EPILOGUE
One month later…
Nick stood on the back deck, mug of coffee warming his hand, another winter storm building on the horizon. The sun sat low across the ocean, the fading light catching the waves as they pounded against the rock, the resulting crash strangely calming.
They’d found the ideal place — a restored craftsman cottage on a jagged cliff just north of Raven’s Cliff. It had been love at first site, and they’d moved in three weeks later.
Nick had made a few modifications — reinforced door frames, cameras disguised as exterior lights, and a panic button Sloane pretended she hadn’t insisted on. Not that he’d argued. After all they’d been through, she deserved to feel safe when safe had never been a constant.
He smiled, listening to the wind whistle through the eaves, to the groan of the beams as they settled, sighing as if releasing a breath. It was perfect, except for the low, mournful moan of the glass balcony the previous owners had installed off the master bedroom — the one that flexed with every shift in the wind, the panels singing out a tinny complaint.
He’d promised Sloane he’d replace it — trade the tempered glass for solid cedar — and she’d yet to step foot on the damn thing since moving in.
He smiled at the thought. She’d accepted Bodie’s offer — joined Raven’s Security — and her first official act had been a risk assessment of their balcony. It hadn’t been a surprise when she’d declared it a tactical liability.
He’d ordered the wood an hour later.
A couple hawks soared overhead, riding the thermal updrafts as he watched the simple ebb and flow of the water. Behind him, the sliding door opened, hushed footfalls padding across the weathered wood. Sloane circled around in front, drinking in the scenery as if it held answers she wasn’t sure she was ready to hear, before leaning against his chest, her head tucked against his shoulder. He placed one hand on her waist, breathing in the sweet, floral scent clinging to her skin. He’d never imagined he’d find forever, and he knew, he’d never go back to living without her.
Without this.
Sloane hummed as the wind lifted her hair, dancing it across his shoulder. “Your supplier just called. Said the cedar railings are backordered. That we might have to live with the ‘death trap’ for another week.”
Nick cringed. “I’ll sleep on the sofa if it makes you feel better.”
“Screw that. You’ll sleep in our bed. I’ll just wear a parachute.”
“I’m glad you’re not being overly dramatic about it.”
She elbowed him, hard, then spun, tiptoed up and claimed his mouth in a kiss that should have gotten them arrested. He lifted her into his arms, stumbled his way back inside, pinning her against the nearest wall. She fisted his shirt, tore it over hishead, her fingers like brands against his skin as she smoothed them along his ribs, skimming across his scattering of scars.
Nick nuzzled her neck, grabbing the hem of her shirt when a throat cleared behind them. He chuckled, dropped one more kiss on her mouth, then turned. He accepted the shirt Dalton tossed him, nodding at the case of beer. “I hope one of those is for me.”
Dalton grabbed one out of the case, handed it to him. “Based on what I walked in on, you’ll need the entire case to cool off.”
Sloane speared her fingers through her hair, looking as if she wanted to throat punch the man before eyeing Nick. “A week, Colter. That’s what you said.”
Dalton chuckled as Sloane headed for the door, welcoming the others inside. “Is it just me, or are we both somehow in trouble?”
Nick clapped Dalton on the back. “You’ll get used to it.”
Nick greeted his buddies as they all ambled in amidst shouts and catcalls. Something about Nick always finding an excuse to get his shirt off. Avery arrived a few minutes later, looking decidedly casual compared to her usual attire.
Sloane shouldered up to him, smiling. “Looks like you’re not the only one Raven’s Cliff looks good on.”
Nick wrapped his arm around her. “I didn’t realize she even owned flannel.”
Another elbow. Harder than the last. “Maybe she just wants to show off another side of her.”
“To who?” He stared down at Sloane. “Dalton?”
“Please tell me you’re not just now noticing it?”
“I…” He laughed. “Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but at the end of the day, I’m just a guy.”
“You’re forgiven.” She rested her head against his shoulder. “I thought Tierney was coming?”
“I invited her — had Buck ask her twice — but…” Nick sighed. “She’s still working on a few things.”
