Page 59 of Shadow Strike
“Yeah?”
“A mini-series about what happened.The extortion, the investigation, all of it—but ending with what’s happening now.The restructuring, the cleanup, the people who are trying to do better.”She met his eyes.“I want to tell the whole story.Not just the ugly parts.”
Warmth spread through his chest.“Phoenix from the ashes.”
“Exactly.”Regan smiled.“I’m releasing it right before the Fourth of July ride.I hope it encourages people to show up, donate, and get involved.The ride for youth deserves attention—positive attention, for once.Are you okay with that?”
“Okay with it?I’m grateful.My mom would have loved it.”
Regan’s smile softened.“That’s kind of the point.”
He leaned in and kissed her, not caring that half the bar could see.When he pulled back, her cheeks were flushed.
“I have something for you,” he said.“Well, for your list.”
“My list?”
“Kitchen.Come on.”
She followed him through the swinging door, past Pete at the grill, to the bulletin board mounted near the walk-in cooler.The list of rules was still there, pinned in the center, but updated from the originals.The running joke they’d built together over the past few weeks.
Rule 1: No lying about being fine.
Rule 2: Partners share the load.
Rule 3: Trust goes both ways.
And so on, each one a small piece of the language they’d developed.A shorthand for everything they’d been through and everything they’d become.
CB pulled a marker from his pocket and wrote beneath the existing rules.
Rule 8: Fine or not, remember I love you.
Regan stared at the words.
For a long moment, she didn’t move.CB watched her face, watching the way her expression shifted from surprise to something deeper—something that made her eyes shine, and her breath catch.
Then she started crying.Just a tiny tear out of the corner of her eye.She dashed it away with the back of her hand and turned away from him.
Was it too much?Too soon?Had he completely misread things between them?Did she not feel the same way?“Regan…?”
In a split instant, she whirled, threw her arms around him, and buried her face against his chest.He held her carefully, mindful of the still-healing scar on his side, and felt her shoulders shake with the force of emotions he understood better than words could express.
“I love you, too,” she said, her voice muffled against his shirt.“I love you, too.”
CB pressed his lips to the top of her head and closed his eyes.
Outside, the summer sun beat down on Montana.The bar hummed with voices and laughter.Somewhere in the distance, a motorcycle engine rumbled to life.
And in the kitchen of Hill’s Tavern, surrounded by the smell of green chile burgers and the warmth of a woman who’d changed everything, CB finally felt like he was home.
EPILOGUE
Thanksgiving
Regan stoodbehind the bar and surveyed the chaos with something close to wonder.
Hill’s Tavern had been transformed.Orange and gold streamers hung from the rafters.Paper turkeys decorated the windows.Every table was draped in white cloth and set with real plates and silverware instead of the usual plastic baskets and paper napkins.
