Chapter 6 Kingston
KINGSTON
The cabin was quiet again, but nothing about it felt calm. Slade’s truck rumbled down the drive and disappeared into a cloud of white, leaving behind a silence that pressed in from every direction. I stood by the front door, one hand still braced on the frame like I needed help staying upright.
Scarlett was in my bed. Still. Last night felt like both a miracle and a mistake, like something I’d dreamed and something I’d never forget.
The feel of her body under mine, the way she’d touched me like she still knew me, still wanted me, still felt something besides anger.
I couldn’t stop replaying it, couldn’t stop feeling it in my skin, in my chest.
But that knock on the door had shifted everything. Slade brought reality crashing back in with him. I’d spent years building a life that could survive in the shadows. Now the shadows were gone, and I wasn’t ready for it.
I ran a hand over my beard and moved down the hall. The bedroom door was cracked open enough that I caught a glimpse of her curled under the quilt, her dark hair spilling over my pillow. She’d heard everything. I knew it in my gut.
I knocked once before pushing the door open. “Scarlett?”
She shifted and slowly sat up. Her eyes were guarded, her body tense. “Did he leave?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
She tucked her knees to her chest, the quilt still wrapped around her like a barrier. “That was Slade Kincaid, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah. I helped Ruby make a deal with him a while back to supply the beef for the new barbecue place in town.”
Her brows lifted. “You’ve been busy.”
I took a step closer, careful to keep my distance. “I wanted to help Mustang Mountain get back on its feet.”
“You did more than that.” Her voice was low and impossible to read. “You secured a future for Mustang Mountain. Only you didn’t want anyone to know.”
I swallowed hard. “Not everyone forgets the past. It’s easier to stay hidden and help from the shadows.”
She studied me for a long beat. “You think the people in this town wouldn’t accept you if they knew what really happened?”
“I know they wouldn’t. People don’t forget. They don’t forgive.”
She shook her head, disappointment tightening her features. “You don’t know that. You’re just afraid to find out.”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. Because she was right.
Scarlett swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood, the quilt slipping. She’d pulled on my sweatshirt again and it was hanging halfway off her shoulder. The sight of her like that almost brought me to my knees.
“You need to stop deciding things for other people,” she said. “For me. For this town. For your brother. You keep making sacrifices no one asked you to make.”
I clenched my fists at my sides. “What was I supposed to do, Scarlett? Let Kacen rot in prison? Let you get dragged into a mess you didn’t create?”
She stepped closer, her eyes flashing in a way that was fierce and beautiful and impossible to ignore. “You could’ve trusted me. That’s all I ever wanted. You could’ve let me in.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
Her jaw tightened. “I didn’t need protection. I needed you.”
Silence fell between us. I wanted to close the distance, to take her face in my hands and beg her to believe I’d done the best I could with what I had. But maybe my best hadn’t been enough.
“Slade’s planning something,” she said. “I could hear it in his voice.”
“He wants to bring a rodeo to town,” I said, grateful for the change of subject. “Ruby told me he brought it up last time he was at the Merc. He thinks it’ll draw crowds and bring in some tourism.”
Her lips twisted into a soft smile. “Mustang Mountain could use some good press.”
“Yeah. And Slade’s good at that kind of thing.”
She reached for her leggings and pulled them on under the hem of my sweatshirt. Her movements were quiet, methodical. “Are you going to get involved?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t build this life to be in the spotlight.”
“But you built it here,” she said, her voice going soft. “In this town. You could’ve gone anywhere. Started fresh.”
“I didn’t want a fresh start,” I admitted. “I wanted to be home.”
That got to her. Her breath caught, and her eyes shimmered. She looked away, then back. “You can still have that, you know. If you stop hiding.”
I crossed to her, finally brave enough to reach for her hand. “I’m tired of hiding. But I don’t know how to come back from everything I’ve done.”
“You start small,” she said. “Forgive yourself for doing the best you could at the time.”
I shook my head. “That might take a while.”
She smiled. “Then I’ll help you.”
I pulled her into my arms, breathing her in, grounding myself in her warmth. “You already are.”
She pressed her face to my chest, her voice muffled. “You don’t have to do this alone anymore.”
We stood like that for a long time while my world slowly shifted back into place.
Eventually, she stepped back. “Let’s make breakfast. I’m starving.”
“After the night we had, that seems fair.”
I followed her into the kitchen, watching as she moved around like she belonged here. She pulled eggs from the fridge, found a pan, and began cracking shells like she’d done it a hundred times.
“So what now?” she asked, flipping the eggs. “Are you going to march down Main and let everyone know you’re back?”
“Hardly.” I grabbed plates from the cupboard. “I thought I’d stop by Ruby’s place and thank her for outing me.”
Scarlett grinned. “She’ll love that.”
“Then maybe I’ll visit the barbecue place. Talk to Cullen and let him know who’s behind the beef deal.”
She raised a brow. “Look at you. Making friends.”
I chuckled. “One at a time.”
We ate at the kitchen table, side by side, our legs brushing, the silence between us comfortable. It was enough to make me think maybe this wasn’t a mistake after all.
After she’d popped the last bite of toast into her mouth, she leaned over and kissed my cheek. “I’m proud of you.”
Fuck. Her faith in me hit harder than I expected. “I’m not there yet.”
“But you will be.”
For the first time, I let myself believe it. The rest of the world faded away until the only thing that mattered was her palm against mine.
“I used to wonder,” she whispered, “if I imagined it.”
“Imagined what?”
“That we had something real. That it wasn’t just young love or hormones or small-town fairytale stuff. But when I touched your hand back then, it felt like this. And now”—she gave my fingers a slight squeeze—“it still does.”
I didn’t trust my voice, so I leaned in slowly, giving her plenty of time to pull away. She didn’t. Her eyes stayed on mine like she was bracing for impact.
“I thought you’d forget me,” I said. “I told myself you would. It was the only way I could sleep at night.”
“I didn’t,” she murmured. “Not for a second.”
My thumb brushed along the back of her hand. “I never stopped thinking about you, Scarlett. Not one damn day.”
Her lips parted, and I couldn’t stop looking at them.
Last night, when we kissed, it had been heat and pain and pent-up frustration. But this was something else entirely. This was slower, sweeter, and it scared the hell out of me.
She stood, never breaking our connection, and stepped closer. “I need you to mean it this time,” she said. “If you’re going to kiss me again, it can’t be like last night. It can’t be just a moment. I’ve done my waiting. I need the truth.”
“I don’t know how to give you anything but the truth.”
“Then show me.”
My heart stuttered. She was so close I could feel the heat of her body, the soft pull of her breath syncing up with mine.
I got to my feet. Her other hand slid up to the side of my neck, her thumb brushing against my jaw like she was committing it to memory.
“Kingston…”
I kissed her. This time, it wasn’t desperate.
It was reverent. Her lips parted, and I deepened the kiss.
She melted into me like she belonged there.
Like we hadn’t wasted more than a decade being strangers.
My arms circled her waist and pulled her close.
I felt the way her breath hitched, how her fingers curled into the fabric of my shirt like she never wanted to let go.
When our mouths finally broke apart, she didn’t move. Her forehead rested against mine, her hands still locked around me. I breathed her in. Cinnamon and firelight. That was what Scarlett Monroe would always smell like in my memory.
“I never wanted to lose you,” I said.
“You didn’t,” she whispered. “You just forgot how to find your way back.”
We stayed like that, wrapped in quiet, warm silence, until the wind outside reminded us the world hadn’t disappeared. It only paused for a while.
Scarlett pulled back and searched my face. “Is there more? More I don’t know?”
My gut twisted as I nodded.
“I want to know all of it.”
“I’ll tell you,” I promised. “Everything. But I’m going to need some time.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
I exhaled, and the relief was instant. For the first time in years, someone saw all of me and wasn’t running the other direction. She slipped her hand into mine again and led me to the bed. We sat down, side by side, her head resting against my shoulder.
It wasn’t sex. It wasn’t silence. It was something better.
Connection.
And I knew right then I wasn’t going to lose her again. I wouldn’t let myself. Not this time.