It’s an anchor.
Solid.
Warm.
Steady.
I trust him.
Not because he’s loud.Or big.Or rich.And not because he’s powerful.
But because when he looks at me, I feel restored.
Whatever Mike tried to break in me?That’s all been put back together.And it’s tougher.Stronger.No longer available to him.
Because it’s not Mike’s anymore.It’s mine.And I have J.T.there to make sure it stays mine.
So, when J.T.asks softly if I’m okay, I nod—but the emotions are still flying through me.
Anger at Mike.
Revulsion at the thought of that teenage girl.
Protective panic over Evan.
And beneath it all, something molten and electric every time I look at the man standing beside me.
Before I can overthink it, I reach up, grab the back of J.T.’s head, and pull him down.
Our mouths collide.
The whistle that follows barely registers.
The mill hands can watch all they want.
Let them see.
Let them know.
This is my home.
This is my life.
Oh my God—I love him.
I am in love with J.T.Lawerence and I just figured that out.
“Take me home,” I whisper against his lips.
His green eyes darken, searching mine.
For hesitation.
For doubt.
He finds neither.
He nods once.
