We sat in comfortable silence for a moment, watching the crowd. Cash’s eyes kept drifting to where Kytten stood with their other son, laughing about something, completely unselfconscious in her happiness.
Cash shifted Markus in his arms, then looked at me with that direct gaze bikers seemed to have mastered. “You remember what you told me? A year ago, when I was losing my mind over being attracted to Rose so soon after Rachel’s death?”
I blinked, caught off guard. “I... what?”
“You told me I didn’t need to go looking for someone. That I just needed to be open when someone found me.” His mouth curved slightly. “Said I needed to stop running from it.”
Heat crept up my neck. “I remember.”
“Well.” He glanced down at Markus, then back at me. “Worked out pretty damn well, wouldn’t you say? Got Rose. Got these two boys. Got a whole life I didn’t think I’d have.”
“Cash—”
“You also told me,” he continued, not letting me deflect, “that Terry made you promise to give relationships an honest try. That you’d give each one a real chance because that was what he wanted for you.”
My throat tightened. “That’s different.”
“How?” His voice was gentle but firm. “How’s it different, Trudy? You gave me permission to move on. Told me that how much you love someone isn’t measured by how long you grieve them; it’s measured by how you choose to live after.”
I looked away, watching the dancers. “I know what I said.”
“Then why aren’t you taking your own advice?” Cash asked quietly. “Popeye’s a good man. Anyone can see he’s crazy about you. And unless I’m reading this wrong, you feel the same way.”
“It’s complicated.”
“It’s always complicated.” He adjusted Markus again, his expression softening. “But you told me Rachel wanted me to have a life. That she’d want me to be happy. You think Terry would want anything different for you?”
My eyes stung. “No.”
“Then stop fighting it.” Cash stood carefully, cradling his son. “Go dance with your man, Trudy. Take the advice you gave me and actually follow it yourself.”
I stared up at him, this biker who’d listened to my wisdom a year ago and was now throwing it back at me with the kind of honesty only someone who’d walked through grief could manage.
“You’re a pain in the ass,” I said, my voice thick.
“Right back at you.” He grinned. “Now go. Before he comes looking for you and I have to watch him get all possessive and territorial.”
I laughed despite myself, wiping at my eyes. “Thank you, Cash.”
“Thank you,” he said. “For telling me it was okay to live again. Now do the same for yourself.”
Before either of us could say more, I felt a hand on my shoulder. Stephen was there with my drink, pressing a kiss to the top of my head like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Found you,” he murmured against my hair. “Come on. They’re playing a good song.”
He didn’t wait for me to protest. He took my hand and pulled me up from the table, my initial resistance melting the moment he wrapped his arm around my waist. I glanced back at Cash one last time and saw him watching us with an expression I recognized... hope. The same hope I’d discovered in myself when Stephen first refused to let me hide.
On the dance floor, with Stephen’s arms wrapped securely around me and his body solid and warm against mine, I finally let go of the last bit of guilt I’d been carrying around like a stone in my pocket. Terry had wanted this for me. He’d made me promise to keep living, to keep opening my heart, to not let his death be the thing that closed me off from the world. And I had tried it, twice.
And failed.
But Cash reminded me that Terry wouldn’t want me to stop trying. I was honoring him, honoring his memory and the love we’d shared by choosing happiness instead of running from it, by allowing myself to feel something real and good instead of burying myself in work and routine.
Stephen pulled back just enough to look at me, his dark eyes searching mine with that intensity that used to make me nervousbut now just made me feel seen. “You okay?” he asked, his voice low enough that only I could hear it over the music.
“Yeah,” I said, and meant it with every fiber of my being. The truth of it settled into my bones, solid and sure. “I’m more than okay.”
He grinned that cocky, confident grin that had annoyed me so much when we first met, and pulled me close again, so close I could feel every hard inch of him pressed against me. “Good,” he murmured against my ear, his breath warm. “Because I’ve been thinking about getting you alone all night.”
