Page 30 of Vargan

"Maybe someday," I say, but we both know the weight of responsibilities that keep me here—Willie, the diner, my father's legacy. Dreams deferred, perhaps forever.

It's easy talking to him—easier than it should be with someone I've known for so little time, someone who will be gone tomorrow. The thought brings a pang of sadness, but I push it aside. I made my choice. One night with Vargan is worth the pain that will come after.

As dusk settles outside the window, a quiet peace falls over us. Vargan's breathing deepens, his hand stills in my hair, and I realize he's fallen asleep. I watch him, memorizing the planes of his face, the curve of his tusks, the way his eyelashes fan against his cheeks.

Have I made a mistake? I wonder, the doubt creeping in despite my resolve. Will this make it harder when he leaves?

But then he stirs, amber eyes opening to find mine, and the warmth in them chases away all doubt. He pulls me closer, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead.

"No regrets?" he asks, voice husky with sleep.

I shake my head, settling more comfortably against him. "No regrets."

And I mean it. Whatever tomorrow brings, whatever pain awaits when he rides away, this moment—being held in hisarms, feeling his heartbeat beneath my cheek—makes it all worthwhile.

Better to have him for a day than never at all.

Chapter Nine

Vargan

Iwake to warmth—Savvy's body curled against mine, her head on my chest, breath tickling my skin. For a moment, I let myself believe this is normal. That I could have this every morning.

Dangerous thoughts.

My phone buzzes from my jacket. Careful not to wake her, I reach across the bed for it, checking the caller ID. Hammer.

"Hold on," I whisper into the phone, easing away from Savvy. She stirs, mumbling something in her sleep, but doesn't wake as I pull on my jeans and slip out of the bedroom.

In the hallway, I answer properly. "What's the word?"

"What's your location?" Hammer asks, getting straight to business.

"Still in Shadow Ridge."

"Why's your ass not on the road yet?" His voice sharpens with irritation. "You told me yesterday the bike was fixed."

I wince, grateful he can't see me. "Had some loose ends to tie up."

"That must be one special piece of ass to keep you sitting in a danger zone." Hammer sighs heavily. "Listen, the original plan was for you to ride all the way to Nogales, but since you're still there, I might be able to arrange a pickup closer to your position. We've got a team assembling near the border."

Hope and dread war in my chest. "Timeline?"

"Twenty-four hours, maybe less. Be ready to ride at a moment's notice." He pauses. "You still have cash for fuel and motels? You still have three hard days of riding ahead of you."

"Yeah," I answer, though my funds are running lower than I'd like.

"Police scanner chatter picked up an APB with your description in counties south of there. They're closing in, brother. Stay off the main interstates and stay low."

"I will."

"And Vargan?" Hammer's voice softens slightly. "Whatever's keeping you there, you leave it behind. Once we give the signal, you'll have maybe an hour window before the route closes."

I glance back at the bedroom door, thinking of the woman sleeping behind it. "Yeah." My jaw tightens. "I know the drill."

I end the call, leaning against the wall. Twenty-four hours. After that, I'll be running for the border, leaving behind whatever... this is.

Last night wasn't supposed to happen. Not the way it did—not with such intensity, such honesty. It was meant to be one night of pleasure before we parted ways. Instead, it's become something I can't name, something that's wormed its way under my skin and lodged there.

---