Page 36 of Mountain Protector

“Thank you,” she says quietly, staring out the window at the passing buildings. “For saving me. And Spike.”

“Don’t thank me for that,” I say, squeezing her hand gently. “Ever.”

She turns to look at me, her head tilted slightly. “Why not?”

“Because it’s not something you should have to thank me for.” I keep my eyes on the road, but I can feel her gaze on my profile. “Keeping you safe isn’t a favor, Ruby. It’s a necessity. Like breathing.”

Silence fills the car for a moment, broken only by the soft hum of the engine and an occasional rustle from Spike’s terrarium.

“Why?” she finally asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

I glance at her, taking in the vulnerability in her eyes, the question written across her face. She knows the answer. She just needs to hear me say it.

“Because you’re mine,” I say simply, the words feeling right on my tongue. “Because the thought of anything happening to you makes me want to tear the world apart with my bare hands. Because from the moment I saw you, I knew you were it for me.”

Her breath catches, her fingers tightening around mine. “Clay...”

“I know it’s fast,” I continue, turning onto the road that leads to my cabin outside of town. “I know it doesn’t make sense. I know you like being independent. But this—us—it’s real, Ruby. And I’m not walking away when this is over.”

She’s quiet for so long that I wonder if I’ve pushed too hard, too fast. Then her thumb strokes across my knuckles, a gentle caress that sends electricity up my arm.

“I don’t want you to walk away,” she admits softly. “And that scares me.”

Relief floods through me, so intense it’s almost painful. “Why does it scare you?”

“Because I’ve never needed anyone before.” She stares down at our joined hands. “I’ve spent my whole life proving I don’t need anyone. And then you come along, and suddenly the thought of you not being there makes it hard to breathe.”

I lift our joined hands to my lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “Needing someone doesn’t make you weak, Ruby. It makes you human.”

“Is that what this is?” she asks, her voice small. “Need?”

I pull the truck onto the gravel driveway that leads to my cabin, cutting the engine. The silence that falls is heavy with expectation. I turn to face her fully, taking both her hands in mine.

“This is more than need,” I tell her, my voice rough with emotion I rarely allow myself to show. “This is want. This is choice. This is me looking at you and seeing everything I never knew I was missing. This is love.”

Her eyes shine with unshed tears. “I love you too, Clay. And I don’t know what to do with that”

“You don’t have to do anything with it,” I tell her, reaching up to cup her face in my hands. “Just let me love you back. Let me keep you safe. Let me be yours the way you’re mine.”

A tear spills over, tracking down her cheek. I catch it with my thumb, wiping it away gently. “I can do that,” she says, a small smile breaking through the tears.

I lean forward, pressing my forehead against hers. “Good. Because I’m not giving you up, Ruby Wilson. Not for anything or anyone.”

She closes the distance between us, her lips meeting mine in a kiss that feels like coming home. She tastes like coffee and something uniquely Ruby—something I already know I’ll never get enough of. My hands slide into her hair, holding her to me as I deepen the kiss, claiming her mouth the way I want to claim all of her.

When we break apart, she’s breathless, her lips swollen, her eyes dark with desire. “Take me inside,” she says, her voice husky. “Spike probably needs his heat lamp.”

I smile at her concern for her pet even in this moment. “I’ll get him set up first thing.”

I exit the truck and circle around to her door, opening it and lifting her into my arms in one smooth motion. She laughs, startled, her arms going around my neck.

“I can walk, you know,” she protests, but there’s no real objection in her tone.

“I know,” I say, carrying her up the steps to my cabin. “But I like having you in my arms.”

She rests her head against my shoulder, a soft sigh escaping her. “I like being there.”

“I’ll come back for Spike,” I promise as I push open the door and carry her across the threshold, kicking it closed behind us.

Tomorrow, there will be statements to give, a shop to rebuild, a future to plan. But tonight, in this moment, there’s just Ruby in my arms, safe and whole and mine.

And for the first time in longer than I can remember, I feel like I’ve found something worth protecting for reasons that have nothing to do with duty or obligation.

Just love. Fierce and possessive and undeniably real.

The End

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