Chapter 30 Ryder #2
The blindfold comes off slowly. Light hits first, then shape, followed by scale, and for a second, my brain refuses to catch up with what my eyes are seeing.
A house sits in front of us, built of stone and dark timber, glass catching the last of the sunset and throwing it back at the sky.
It’s one of the houses Cole has been working on for the past couple of months. My dad came up with a project to build each Morgan sibling their own house on the property when the main house started getting too overcrowded with everyone getting married and having kids.
When Beck called to inform me I’d be getting a house too, I declined as I never saw myself returning here, but he said Dad was having none of that and we were all getting one. They are not set to be complete for at least another three months, but this one seems to be done.
“What’s going on?” I ask, looking around at all the grinning faces around me.
Dad’s explanation is clipped. “You came back, so we made room.”
Ella smiles, eyes bright. “Cole designed it with you in mind. He’s been working on it nonstop.”
Cole scratches the back of his neck, suddenly shy. “You like quiet and privacy. Thought you deserved a place that didn’t feel borrowed.”
Beck steps forward, hands shoved into his pockets, trying and failing to look casual. “So… yeah. Uh… Welcome home, brother.”
Kate’s hand tightens in mine, her breath catching sharp beside me. They don’t crowd us—that’s the thing that gets me most—they hang back, like they know this part isn’t for them. Kate turns into me, face buried against my chest, shoulders shaking.
She laughs through tears. “I was not emotionally prepared for this family.”
“None of us were,” Tessa mutters, earning a snort from Jace.
I look at my family—Zane, solid as ever; Jace, always watchful; Beck, grinning too wide because emotion makes him nervous; Ella, soft and strong; and Dad, the unmoving center of it all. I’ve spent ten years convincing myself I didn’t fit here anymore, but they never agreed.
I finally find my voice, rough as gravel. “Fine, you win. I won’t rebuild the mountain home. I’ll stay here, at Iron Stallion, with all of you,” I decree quietly.
The words land like a vow. Kate’s breath catches, and Ella smiles like she’s been waiting for that sentence her whole life. Hollers, cheers, tears, and lots of hugs follow.
Before it gets too much, I bend and scoop Kate up without thinking. She squeaks in protest, then laughs, arms wrapping around my neck. “Ryder,” she warns.
I kiss her forehead and carry her across the threshold, heart pounding hard enough to feel dangerous. The house smells like fresh wood and clean air. I kick the door shut with my heel, and on the other side, there’s an immediate chorus of exaggerated groans.
“Oh, come on,” Beck complains loudly. “At least let us see the kitchen layout!”
“Give them ten minutes,” Quinn calls back, laughter in her voice.
“Ten?” Ava scoffs. “Be generous.”
Kate’s face burns against my neck. “Horrible people,” she mutters.
“Our people,” I correct, and something in my voice makes her eyes flick up to mine.
Outside, Dad’s voice rumbles, amused and calm. “Leave them be.”
Their footsteps retreat, and voices fade as they give us privacy.
Kate slowly slides down from my arms, her boots touching the floor, her gaze sweeping the space like she can’t believe it’s real. The entryway opens into wide, clean lines—stone, timber, and glass. The kind of architecture that breathes.
“It’s… beautiful,” she whispers.
I watch her more than the house.
“It’s quiet,” she adds, softer, then she turns, eyes shining. “It feels like you.”
She moves forward, slow, reverent, fingers trailing along the wall as if she needs to touch every inch to convince herself it exists. I follow, my steps heavy, controlled, my body still buzzing with everything I haven’t said.
We pass the living room with vaulted ceilings, windows that look out onto the sleeping pasture and the dark silhouette of Iron Stallion beyond. The moonlight spills in, silver and calm.
“This is yours,” she murmurs.
I shake my head once. “Ours.”
My hand slides to her waist, pulling her flush against me. “I love you,” I confess, breathing the words to life for the first time.
She smiles so wide, her whole countenance lighting up. “I love you more.”
My mouth finds hers, the kiss immediate and deep, swallowing the rest of the distance between us. Kate makes a sound against my lips, her hands gripping my shirt like she’s afraid to fall.
I back her toward the nearest wall, the glass beside us cold, the contrast brutal against the heat building fast inside my body. Her coat is the first thing to go, then mine. Kate’s fingers slip beneath my shirt, palms skimming skin, and I feel the way she shudders from want.
“This house,” she whispers against my mouth, dizzy. “We should…”
“Christen it,” I finish, voice dark.
Her laugh is breathless. “Yes.”
I lift her without effort, her legs wrapping around my waist. I carry her down the hallway, toward the bedroom that waits at the end like a promise. The door closes behind us, and the rest of the world disappears.
The bedroom is dark except for the moonlight spilling in through the glass, pale and silver across the sheets. Kate stands in the middle of it like she doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry, her breathing unsteady, her hair coming loose around her shoulders.
She turns slowly, eyes finding mine, and something in her expression breaks me open in a way bullets never could.
I pull her closer, my hands sliding to her waist, and this time the kiss is slower.
She melts against me with a soft sound, fingers curling into my shoulders, and I feel the exact moment she lets go—of fear, doubt, and the last months of survival that have lived in her bones.
My mouth moves to her jaw, her throat, tasting her like promise.
She exhales my name like a prayer. “Ryder…”
“I’ve got you,” I murmur. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Her hands find my face, holding me there, forcing me to stay in the moment instead of disappearing into instinct.
“Say it again,” she whispers.
“I’m staying.”
I bridge the gap between us and take my time stripping off all the layers on her, until she stands in front of me—all naked glory, bathed in the moonlight. A shudder runs through her as I lift her carefully, lay her back onto the bed as she watches me with wide, luminous eyes.
I kiss her again—slower, thorough, worshipful.
My hands trace her like I’m memorizing her.
Kate’s back arches when I move lower, her fingers gripping the sheets, her voice breaking on my name.
My mouth wraps around her nipples. I don’t rush.
I take my time, because this isn’t frantic.
This is claiming. This is me choosing to stay.
Her hands pull me closer, her body answering mine with desperate honesty, every touch a yes, every breath a surrender.
“Ryder,” she whispers, trembling. “Please.”
I press my forehead to hers, breath ragged. “I’ve got you,” I murmur. “I’m not leaving.”
Kate makes a sound that is almost a sob, then she kisses me as if she believes it. The world narrows to skin, warmth, and the way she holds on like she’s afraid of waking up.
She reaches for me, her legs wrapping around me like she’s claiming what she was always meant to have.
We moan simultaneously when I thrust forward, burying myself in her.
Then I start rocking my hips, taking my time with her.
She meets each of my thrusts with one of her own.
We move together, slow and building, the kind of intimacy that isn’t just hunger—it’s love and devotion.
“I love you,” I moan against her neck.
She pulls my head to meet her eyes. “I love you more.”
My heart nearly bursts from the love reflected back at me. My lips find hers, but only for a moment before I flip her over, pull her ass up, and reclaim where I need her most. Kate arches her back, giving me the perfect view of her lovely back and ass.
If she keeps being this seductive, Julian will have a sibling in nine months.
I grab her hips, the only sound filling the room being of her ass slamming against my balls, the scent of sex all around us.
She breaks first, shuddering beneath me, my name on her lips like a prayer.
When I finally let go, it’s with my mouth against her shoulder, my arms locked around her like I could fuse her into my ribs.
I pull her into my arms, and she curls against me, her fingers tracing idle lines across my skin, her breathing slow. Outside, Iron Stallion sleeps. Inside, I hold the woman who turned my life into something worth staying for.
Kate tilts her head up, eyes soft. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
I kiss her forehead. “Welcome home, baby.”
And for the first time in my life, I believe in forever.
THE END.