Page 115 of Lost in the Moonlight

“But I wasn’t. Because you hired Axel and his team to take care of me. Becauseyoutook care of me.”

“I love you.” It just poured out of me before I could stop it. She deserved to hear it when there wasn’t an audience, when weweren’t holding on to each other for dear life with men milling around, comm units screeching, and a sense of foreboding in the air. She needed to hear it when romance was the only thing that existed—candles and champagne and dancing that led to a long night tucked together.

Just as she went to speak, to say those three words back, a woman stormed into the café, wearing a US Marshal’s windbreaker and her hand resting on the butt of the gun at her hip.

“Thank God you weren’t hit,” she said. “This is exactly why we need to relocate you. The situation is out of control.”

The rumble of disagreement was almost out of me before I caught it.

I wanted Willow safe. I wanted her to live more than I wanted to keep her with me.

When Willow didn’t respond, the Marshal turned to me, assessing me in a way that made me feel like a teen caught sneaking in a window, before she extended a hand, saying, “Deputy Marshal James. I’m the Earharts’ handler.”

I shook the hand she’d offered but didn’t offer up my name. I didn’t need to.

The Marshal’s phone rang, and she picked it up with a grunted, “James,” and listened for so long I thought I might lose my patience. Finally, she grunted out some acknowledgement and then hung up. “The suspect crashed and almost went into the Potomac.”

It took several long seconds for the words to finally register, and when they did, the relief that coursed through me caused my ears to ring so loud I almost didn’t catch her next words. “He’s unconscious and being taken to the hospital. Axel says the vehicle is full of clothes and wrappers, as if the man has beenliving out of the car. It’s being towed to the police yard. It might take a while to go through it all, but it looks like we’ve caught him.”

Was it over? God, please let it be over.

My arms flexed around Willow as hope shot through me, heady and unrestrained. Maybe, just maybe, I’d actually be able to keep her.

When I looked down into her face, her eyes were glossy, and she was biting her lip in an attempt to hold back tears.

A shimmer in the hallway brought Sienna. I wanted to snarl at her to go away, to step back from this moment and let me just have it, but she was shaking her head violently and saying something that, for the first time ever, I couldn’t hear. I didn’t know if it was because of all the people in the café’s kitchen, or because of Willow tucked up next to me, or because of the buzzing in my ears. When I clearly didn’t understand her, she threw her hands up and paced, frustration eking from her.

“What is it?” Willow asked, and I dragged my eyes from Sienna’s to a pair of concerned, gray ones.

“Nothing.”

“Lincoln—”

“Really. Just my past tugging at old scars. We both had our worst moments slapped in our faces today. But all I am feeling now is grateful. Grateful and relieved.”

She stared at me for a moment, as if deciding how much to push me. How much to let her own past spill into what was happening now. How much to let those old wounds bleed into our present…our future. “Take me home, Lincoln.”

I swallowed hard, her words almost undoing me. I wanted my home to be a safe haven for her, and I could only hope, with one car crash, it would be. That this was over.

We’d survived again. She’d survived. But what would I have done if that bullet had hit her? I couldn’t even think about it. I closed my eyes and kissed her softly, thoroughly. I let the warmth of her sink into me. The delightful scent of her. The peace I found when I was next to her.

She was safe. We’d made it through this storm.

The man responsible was caught.

We were going to be okay.

We were alive and here and in love.

That was what I had to focus on. It was what truly mattered.

When I opened my eyes, Sienna was there again. Glaring at me. Talking. Gesticulating wildly.

And for the first time ever, I truly didn’t want to hear her. I didn’t want to be haunted by the failings of my past. I wanted to finally hand over my guilt about not being the one who’d died that day when the truck hit us. If I had been, I wouldn’t have been here to push Willow into living a full life. I wouldn’t have been here to show her the joy that came from this, from being joined in every part of our body and soul, and she deserved that. She deserved the happiness of this moment. To focus on our present where life and love filled us.

So, I rotated our bodies, putting Sienna behind me, and headed for the door.

Willow was the only thing that mattered.

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