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Prologue

EVIE & MADDOX’S WEDDING

HENRY

Louisiana Rose Wright has always been stunning, though she is as sharp and elusive as the thorns on the roses she carries. The moment I saw her tonight, she stole my breath away. Her lips, the same shade of red as the blooms she clutched, and the silk of her dress clung to her soft curves like a tender embrace.

God, she took my breath away.

Each glance at her felt like a rusty knife to the gut, because I worship that little viper, and she wants no part of me. That’s on me. I was just a foolish kid, convinced I knew what was best for her, but all I did was push her further into the distance.

I watch her all afternoon, watched as she cried during the ceremony. Hell, we all had a moment of weakness. No one deserves happiness more than my brother, Maddox, and Evie. Especially not after the fucking year they’ve had.

Hell, the lives they had lived even before that were devastating enough to bring even the strongest of men to their knees. Just as Vic’s hard ass. Nobody can make that man into a fucking puddle quicker than Evie, rightfully so.

From Evie and Allison’s kidnapping, to Evie almost being killed by her ex-husband.

Shitshow is an understatement.

We were almost too late to save her. Maddox had come dangerously close to losing her, all because the sheriff of this town—me, his own brother—couldn’t do his job right. Couldn’t put the pieces together soon enough. The sight of Maddox walking toward me, cradling her bloodied, naked body in his arms, will forever haunt me.

After everything my brother had already lost, I knew losing Evie would destroy him. She had brought him back to life after losing Livvy, a loss that shattered the very core of our once unbreakable family. We all felt that emptiness, a hollow echo that lingered in the silence. One that didn’t feel so hollow anymore thanks to Evie and her rambunctious sons, Bash and Charlie.

I toss back the last of my whiskey and shove my way through the crowd, dead set on having Lou in my arms at least once tonight. But just as I reach her, she scoops up a sleeping Bash, like that's going to stop me. I can't help but grin—damn woman thinks she's slick. Too bad for her, I know how to play this game.

Without missing a beat, I lift Bash right out of her arms, settling him against my shoulder like a sleeping baby. Then I turn to Lou, raising my eyebrows in a silent challenge.

"How about, just for tonight, you pull that stick out of your ass and dance with me," I say, aiming for my smoothest voice. I offer her my hand and wait, heart hammering, as her eyes flick down to it. Slowly—painfully slowly—she drags her gaze up my arm, and when those honey-colored eyes finally meet mine, it knocks the breath clean out of my chest.

Because I love every part of Louisiana Rose—especially the parts that hate me.

And I stand here, daring her, praying she'll take my damn hand.

"One song. And don’t even think about getting handsy, Sheriff," she growls, slipping her hand into mine—shocking me and everyone around us.

For a split second, the whole world falls away. It’s just her—Lou—and the feel of her warm hand in mine, grounding me, undoing me.

She lets out an impatient sigh, yanking me out of my stupor as she stands.

“Five bucks says she knees him in the balls before the song finishes,” Mercy murmurs to Lucien.

Without missing a beat—or waking the sleeping child on my shoulder—I stomp on my baby brother’s foot as I pass, grinning when he yelps. Meddlesome little shit.

But not even Merc’s slick-ass mouth can get under my skin tonight. Not when, for once, the little hellion has folded.

And damn, if I don’t feel like the luckiest son of a bitch alive.

Lou stands before me frigid and unmoving and it isn’t until I slide my hand around her trim waist do her eyes soften; I feel her body succumb to the magnetic forces that always seem to drag us towards one another.

I pull her as close as I can, the weight of a sleeping child between us, and let my hand drift from her trim waist to gently cup the side of her face. She goes stiff, like she’s waiting for me to see all the ways she thinks she’s broken.

But I don’t back off.

I don't scare that easily.

To me, she’s not broken—she’s battle-scarred, stubborn as hell, and stronger than anyone I've ever met. Her amber eyes lock on mine, and the whole damn world drops away.

No noise. No past.