Page 56 of Her Remarkable Protector

She’s sorry? For what? The house? The mess? None of it matters. She doesn’t understand—she and Laramie are all that matters.

“You haven’t ruined anything,” I say. With Laramie snug in one arm, I reach out and pull Honor closer with the other. She leans into me, her weight pressing against my side as if she’s afraid to let go. “Everything that matters is right here.”

Her eyes fill with tears, but she nods, her head resting against my shoulder.

The fire crew leads us outside, and the fresh air hits like a jolt to the system. Huxley is there, standing by the ambulance. He looks utterly spent, his shoulders sagging under the weight of everything we’ve just been through. His face is streaked with soot, his clothes a mess, but that trademark grin of his still manages to shine through.

“You good?” he asks, his voice rough, like the smoke is still clawing at his throat.

I nod, glancing at Honor and Laramie. “Yeah. You?”

He chuckles dryly, running a hand through his ash-covered hair. “Been better. But I’ll live.”

“Huxley. We finally meet,” Honor rasps.

“Honor. Nice to meet you. Are you okay?” Hux asks.

Honor breaks from my embrace to throw her arms around him, giving him a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. “Thank you!”

He gets a peck on the cheek? How about me?

“Hey, I didn’t do anything,” Hux says to Honor, holding his hands up as if in surrender. He tilts his head toward me with a wink. “It was all him. Be gentle with him, yeah?”

Before I can respond, someone shouts from behind us. “Come on, we’ve gotta go!”

A pair of paramedics steps forward, guiding us toward the ambulance with brisk efficiency. Inside, one of them gestures toward a cot designed for an infant. “Lay the baby here,” they instruct.

I carefully place Laramie down, my hands lingering on her for just a moment longer than necessary. The small weight of her absence making my chest ache. The team immediately gets to work, checking her vitals. She fusses for a second, her tiny hands waving in protest, but then her breathing steadies.

“Is she okay there?” Honor’s voice is brittle with worry. She’s still standing at the edge of the ambulance, her hands gripping the metal frame.

“Yeah,” I reassure as I glance back at her. “She’s fine, Honor. We’re gonna be fine.”

Her eyes flick from me to Laramie and back again, and then, without warning, she steps forward, grabs me by the jacket, and pulls me to her. Her lips crash against mine, fierce and desperate, like she’s pouring every ounce of fear, relief, and gratitude into that single moment.

I kiss her back, my hands finding her waist, holding on. For a second, the chaos around us fades into nothing. It’s just her. And me. And the life we’ve fought to save.

The paramedics are already back at work, securing Laramie for the ride to the hospital. I steady Honor as she climbs into the ambulance, her movements still shaky, and settle in beside her just as the doors swing shut.

The close quarters of the cabin don’t stop me from studying her. The sensation of her kiss still lingers, but there’s more to Honor Deveraux. Being near her feels like stepping into a moment from the past—seeing a face and wondering,Have I seen it before? It’s a trivial thought, perhaps. A fleeting reminder of an old friend or an actor whose name hovers just out of reach. But is that really all this is?

Her hand lands softly on mine.

“Well,” I murmur, holding her close as she leans into me, “you’ve ruined something, actually.”

Her head tilts up slightly, her brows knitting in confusion. “What?”

“You’ve ruined Damon’s plan,” I say, my tone growing firmer. “His plan to reclaim you and Laramie. You destroyed it.”

The words hang in the air, and then the full weight of it all hits me. My throat burns with something far more powerful than smoke. Relief. Gratitude. Love.

“My God, Honor,” I breathe, my voice breaking as I press my lips to the crown of her head. Tears threaten to spill, and I don’t care. I hold her tighter, my arms refusing to let go. I need to feel her, to know she’s here, alive, safe.

We sit in silence for a while, the vibration of the ambulance filling the space as it bumps along the road. Honor leans into me, her head resting against my shoulder. I can feel the tension still clinging to her, though it’s easing now, replaced by exhaustion.

Then she breaks the quiet. “What did he say? Damon. When you saw him.”

I sigh, my jaw tightening at the memory. “Not much. He was unloading his ego like it’s the only thing keeping him alive.” I pause, then admit, “Damon tricked me. He wanted me out of the house so you’d be left alone.”

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