Wren looked away first, staring out at the snow-covered yard. “I think that I should leave.”
Buck’s jaw tightened instantly. “Not happening.”
“It might be the smart thing to do,” she insisted.
“It’s not,” Buck countered.
Wren crossed her arms tightly beneath the flannel. “Buck?—”
“No.” He stepped closer. “You leave this compound right now; they’ll snatch you up before sunrise.”
Fear flickered briefly across her face before stubbornness buried it again. “You can’t keep me here forever.”
The word forever hit him harder than it should have. Buck rubbed a hand over his jaw roughly. “You think I want this?”
Her eyes lifted slowly. “I think you don’t know what you want.”
That landed too close to the truth. Buck looked away toward the frozen tree line. “That’s the problem.” The back door creaked open again, and Ghost returned holding three beers.
“One for me,” he announced, handing one to Buck. “And one because you both look painfully sober.”
Wren accepted the beer carefully. “Are you always like this?”
Ghost smirked. “Charming?” he asked. “Yeah.”
“Annoying,” Buck corrected.
“Also, yeah,” Ghost agreed. Wren laughed softly. The sound hit both men instantly. Buck felt it beside him, too—the way Ghost stilled slightly at the sound like it mattered to him just as much. And suddenly Buck understood something important—this wasn’t just lust, not for either of them.
Ghost leaned against the porch railing again, watching the snow fall while silence settled comfortably this time. Then, without looking at Buck, he said quietly, “I meant what I said earlier.”
Wren glanced between them in confusion. Buck’s pulse kicked harder. “Ghost,” he warned.
“No.” Ghost finally looked at him directly. “We’re done pretending tonight.” Wren’s cheeks turned pink immediately, and Buck cursed internally.
Ghost’s pale eyes softened slightly when they shifted toward her. “I got feelings for you, sweetheart.” The honesty of it hit Buck like a punch. Wren went completely still. Ghost shrugged one shoulder like it didn’t terrify him too. “Wasn’t exactly planned.”
Buck watched her carefully, and Ghost exhaled slowly and looked toward Buck again. “And I have feelings for him.” Wren’s eyes widened, but Buck closed his eyes briefly. Well, it was out in the open now.
Ghost laughed quietly under his breath. “Yeah. That reaction seems fair.”
Wren looked utterly stunned. “You two?—”
Buck forced himself to answer. “We never did anything.”
“But you wanted to,” she assessed. It wasn’t a question.
Buck met her gaze steadily. “Yeah.” The cold air suddenly felt too tight to breathe. Wren stared between them while snow drifted softly around the porch.
Ghost finally broke the silence. “Problem is, none of this matters if the Vultures get their hands on you first.” That changed the mood instantly. Buck’s expression hardened again, and Ghost’s did too. Reality crashed back hard because there were too many threats that had been made against her now.
Wren swallowed visibly. “You really think they’ll come here?”
Buck answered immediately. “Yes.”
“And if they do?” she whispered.
Buck stepped closer until she had to tilt her head back to look him in the eyes. “Then they die.” The brutal certainty in his voice sent a visible shiver through her. Ghost moved beside them, brushing Buck’s lightly in silent solidarity.
