Page 131 of Stormswept Colorado

What if Teller and I could truly unite our lives? Neither of us having to give anything up?

I imagined how perfect it could be. Somehow traveling back and forth between here and California or wherever I was on tour. I still, even now, didn’t see exactly how it could work given our jobs. But I had to hope. Teller had said he wouldn’t let anything keep us apart.

Maybe we really could have it all.

I was starting to drift off when Teller grunted, picking up his phone from the nightstand. “New text from River. I’d asked him to look into Roy Carpenter, just in case there was a connection to Paul Ruxton.”

“Really? Did he find something?”

“Take a look.” He showed me the text.

River

Sergeant Roy Carpenter passed away six years ago. Lung cancer.

Six years ago. Before I’d even signed with Ruxton Records.

I certainly didn’t miss Sergeant Carpenter, but he was another part of my past that was dead and gone. Yet those red daisies…was that just a coincidence?

And the old photo of me as a teenager. Where had Paul gotten it?

“You okay?” Teller murmured, stroking my hair.

“I will be.”

It didn’t actually matter where Paul had dug up that old photo of me. We’d outed him as Biggest Fan. His sick little game was over, and he couldn’t hurt me.

FORTY-ONE

Teller

I woke slowly.Ayla was wrapped around me, her hair all over the place. Smiling, I rested a hand on her head and blinked at my bedroom ceiling. Same old view I’d had every morning for years since I bought this place. The faint imperfections in the plaster visible in the morning light.

Yet Ayla Maxwell, the love of my life, was now lying in bed with me. How had we gotten here? I mean, I knew in theory, but I never could’ve seen any of this coming.

And don’t think for a second I’d missed the part yesterday where she asked about whether I wanted kids. Said I’d be a great dad.

Every one of the dreams I’d given up could still come true. All because of her. Hell, I was ready to build a white picket fence around this house, even though it wouldn’t quite match the woodsy mountain vibe.

But I loved this woman with my entire being. I had to protect her from the Paul Ruxtons of the world.

“Hi,” she said sleepily and wiggled against me. My morning wood twitched and thickened.

“Hey.”

“I missedyou.”

A grin broke wide across my face. “You missed me while you were sleeping?”

“Mmhmm.” She moved so she was lying on top of me. She’d worn one of my T-shirts last night and nothing else. I had a pair of flannel pajama pants on, which did nothing to hide my erection. She wiggled again, grinding herself on me, and I groaned.

I rolled her over and thrust against her hip a few times.

“It’s Monday,” she said. “Don’t you have work today?”

Another groan from me, this one far less happy. “Probably.” I checked the clock on my nightstand. Thankfully it was only six thirty. We’d woken up early. “I have a little time.”

“Shower?”

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