Chapter Forty-Six
Brady
Morning light poured through the guest house windows, soft and golden, like the world had decided to be gentle for once.
I woke first.
Elise was curled against me, her hair a wild dark tangle across the pillow, one leg thrown possessively over mine. The sheet had slipped low on her back. I traced a slow finger down her spine, watching goosebumps rise in its wake.
She woke and stretched then gave me a slow, sweet kiss.
And desire flared.
We moved together without urgency. Sunlight slid across bare skin.
Laughter turned into heavy breaths, each coming faster as want turned into need.
She tried to keep that fierce control of hers, but I felt the exact moment it slipped.
Her fingers tightened in my hair. Her head tipped back.
My name broke from her lips like a confession.
I wanted to live inside that sound.
Afterward we lay tangled in the sheets, catching our breath. I traced lazy circles on her hip, memorizing the way she looked in the morning light—flushed, relaxed, mine in every way that mattered.
A knock sounded at the front door.
I groaned.
Elise opened one eye. “We could ignore it.”
“I’m not sure they won’t come in.”
She smiled, soft and sleepy. “That would be unfortunate.”
I kissed her shoulder before forcing myself out of bed. “I’ll be right back.”
She sat up, sheet gathered against her chest, hair wild.
I pulled on jeans and a shirt, gave Elise one more long kiss, then headed for the door.
On the porch sat a basket of still-warm muffins with a note from Mrs. Davis saying she and her husband were glad we’d chosen their guesthouse and to let them know if we needed anything.
I carried the basket inside. Elise appeared in the hallway wearing one of my sleep shirts and a pair of shorts. “Who was it?”
I held up a muffin. “An angel delivering what can only be described as freshly baked pieces of heaven.”
Elise looked at it in wonder. “This place. Can this be real?”
“It’s as real as we allow it to be.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out the small box I’d carried since Basin Ridge. “I have something for you.”
She stepped closer.
“Remember the turquoise we found together?” I asked. “The one with the cracks that got filled in instead of breaking apart. The stone should have shattered, but it didn’t. It became something even more beautiful.”
I opened the box. The smooth cabochon gleamed, the dark veins dramatic against the rich blue, set in a simple, sleek bezel on a delicate chain, minimalist, elegant, and so her.
Elise went very still.
I stepped behind her, brushed her hair aside, and fastened the chain. My fingers lingered on the nape of her neck. The turquoise settled directly over her heart.
She touched it, then turned in my arms. Her eyes were bright.
“We don’t have to be perfect,” I told her. “We just have to be strong.”
Her fingers curled around the stone. “Yes,” she said, voice husky. “I’m beginning to see that.”
She kissed me softly, the necklace settling between us. When she pulled back, her smile was shaky but real. “You’re dangerous, Brady Holliston. You’re everything I don’t want to live without.”
I hugged her to me, returning her passion with my own, but pausing to murmur, “Good. I feel the same.”
We stood there in the morning light of a house that wasn’t ours but already felt like home. The fear for Evan was still there, a low ache, but it no longer filled every corner.
This was my person.
I knew it down to my bones.
We’d been tested and come out stronger.