Page 108 of Relentless

Dallas cleared his plate and brought it to the sink. Washing and drying the dish, he reached up and stacked it high in the cabinet.

“He washes dishes, too?” Maeve observed with a whimsical glance. “I think I picked a good one.”

Dallas wrapped his arms around her once again, pulling her close. “Even if he doesn’t drink coffee?”

“Even if he doesn’t know what he’s missing,” Maeve grinned.

He took her by the hand and led her up the stairs. They went down the hall together to the bedroom they now shared.

Our bedroom.

Our bed.

She closed the door behind her and twisted the lock. Sitting on the plush down comforter, she ran her fingers over the soft sheets.

After the long day of pouring into others, Maeve felt a wave of exhaustion threatening to overwhelm her.

Holding the family together came at a price. She had to be strong, and it wasn’t often that she could be entirely transparent — but Dallas was herperson.

“I’m tired, Dal,” she admitted.

“I know, darlin’,” he said. He sat beside her, kneading a thumb into her tight neck and shoulders.

She ran her fingers down his jaw and through his thick brown beard, soaking up the love and concern that gazed back at her from his hazel eyes. There was more peace with him than she had ever found in her quiet moments alone.

She closed her eyes, feeling his soft lips capture hers and trace down her neck once again.

Maeve allowed it all to drift from her mind.

Melting into his embrace, she allowed Dallas to distract her from every concern.

Tomorrow’s worries could wait.

Chapter 30

Clarity

Harper clutched her pillow to her chest as she stared at the morning light glistening through the window curtains. Oakleigh’s aesthetic design choices flowed through every corner of the ranch house, and it was only a matter of time until shades of white accentuated every room.

By that time, Harper would be gone.

She gulped hard.

Her vulnerable emotional release the day before made her cringe with embarrassment. She had experienced difficult situations before and endured. Harper couldn’t comprehend what had caused her sturdy walls to crumble into dust. Perhaps it was the brutal hangover that left her body feeling fragile, and her emotions running high.

And —

They had been so kind.

She felt tears once again sting her eyes.

“Don’t you dare,” she threatened, choking down the lump of emotion lodging in her throat.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sharp, gritty sound of a metal shovel scraping across the ice. Desperate for any distraction from the oppressive silence of her bedroom, she went to the closet and grabbed her snow pants off the hanger.

Tying her hair into a low bun, she pulled the gray beanie cap over her ears and zipped up her jacket.

In the hallway, next to her door, was a piping hot travel mug. Picking it up, she noticed a bright yellow sticky note with her name scrawled in Maeve’s handwriting. She took a long sip, tasting the bitterness of the earthy, black coffee.

---