Page 43 of Midnight Rebel

I smile, and he gives me that barely there smirk that carries all the feelings in his heart.

“Making sure it’s real,” I admit, setting the magazine aside. “Sometimes it feels like I dreamed the whole thing.”

The past months flash through my mind—the investigation, the revelations, the nights spent piecing together evidence while the MC kept watch.

The way the town rallied once the truth came out, how quickly everything changed.

He chuckles, and the sound is like a balm to every anxious nerve in my body.

As his hand flips the magazine closed, gently nudging it aside, his expression shifts into something more serious.

“It’s real, Firefly. You did it. The article’s good. Hell, it’s more than good—it’s right,” he says, his gaze earnest. “This town needed to know the truth.”

“Papers have been calling,” I say, wrapping my hands around my cooling coffee cup. “Big ones. They want me to cover more stories like this—corruption, hidden scandals, that sort of thing.” I pause, watching his face carefully. “They’re offering real money, Colt. Chances to make a real difference.”

His expression doesn’t change, but I feel his thumb stop its gentle movement across my knuckles. “That what you want?”

“I don’t know,” I admit. “Part of me wants to chase the next big story, but...” I meet his eyes. “The drive back and forth to Midnight Falls these past months, seeing how the MC’s reputation has completely transformed since the article... People stop me every time I’m in town, telling me how the Riders helpedtheir grandmother or protected their business. There are more stories here, Colt. Important ones.”

When I speak again, my voice is quieter. “What happens now? With us, I mean. With The Manor, the Riders, everything?”

The morning bustle of the café fades away as I wait for his answer. A barista calls out an order, and the espresso machine hisses, but it all feels distant, muted beneath the weight of this moment.

He doesn’t respond right away, watching me carefully. His fingers drum lightly on the table, a rare tell of nervousness from a man who usually keeps his emotions locked down tight.

When he finally speaks, his voice is low and serious. “When I came back to Midnight Falls, it was always with one foot ready to leave again. The Riders, the MC—they were my reason for staying. But things shifted. You?—“

He pauses, his jaw tightening—only for a second, before he lets out a long breath, the tension melting away. “You changed that. Changed everything.”

My chest tightens as his fingers squeeze mine. “I’ve lived a lot of my life not knowing where I belong. But now...” he leans forward, his piercing blue eyes locking onto mine, “wherever you are, that’s where I’ll be.”

His voice roughens, as if he’s not sure I believe him. “I’ve got my place with the MC, and The Manor’s not going anywhere. But what I want—what I need—is you. The rest of it—hell, Autumn, any of it—doesn’t matter if you’re with me.”

The enormity of it hits me then. This isn’t just about Midnight Falls or The Manor.

This is about him letting me in—letting us be something bigger than we ever imagined. “But what if I?—“

“You’re thinking about coming back here more often, aren’t you?” he interrupts, his eyes locked on mine with that intensity that still makes my breath catch.

Morning sunlight catches his silver rings, steam from our untouched coffees dancing between us. His hands, so often my salvation, now cradle mine with impossible gentleness.

I nod slowly, the truth settling deep in my chest like a warm weight. “I am. Not... not moving here, not yet. But maybe someday.”

“Someday,” he agrees, and something in his voice makes my heart flutter. “For now, we make it work. Weekend runs with the MC, you chase your stories, and we help Margaret with The Manor’s restoration when we can.”

A small smile tugs at my lips as I look back at him. “You’d be okay with that? The back and forth?”

His answering grin is rough around the edges, but laced with pure relief. He leans across the table, his thumb tracing my jawline as his voice drops to a murmur.

“Firefly, as long as we’re together, I don’t care if we’re here, there, or on the damn moon.”

“Margaret’s been surprising everyone,” I say, warming to the topic, grateful for how naturally her name fits into our plans now. “When everything about Frank came out, I was so worried about her, but...”

“She’s tougher than any of us gave her credit for,” Colt agrees, pride evident in his voice.

Through the window behind him, I can see The Manor’s distinctive roofline in the distance, no longer looking ominous but welcoming.

“Took about a week to process it all, then she was back in her office, making calls, finding temporary staff. Hell, she’s already got The Manor running smoother than it did under Frank’s management.”

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