Page 104 of Beckett
I melted backward, letting his solid warmth encompass me. My fingers found his forearms where they crossed over my stomach, tracing the corded muscle there. We stood suspended, swaying slightly, while Jet watched from his bed with those patient brown eyes that had seen too much these past days.
“I keep replaying it,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “If I’d been five minutes later. If Jet hadn’t kept moving toward those woods, despite being injured. If Reggie had gotten one clean strike?—”
“But he didn’t.” I turned in the circle of his arms, palms framing his face, feeling the stubble against my skin. “You found me. Jet led you straight to me. We survived.”
“Yes. Survival is always the most important thing.” We stood there in silence for a moment, both of us taking in that we were still alive. That things could’ve easily gone so much worse, but they didn’t.
“First rule of survival?” I finally asked, knowing he’d get the reference since it was from a plaque that hung in the Warrior Security office.
“Don’t die.” His arms tightened around me. “Lark could have died. Jet almost bled out in those woods. You?—”
“But they didn’t. I didn’t.” I rose on my toes, pressing my lips to his, soft but insistent. “Everyone’s healing. Reggie’s facing attempted murder charges. It’s over, Beckett. We won.”
He studied my face with that tactical assessment, cataloging every detail. “And you’ve decided to stay.”
Not a question, but I answered anyway. “Lark offered me a permanent position. PR work, social media management, plus helping train the anxious dogs.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
My pulse skittered. “I know.”
His thumb traced my cheekbone with devastating gentleness. “Is it too soon to talk about finding a place together? My apartment in town is cramped, but we could look for something bigger. Something that belongs to both of us.”
I let my gaze drift around the cabin. These weeks had transformed it from shelter to home. My thrift-store scarf still filtered light through the window. Wildflowers Beckett had picked yesterday bloomed in a mason jar. Jet’s toys created an obstacle course across the floor.
“I love this cabin,” I admitted. “It’s tiny, but it’s…ours. Where we began. But I know it’s basically a studio. Not practical for two people long-term.”
“But…” His strategic mind was already working as he surveyed the space. He moved to the window, analyzing the structure with fresh perspective. “The bones are solid. Good foundation. We could expand.”
“Expand?”
“Add a bedroom. Enlarge the bathroom. The Warrior Security and Resting Warrior crews would help. Between all of us, we could probably frame it out in a weekend.”
“You’d do that? Transform this place?”
He turned back, and the raw want in his eyes made my knees liquid. “I’d do a hell of a lot more if it meant you’d stay. I love you.” The words rumbled through his chest. “Should have said it days ago, but I didn’t want you to think it was some knee-jerk reaction from everything that happened. I love you, Audra Cartland.”
I could swear that the whole world stopped spinning. I pulled back to meet his eyes. “Even with all the chaos I brought?”
“Maybe because of it. You made me want things I’d written off.”
“What things?”
“This. Coming home to someone. Planning futures. Weekend renovations.” His palm cupped my face with reverence. “Living instead of just surviving.”
“I love you too.” The words flowed easier than expected. “I love your steadiness. Your strength. The way you guard everyone around you. The way you protected me when I couldn’t protect myself.”
“You were never weak. You just needed backup.”
“Well, now I have an entire squad.”
“For as long as you want us.”
He kissed me then, deep and consuming, until I forgot about marinating steaks and baking potatoes, forgot everything except his mouth on mine and the hard press of his body.
“The steaks,” I gasped when we broke apart, my lips swollen and tingling.
“Later.” His fingers were already working my shirt buttons with tactical precision. “Much later.”
