Page 54 of Defiant Hearts

A shiver danced along her nerves, and she lifted her head to look at him. “Why?”

“I liked how it looked. How it felt. I guess it gives me something to do with my hand too.”

Her chest felt full and soft at that, at the thought of him carrying a piece of that night with him every day since. The same way she carried her own version of it—mostly fear until recently. Now she carried something else too.

“That’s the least tough-guy thing I’ve ever heard,” she teased, propping her chin on his chest.

His chest rumbled with a laugh. “Don’t tell the others.”

She grinned. “Your secret’s safe.” She traced a finger along one of the old scars on his shoulder, pale and faded with age. “What about this scar?”

“Barbed wire fence. I was nineteen, showing off on a dirt bike I had no business riding that fast.” He caught her hand before she could ask about the next one. “That’s a story for another night. We’ll run out of scars eventually if I tell you all of them at once.”

“Promises, promises.”

He laughed, low and warm, the sound vibrating under her ear where it rested against his chest. She loved that sound. Loved that she’d been the one to pull it out of him tonight, more than once.

“You okay?” he asked after a moment, voice gentler now, checking in the way he always seemed to be checking in with her, like her wellbeing sat permanently at the front of his mind. “That was—”

“Perfect.” She said it before he could finish fumbling for the word himself. “It was perfect, Wyatt.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and she felt him relax fully beneath her, some last thread of tension she hadn’t even detected finally letting go.

“I mean it,” she added, quieter. “I don’t think I knew what safe or…seen was supposed to feel like until tonight.”

He tightened his arms around her, and he didn’t say anything for a moment, giving her the impression his response might be too deep for an easy response.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said at last. “Whatever comes next. I need you to know that.”

She believed him. That was the strangest part—after months of trusting no one and believing nothing, she believed this man completely, lying naked in his bed with his heart thudding steady beneath her ear.

She shifted, propping herself up on one elbow to look down at him properly, and let her gaze drift deliberately south, taking her time about it.

“So,” she said, voice dropping into something far less innocent than a moment ago. “About that whole not going anywhere thing.”

He raised an eyebrow, already reading exactly where this was headed. “Yeah?”

“I was thinking.” She trailed her fingers slowly down his stomach, watching the muscles jump under her touch and interest spark back to life in his eyes. “I think it would be a good idea to test our stamina.”

“Do you?” His lips quirked upward in a smile that made her heart stutter.

“Mm-hm.” She leaned down, lips brushing his ear. “Show me what you can do.”

His laugh turned into a groan the second her hand found him again, already half-hard and rapidly losing the battle for restraint.

She didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. Didn’t know when Lance would surface again, or where, or whether this fragile safety she’d built here would hold or shatter the second Lance and his gang found a crack. She didn’t know where any of this ended, but she couldn’t stay in hiding here forever.

The mountain had taught her one thing—the only moment a person could hold on to was the one happening right now.

So she held on to this one. Held on to Wyatt.

And let tomorrow wait its turn.

Chapter Twelve

Wyatt had barely sat down to eat when the text summons came.

War room. Now.