CHAPTER NINE
Crew
The drive back was long and quiet. Too quiet.
The kind of silence that presses against your ribs until you can’t breathe right.
The heater rattled, the tires hissed over packed snow, and every time the wipers swept by, I caught a glimpse of her reflection in the window—jaw tight, hands fisted in her lap, pretending she wasn’t sitting next to me thinking about how deep I’d been inside her an hour ago.
She didn’t say a damn thing the whole way. Did she realize I’d confessed things with my body that my mouth was too cowardly to say?
I could still smell her on my skin. Still taste her. There was still the phantom sensation of her wrapped around me, tight and hot and perfect. And the sounds she’d made.
My hands ached to reach for her. My body was still thrumming with need despite how thoroughly I’d taken her. And the silence. Fuck, the silence was killing me. Because it meant she was thinking. Overthinking. Building walls and finding reasons why this couldn’t work.
By the time I hit the turnoff for the mill, my knuckles were white on the steering wheel and my chest was tight with something that felt too much like fear. I couldn’t do another mile of this silence. Not from her.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on in that head of yours?” I asked. My words were edged with the frustration and fear I was trying to hold back.
She didn’t look at me. “There’s nothing to tell.”
“That right?” The words came out harsh, disbelieving.
Her shoulders lifted, slow and careful, like she was afraid anything louder than a whisper would break whatever was left between us.
“You’ve barely said two words to me since we left.”
Her breath hitched. I watched her throat work, watched her hands clench tighter in her lap. “Maybe I don’t know what to say.”
I pulled the truck to the side of the road, tires crunching over snow.
The sky was gray and heavy, the kind that promised another storm before nightfall.
My heart was pounding, adrenaline spiking like I was heading into combat.
Because this felt just as dangerous. This felt like I could lose everything that mattered.
“Then I’ll start,” I said.
She turned, eyes wide. Eyes full of fear and want and uncertainty that made my chest ache. “Crew—”
“Don’t,” I cut in. “Don’t give me some polite brush-off. You’re sitting there acting like nothing happened. Like I didn’t fucking claim you, Charlotte.”
Her cheeks flushed hot, pink rising from her collar. “You think saying it like that helps?”
“I think it’s the truth,” I growled.
She crossed her arms, trying to put a wall between us that wasn’t there anymore. I knew she was trying to protect herself from me, from this, from the inevitable hurt she thought was coming.
“You came here as a favor to Race. You work the season. Then you move on. That’s the truth.”
Was that what she thought? That I’d touched her like that, claimed her like that, made her mine like that—and then just walk away? “Is it?”
She finally looked at me. Really looked at me, and I saw it all there—the fear, the vulnerability, the desperate hope she was trying to kill before it could hurt her. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Because you know better.”
Her eyes narrowed. Defensive now. “Do I?”
“Yeah,” I said, leaning closer, voice dropping to a rasp. Getting in her space, making her feel me, making her remember. “You think I’d fuck you like that and just walk away? You think I’d kiss you like that and mean nothing by it?”
She didn’t answer. She just stared, lips parted like she couldn’t decide whether to argue or keep quiet. I knew she was torn between the fear of believing me and the fear of me leaving.
“Say it,” I murmured. My voice going softer, more dangerous. “Say you think that’s all it was.”
“Why, so you can gloat?” She looked around wildly, wanting to run, but there was nowhere she could go.
Didn’t she know I’d given her pieces of myself I’d never given anyone?
I caught her chin, and kissed her—hard, deep, brutal.
The kind of kiss that I prayed erased every question, every doubt she had.
The kind of kiss that was a claim and a promise and a confession all at once.
Her hands came up, trembling, pushing at my chest for half a second before she surrendered with a whimper, opening for me, taking everything I gave her.
I didn’t stop.
Didn’t want to.
Her mouth opened under mine, soft and wet and perfect, and I poured every word I hadn’t said into it.
Every fear, every need, every desperate feeling I’d been trying to ignore.
When I finally broke away, I rested my forehead against hers, both of us breathing hard.
“Does that feel like I’m leaving?” I rasped.
“Does that feel like I don’t want you again? ”
She blinked up at me, eyes dark. “Crew…”
“You’ve not said two words to me the whole drive,” I said, my voice raw with emotion I couldn’t hide anymore. “And I’ve been holding back three.”
Her lips parted. “Three?”
“Yeah.”
I grabbed her waist and hauled her across the console onto my lap.
I caught her mouth again, kissing her deep until her fingers dug into my shoulders.
I pulled back just enough to look at her—flushed cheeks, messy hair, the tiniest tremor in her lip.
She was so beautiful it hurt. And so freaking perfect it terrified me.
“You think I’m here for Race?” I whispered against her mouth.
My hands tightened on her, pulling her closer, needing her to understand.
“I did come here to repay a debt, but that’s not why I’m still here.
I stayed because of you.” I brushed my lips against her throat.
“Stayed because I couldn’t walk away if I tried. I love you, Charlotte.”
She froze. I could see the moment it hit her—the disbelief, the shock, the flood of everything she’d been holding back since the day we met. The moment she realized I wasn’t playing. That I meant it. That this was real.
I cupped the back of her neck, forcing her to look at me. I wanted her to see the truth in my eyes, the certainty, the absolute conviction. “You hear me? I fucking love you.”
“Oh, Crew.” I saw the tears in her eyes, the trembling of her lips and I knew I needed to convince her some more.
“I love you,” I said again, slower this time, each word sinking in deep. “You’re mine, Charlotte. You’re mine, and I’m done pretending I don’t need you. I’m done running. I’m done hiding. I’m done being afraid. You’re mine, and I’m yours, and that’s how it’s going to be.”
Her hands trembled as she cupped my face. Her touch gentle like she couldn’t quite believe this was real.
I growled low in my chest, dragged her down, and kissed her until there wasn’t a breath left between us.
Outside, the snow kept falling, heavy and endless, blanketing the world in silence.
Inside the truck, all I could hear was her heartbeat against my chest. All I could feel was her in my arms, exactly where she belonged. All I could think was mine, mine, mine.
I rested my hand on the back of her neck, thumb tracing slow circles against her skin. Soothing, claiming, anchoring us both. “You still think I’m leaving?”
She smiled faintly, voice soft. Still a little shaky, still a little disbelieving, but with hope shining through. “Not anymore.”
“Good,” I said, kissing her again. Softer this time, sweeter, full of promise. “Because I’m not letting you go.”
And this time, she didn’t argue. Just wrapped her arms around my neck, pressed her face against my throat, and whispered three words back that made my entire world shift on its axis.
“I love you.”
I held her tighter, my chest tight with emotion I’d spent years running from. With feelings I’d thought I’d never be capable of again. With a future I hadn’t dared to dream about.