“You always did have an oversized ego,” she said, but there was less heat in her voice now.More resignation.More sadness.
“I know.”He reached up and cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing across her cheekbones.“And my pride cost us three years.Three years I can’t get back.Three years of waking up alone and wishing things had been different.”
Her eyes filled with tears.“Zeke?—”
“I meant what I said, Mia.I’m done.One more month and this operation is over.And then I’m taking that job in Riverton.Normal hours.Weekends off.A life where I don’t have to lie about who I am or what I do.”He rested his forehead against hers.“A life with you.If you’ll have me.”
“You hurt me,” she whispered, a single tear sliding down her cheek.“When I woke up in that hospital bed and all you could talk about was the job?—”
“I was terrified,” he interrupted, his voice raw.“For six weeks I watched you lying there, not knowing if you’d ever wake up.Not knowing if the last words between us would be angry ones shouted in the heat of an argument.”His hands moved to her shoulders, holding her gently.“I know I handled it wrong.I should’ve told you how scared I was.How much I needed you.Instead I deflected by talking about work because that was easier than admitting I’d almost lost the most important thing in my life.”
She looked up at him, searching his face for any sign of deception.But all she saw was honesty—raw and unguarded in a way Zeke rarely allowed himself to be.
“One month,” she said finally.“You’ve got one month to prove you mean it.That you’re really done.That I’m not just convenient while you’re working this case.”
“You were never convenient, Mia.You were always everything.”He pulled her into his arms, and she let herself melt against him, breathing in the familiar scent of him—soap and leather and something uniquely Zeke.
They stood there for a long moment, just holding each other.And then she pulled back and looked up at him, her decision made.
“Stay,” she said softly.“Not on the couch.With me.”
His eyes darkened.“Mia, if I stay?—”
“I know what I’m asking.”She took his hand and led him toward the bedroom.“Three years is a long time.And I’m tired of being angry.Tired of being alone.I don’t know if we can make this work.But I know I want to try.”
He followed her, his heart pounding, hardly daring to believe this was real.That she was giving him another chance.That maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to each other.
When they reached the bedroom, he pulled her close once more, kissing her with a tenderness that spoke of promises and second chances.And as they sank down onto the bed together, giving in to the pull that had always existed between them, Mia sent up a silent prayer that this time would be different.
That this time, love would be enough.
* * *
The shrill scream of the alarm coming from her phone jerked her out of a deep sleep.Three loud raps at the door followed soon after.
“What the—” Zeke asked, rolling out of bed in a fluid motion and grabbing his duty weapon.
“That’s the alert for my shop alarm system,” she said, turning off the phone.
Mia grabbed the gun she had in her nightstand and moved in a crouched motion to the chair in the corner where a gray pair of sweats were folded.She dressed quickly, but Zeke had already pulled on his jeans and was heading to the front door.
“Wait,” she hissed.“It’s my house.”
“It’s Blaze,” Zeke said.“I looked through the blinds in the bedroom.”He moved to the side and let her answer the door.
“My shop?”she said to Blaze, by way of greeting.
Blaze nodded.“There’s been an attempted break-in.I don’t know how bad or if they breached the inside.I was just on my way into the office this morning when the alarm company called through.The deputy on duty called me and I figured it was faster to stop here first.”
She could smell the soap from Blaze’s morning shower and his black hair was still damp at the tips.He was tall—taller than most men—broad through the shoulders and chest, and even in the early morning darkness she could see the tattoos visible beneath his rolled-up uniform sleeves.He was dressed for work—a chambray button-down shirt with the Laurel Valley Sheriff’s Office logo embroidered over the pocket and a pair of jeans and boots.His piercing blue eyes assessed her with the sharp intelligence of a good cop.He wore a shoulder holster and his badge was pinned on the left side of his shirt.
Zeke stepped into view behind her.
“McBride,” Blaze said with a nod of acknowledgment.No surprise, no questions.Just the recognition of one cop to another.
Mia’s eyes narrowed.Of course Blaze would know Zeke was here.As sheriff, he’d have been briefed on any DEA operation in his jurisdiction.Which meant everyone had known what was going on except her.
“We’ll be right behind you,” Mia said tightly.
