Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
“I know.”
“I’m so relieved that it’s over, but I’m still scared. Our lives are so intertwined now. Yours, Chance’s, Dillon’s, mine, the babies… If I lost any of you, I don’t know what I’d do.”
I cup the back of her head and kiss her temple. “You’re not losing me. You’re not losing anyone. I don’t care what the world throws at us next. We’re not going anywhere, and those were exceptional circumstances, Rox. None of us are likely to hear another mobster plan a hit ever again.”
She shudders and hides her face in my chest, her arms wrapping tighter around me. In response, I hold her closer.
“I promise you, it’s over,” I murmur against her hair, doing my best to reassure us both. “Caruso’s done. His people are behind bars. The FBI will be crawling all over this mountain for months.”
I pause for a beat, then pull back so I can look into her eyes. “The life we usually live up here? It’s quiet, Rox. Peaceful. That’s our normal. Not this.”
She lets out a sound, which is half laugh, half sob, and another tear slides onto my shoulder when she lays her head back down.
My chest pulls tight. “Hey. Hey, it’s okay, baby.”
“I’m sorry,” she breathes. “I’m so sorry, Boone. I brought it to your doorstep. I brought danger into your lives. I feel awful. I didn’t want any of this.”
I stroke my thumb across her cheek, wiping her tears away. “Sweetheart, look at me.”
When she does, her eyes are glossy. Wounded, guilty in a way she has no damn reason to be. “You didn’t bring danger to us. This wasn’t you, Rox. It was Caruso. It was Tessa making selfish, stupid choices. Not you. Don’t you carry blame that isn’t yours.”
She sighs like she’s trying to believe it, but guilt still clings to her expression. “Your house is literally in pieces. All because you came to help me when I almost set a cabin on fire.”
“We were talking about renovating before we even met you,” I say lightly. “Now we just have a better excuse.”
Her eyebrows shoot up and her gaze holds mine for a long beat, and for the first time since the attack, her mouth twitches in a real smile. “I thought Dillon was the funny one.”
I shrug. “He likes to think he is, but I have my moments.”
She laughs, and I kiss the corner of her mouth, holding on to her for just another moment before I scoot forward in my chair. “Come on. Let’s get you warm.”
Carefully, I stand, lifting her in my arms. She curls into me instinctively, her hands tucked under her chin, the blankets wrapped around both of us as I carry her back through the sliding door.
Dillon and Chance are still dead to the world, sprawled like two overgrown wolves protecting their den. I lower her gently onto the bed between them.
Chance, even in his sleep, reacts immediately, like his body recognizes hers even when his brain is offline. His arm shoots out, hooking around her waist and pulling her into his chest on instinct.
He doesn’t even open his eyes. Just tucks his face into her hair like he’s been waiting for her. Something warm and fierce unfurls in my chest as I watch him, because even unconscious, even wounded, Chance guards her.
Dillon shifts too, rolling slightly toward her, one hand brushing her calf before settling near her hip protectively and instinctively, but subtle. That’s our dynamic in a nutshell. Chance shields. Dillon steadies. I anchor.
“Boone?” Roxie whispers.
“Yeah, baby?”
“Thank you for finding me.”
My throat tightens, my heart suddenly pounding like it’s gone wild. “Always.”
Her breathing eases, deepening as her body finally lets go of the adrenaline still surging through her. Within moments, she’s asleep, but I stay awake a little longer, listening to their breaths and letting the soft sounds they make reassure me that they’re all still here.
The world tried to take everything from us tonight, but we all made it out alive. My family. Our little miracles.
And by the time I finally drift off, I’m already working on putting all the drama with Caruso behind us. Our real lives together start now, and I’m pretty fucking excited to finally get to it.
32
CHANCE
Three days after the attack, we finally go home. I drive, and Roxie sits in the passenger seat, bundled in one of Boone’s jackets, staring out at the snow-heavy pines.
Dillon and Boone follow us in Dillon’s truck. They came back yesterday to grab it so we can stock up at the hardware store, but none of us have set foot inside the house.
On our way out of town, Roxie and I stop for groceries, mostly as an excuse to buy ourselves ten extra minutes of normal before we drive up the mountain. Dillon and Boone make the rounds, picking up supplies we ordered to start repairs on the house.