Chapter 11 #2
She sniffed back a tear. “It absolutely does not belong on pizza.”
“And there it is.” His smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. This moment was rare, unguarded, and it felt foreign in the best possible way. “The woman worth staying alive for.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it.
They walked to her apartment from the parking area beneath a darkening sky studded with emerging stars. The air carried the faint scent of processed ore from inside the compound. Their hands stayed linked, their shoulders bumping occasionally. Each touch sent a small jolt of awareness through him.
The mining compound had gone almost still. Most of the dayshift workers were asleep, the hum of generators filling the silence with a low, steady vibration.
Riley’s apartment was on the second floor of the executive housing complex. Her balcony overlooked the now quiet processing facility. She fumbled with her keys at the door, her breath catching just slightly, and Talon caught the subtle tremor in her hands.
“Riley.” He stepped closer, covering her hands with his, stilling the restless movement. His voice stayed low and steady. He realized it was probably the same tone he used to talk someone back from the edge during an op. “We don’t have to do anything except what feels right.”
Her head lifted, and in the dim hallway light, he could see vulnerability and longing written clearly in her expression. “What feels right to you?”
“Being with you,” he said simply. “However, that looks.”
As her breath released in a small, shaky exhale, she turned the key and pushed the door open.
Inside, her apartment was small with only two rooms, but it felt warm.
A few books were on the shelves, some spines worn from reading.
Framed photographs dotted the walls, and a fluffy blanket draped over the back of the couch.
He turned to the memories and moments frozen in time on the walls.
One picture was the opening of this camp, where Riley stood beside a man who had to be her father.
The similarity was undeniable. But he shut off the thought of that bastard.
He wasn’t welcome there tonight. After Talon’s gaze swept the room, he decided it felt like her, warm and welcoming.
She turned toward him, the faintest hint of uncertainty in her eyes, and he recognized the courage it took for her to stand there.
“I should tell you,” she began, her voice careful. “I haven’t … I haven’t been with anyone in a very long time.”
Talon closed the space between them, his movements deliberate. He cupped her face gently in his hands, and the soft brush of her hair against his fingers felt like silk. “Riley. Look at me.”
She did, those blue eyes wide, searching, trusting.
“We have all the time in the world,” he said, his voice steady and certain. “I’m not going anywhere. There’s no timeline, no expectations. Just us, figuring this out together.”
The relief that washed across her face made something in his chest ache. “I’ve never met anyone like you.”
“Good,” he said, a rare warmth threading through his words. “You understand you’re stuck with me now, right?”
Riley laughed, the sound light and unguarded. Then she kissed him.
It was tentative at first, almost questioning, her lips soft against his, testing. He slid one hand to the small of her back, drawing her closer. She melted against him with a soft sigh that sent his heart pounding like a jackhammer against his ribs.
The world outside those walls didn’t matter. Not the training, not the convoys, not the dangers stacking up in the background. Right now, there was only Riley. And in an answer to unsaid prayers, she was in his arms.
Her lips lingered on his, soft and searching, as if she were still testing the reality of him being there. He stood strong, solid, and wholly hers for the first time. Talon let her set the pace, his touch steady, anchoring them in the moment.
When she finally drew back, her breath was uneven, and her hands were still curled against his chest as if she couldn’t quite let go.
He rested his forehead against hers, his voice low and certain. “You don’t have to be afraid with me. Not of this. I’ll never ask for more than you want to give.”
Her breath hitched, but she didn’t pull away. “I know,” she whispered. “That’s why it’s terrifying.”
The words pierced something in him. He understood exactly what she meant. He brushed his thumb along her cheek, feeling a faint tremor and the warmth of her skin under his calloused fingers. “Then we take it slow.”
She nodded, but her hands tightened on him. “Slow doesn’t mean distant.”
That small confession undid him. Talon bent to kiss her again, deeper this time, a gentle claim that spoke more than words could.
Riley rose onto her toes, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.
The air between them charged, warming the connection between them. God, he felt so fucking alive.
They moved together without thought, her steps guiding them toward the couch.
The throw blanket brushed against the back of his hand as she eased down, pulling him with her.
Talon braced himself, one knee anchored on the cushion so he didn’t crush her beneath his weight, his touch careful even as his pulse hammered.
Her breath came faster. Her fingertips brushed along his jaw, exploring like she was memorizing him. “You’re real,” she said softly, almost in wonder.
He caught her hand, pressing it over his heart. “I’ve always been real. And I’m not going anywhere.” The need to reassure her took over. He’d never willingly leave her.
Her eyes softened at that, the blue deepening with emotion. Talon kissed her again—slower this time, every movement deliberate. His hands traced the curve of her waist, her breath caught under his touch, but he didn’t rush. Every kiss, every caress was meant to tell her she was safe.
Riley’s hands found their way to his shoulders, sliding upward into his hair. Her sigh against his mouth sent heat coiling through him, but he held the line. It was damn near impossible, but this wasn’t about his urgency. This, tonight, now, was about them.
When they finally broke apart, both were breathing hard, their foreheads still resting together.
“I’ve waited over a year for this, to hold you in my arms,” Talon said quietly. “Every damn day, I wanted to be with you. Not because of what was going on when I found you, but because of everything that’s happened since. Because you matter to me.”
Her eyes glistened, her voice a whisper. “You matter to me, too. More than I know how to explain.”
He kissed her again, softly this time, and then drew her against his chest. They stayed there, tangled together on her couch, the night outside deepening to full dark.
The hum of the plant’s generators in the distance was a faint reminder of the world beyond her walls.
However, inside, there was nothing except the quiet sound of their breathing and the steady beat of his heart under her cheek.
For Talon, who had lived his life in chaos, this was something rare. Riley was peace, his peace. He knew, without saying it, that his life with her was just beginning.
They stayed on the couch for a long time, wrapped in a silence that wasn’t awkward.
The brush of her fingertips, every steady pass of his thumb over her hand, spoke more than words could.
Riley shifted slightly, curling closer to him, her head resting in the curve of his shoulder.
Talon felt her breathing even out, slower now, like she’d finally allowed herself to settle.
He’d never realized how much tension he carried until her weight against him made some of it loosen.
His hand slid through her hair, the strands soft and cool against his calloused fingers.
The reality of her, with him, hit him again.
He’d waited so long for this moment. He’d waited through nights on the other side of the world and through missions that had pulled him farther away from her in distance but never in thought.
“Riley,” he said quietly.
She lifted her head, her blue eyes catching the faint lamplight. “Hmm?”
Talon cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing across her cheekbone. “I love you,” he said, the words surprising him with their simplicity and certainty. “I love your courage, your intelligence, your stubborn refusal to accept easy answers.”
Tears gathered in Riley’s eyes, shimmering but steady. They weren’t the tears of fear he’d seen once before. These were something else entirely. “I love you, too,” she whispered, her voice sure. “More than I thought was possible.”
The air between them seemed to still. There was nothing left unspoken now, nothing standing between them except the promise they’d both just made.