30
I wake to the best view in the world. And I’m not talking about the jagged mountains cutting across the morning sky. It’s Dakota in my arms.
This is how it should be. Koty in my arms every goddamn morning.
This is how it will be.
Only Dakota in my bed. For the rest of my goddamn days, it’s this woman. It’s always been this woman. Her and no one else.
All these years, I never imagined Dakota felt the same way I did. Had I known that, would I have stayed away? Would I have told her earlier how I felt? It doesn’t matter. We have a second chance. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.
Not fucking up. Not letting go. Never again.
There’s time for us.
But first, Aiden King.
I have the bastard’s name now. I’m on the offense.
Already my mind lights on a game plan. Get his picture.
Call in every contact. Every favor. And if he sets foot in Resurrection—beat him so goddamn hard he won’t even be recognizable as a carcass.
Black and white has no meaning for me anymore. There’s only gray.
Only Dakota and that baby I love.
Nothing can happen to them. I wouldn’t survive it.
Dakota moans sleepily and buries her face in the pillow. Her black hair spills across her porcelain skin. Ebony on ivory.
I splay a hand over her swollen stomach, feeling the tumbling of movement inside. The wave of primal protection cresting over me has me by the throat.
This changes goddamn everything. This woman. This child. They are what I want.
The very fact that someone could touch her, lay a hand on her, has me livid. That fucking piece of shit who took Dakota’s light and then tried to destroy exactly what made her shine. I’m going to destroy the bastard.
Dakota’s story is a nightmare.
But from now on, she’ll only live in a dream.
I’ll see to that.
With quick, gentle fussing, I spread the blanket over her and take a second to stroke my hand down the curve of her spine. Then I pull on my jeans, grab my phone, and creep into the kitchen.
“Shit.”
Five missed calls from Charlie and one text.
Charlie: Wyatt went HAM last night.
Christ.
I text my brother back and pocket my phone.
Annoyance slices through me as I scan the small kitchen.
It’s a disaster, no doubt thanks to Ford.
Wrappers from the fancy cinnamon candies he loves to eat lay scattered across the counter.
I sweep them into the trash and hide away his fishing knife and tackle box.
In the cabinet, I find a small packet of instant coffee and a jug of water we keep in case of emergencies.
I mix the cold coffee, take a swig, then get back to Dakota.
I stare at her stomach, wrapped tight in the cotton sheets. “Cupcake,” I say, stroking a finger over her cheek. “You up?”
She stirs. “Best sleep ever.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, it was.”
On a yawn, she stretches out in the bed, her stomach sharking beneath the sheets.
“Listen, baby. I want to get back to the ranch as soon as we can.”
She sits up, eyes flashing. “Aiden?”
“I’m gonna head to the station, dig into it.” I scrape a hand over my scalp. “At least see where this bastard’s been.”
“You think he’s here?” Her hand goes to her belly, cradling it.
As a Marine, I try to rein any emotion back. Her words from last night unsettle me. Aiden plays the long game. Vague threat or truth? I can’t be sure. That’s why this can’t wait. Because what if he’s already here? What if he’s been here?
The thought has a cold sweat slicking over my skin.
The idea of her getting hurt or taken is unthinkable.
“You’re safe on the ranch,” I tell her. “I’m going to get eyes on King. If we can keep tabs on him, we have the upper hand.”
Defiance flashes in her eyes. “I hope he comes after me.”
“No.” The word is sharp, causing her to still.
“I hope I kill him.”
On a growl, I pluck her from where she sits and settle her on my lap. “He will never lay a hand on you again. I need you to understand that, Dakota.”
She tries to press against me, but I tighten my hold, refusing to budge.
So damn stubborn. She scares the hell out of me.
“You told me his name. Now, trust me to protect you.” I nudge a finger beneath her chin, force her gaze to mine. “I won’t lose you to this.”
She sighs and curls into me, resting her head against my collarbone. “And to think this whole night started with secrets.”
Secrets.
There’s one I haven’t given her yet.
“Listen, Cupcake. There’s something I have to tell you.”
She sits up, her hands going to my shoulders. “Another secret?”
I grip her tighter, terrified she won’t understand. “Another secret.”
I close my eyes, my chest heavy and tight. I’ve told Dakota more than I’ve ever told another person in my life. She’s heard about the darkest parts of me, and still brings me into the light.
“I killed a man.”
She smiles, amused. “You’re a Marine, Davis.”
“No. This was last year.” Her lips part in surprise. I go on. “The man who tried to take our ranch, who started the barn fire, who hurt Ruby…he came back. He came back to hurt us.”
Her fingers sweep over the soft scar on my shoulder. “And you killed him.”
It’s said so calmly that for a second, words fail me.
The knot in my throat refuses to budge. “I did.”
She stares at me without fear, and says, “They’re your family. You just got Charlie back. I would have done the same thing.” She says it simply, as if it hasn’t set off an atom bomb in my heart.
This woman’s going to be the death of me. She knows what I went through with my team. She knows about Charlie. And she knows this. And she isn’t afraid.
This strong, fearless woman.
This woman who is mine .
“He’s buried on the ranch,” I say. “It’s a protected reserve. No one can dig without getting tied up for years in permits. They’ll never find him.”
A contemplative nod. “Good. That’s good.”
“What do you say, Dakota?”
“I say…I love you, Davis Montgomery.” Her voice cracks. “And I’m so honored that you let me see you.”
“Only you.” The words wrench deep from my soul. I cup her cheek, stroking a thumb over her full bottom lip. “All these years, baby, I’ve been careless with your heart.Forgive me.”
She flashes me a grin. “Nothing to forgive, Hotshot.”
I kiss the top of her head, my heart still aching. “Never again.Rest of my life you’ll know where I stand.”
“And where’s that?”
“In love with you.” I lay her down on the bed and devour her mouth.
She gasps out a laugh and winds her arms around my neck.
At the ping of my phone, I growl impatiently.
Charlie again.
Dakota arches a droll brow. “The ranch calls.”
Groaning, I fall to my elbow beside her. Kiss her lips. “It does. I have to get back. Straighten out some things.”
“Like what?”
A muscle pulses in my jaw. “My brothers.”
Dakota rolls her eyes. “You know, you could bark at your brothers, Hotshot, or you could try to listen for once.”
A chuckle vibrates in my chest and I blow out a breath, considering it. With Dakota, she makes everything sound so easy.
My hand drops to her belly. “Could be good practice.”
She leans into me and smiles. “The best practice.”
Charlie’s in front of the stables saddling up Winslow when Dakota and I pull into the drive. With laughing eyes, she mouths, Listen , and disappears into the lodge.
Gritting my teeth, I stalk up to my brother. “What’s the damage?”
Charlie squints into the morning sun and loops the rein over the saddle horn. “Caught Wyatt puking in the bushes this morning. Kid tied one on last night.”
“Shit. Where is he?”
“Bullshit box. Working his way through a bottle of bourbon.” Charlie drags a hand down his beard. “Ford’s in the garage. Took him to the ER last night. He’s got twelve stitches and a fucking attitude.”
“Christ.” I feel like a goddamn high school principal as I run an assessing eye over my brother. Cut eyebrow. Bruised jaw. “You okay?”
“Got Ruby out of there in one piece, so that’s all I care about.” He hitches a broad shoulder, a smile ghosting his face. His dark blue eyes scan my rumpled appearance. “Looks like you’re doin’ better than me, man,” he says, punching me in the arm.
I reach out and squeeze his shoulder. “I appreciate that. Listen, we gotta talk later,” I say grimly. “I know the motherfucker’s name.”
Charlie’s face turns to stone. “You got it.”
Temper and concern fueling me, I stomp to the Bullshit Box. I had my confession with Dakota. Now it’s time for a come-to-Jesus with my dumbass little brother.
Wyatt sits at his desk, his head in his hands, a half-full bottle of Jim Beam beside him. Clear as day, my brother’s licking his wounds.
“Wyatt,” I boom.
“You don’t have to yell. Decibel levels, man.”
I snort when he lifts his head. On his face, a pair of sunglasses with one lens missing. “I feel like shit,” he groans.
I pull out a chair, sit beside him. “Don’t think it’s the bourbon that’s got you hurtin’, brother.”
Wyatt squints real hard at the bottle, then with a sigh, takes off the sunglasses and rubs his eyes. My little brother has that same lovesick look on his face I only associate with the McGraw women.
I decide to cut to the chase. “You and Fallon?”
“No. I don’t know.” He holds his head in his hands.
“I fucked it up. It’s my fault,” he says mournfully.
“Using Sheena last year to make her jealous. That’s why she’s doin’ all this.
” An unhappy growl rolls out of him. “I bet this guy she’s seeing is just some average fuckhead who doesn’t give a shit about her. ”
He’s trying to play it off, act like it’s no big deal, but those shadows under his eyes tell a different story. Wyatt’s brave enough to take on Fallon McGraw. Maybe he already has. One thing’s for certain—my little brother’s gonna fuck up what he never had before he even has it.
Which surprises me. Ever since I can remember, Wyatt’s been wild, free. No strings. Maybe he finally found the one girl who won’t give him the time of day. Because Fallon McGraw hates his guts and he’s still working for it.