Chapter 35 Lucy
Lucy
I wake to the sound of breathing. Three different rhythms weaving together like a symphony. Gabriel's deep and steady beneath me, Colt's rougher cadence to my left, Beau's controlled exhales against my shoulder. The harmony makes my chest warm and impossibly tight.
I'm sprawled across Gabriel's broad chest, his arm a possessive weight across my waist. Colt's calloused hand rests on my bare hip, fingers still curled around me even in sleep, while Beau's long leg tangles with mine, his face peaceful in the golden Montana sunrise filtering through the shutters.
Twenty-one years old today, and this is exactly how I want to celebrate my birthday.
The thought makes me smile against Gabriel's warm skin.
If someone had told me a year ago that I'd be celebrating my twenty-first birthday naked in a sheriff's bed with three men who've claimed every inch of me, I would've laughed until I cried.
Now? Now I can't imagine any other way to mark this day.
Gabriel stirs beneath me, his arm tightening reflexively before consciousness fully returns. When it does, his hand slides up my spine in a slow caress that makes me shiver despite the warmth radiating from his body.
"Morning, Trouble." His voice is gravelly with sleep and satisfaction, lips brushing the shell of my ear in a way that sends heat racing through me despite everything we did last night.
"Morning." I press a soft kiss to his collarbone, tasting salt and something uniquely him. "Sleep good?"
His free hand tangles in my hair, tilting my face up so I can see those blue eyes, clearer and more content than I've ever seen them. "Best sleep I've had in years," he admits, thumb tracing my cheekbone with reverent fingers. "You?"
"Like a baby." I study his face in the morning light. Stubble darker than usual, hair mussed from my fingers, but those eyes warm and trusting in a way that makes my heart stutter.
Before he can respond, Colt's rough voice cuts through our quiet moment. "If you two are done being disgustingly sweet, some of us are trying to sleep here."
I laugh, the sound bright and carefree in Gabriel's rustic bedroom. "Good morning to you too, grumpy."
"I ain't grumpy," he protests, though his green eyes are still closed and there's a satisfied smirk playing at his lips. "I'm what you call thoroughly satisfied. There's a difference, Shortie."
"Mmm." Beau's voice is a low rumble that vibrates through my bones. He opens one storm-gray eye to look at me, and the heat there makes me remember exactly why every muscle in my body feels deliciously used. "Very satisfied, Sunshine."
These men, these beautiful, complicated men, have marked me as theirs in every way possible. And I've never felt safer.
"Good morning to you too." I reach over Gabriel to trace the strong line of Beau's jaw, marveling at the slight roughness of his morning stubble. "All of you."
We lie there for long, stolen minutes, trading lazy kisses and quiet murmurs. Gabriel's fingers map the curve of my spine. Colt's thumb draws circles on my hip bone. Beau presses soft kisses to whatever skin he can reach. It's intimate and perfect and so fragile I'm afraid to breathe too hard.
Until Gabriel's stomach growls loudly enough to make us all laugh.
"Breakfast," Beau declares, sitting up and stretching like a big cat. Sunlight catches the lean muscles of his torso, and I have to bite my lip to keep from groaning. "I'll cook."
"You sure?" Gabriel asks, already reaching for his jeans. "This is my house."
Beau just shrugs, but there's something soft in his expression as he looks at me. "Want to take care of our girl."
Our girl. The words should probably bother me. This casual claim of ownership. Instead, they make me feel cherished in a way I've never experienced. Protected. Wanted. Home.
"Your girl likes that idea," I murmur, earning three very different but equally satisfied smiles.
Twenty minutes later, we're gathered around Gabriel's kitchen table, a massive slab of reclaimed barn wood that's probably older than all of us combined.
The morning light streams through windows that frame the rolling Montana hills beyond, painting everything in gold and making this moment feel like something out of a dream.
Beau moves around Gabriel's kitchen like he was born to it, flipping perfect golden pancakes on the cast-iron griddle while bacon sizzles in another pan.
He's shirtless, wearing only jeans that hang low on his hips, and I have to force myself to look away before I completely lose my train of thought.
"Coffee's ready," Colt announces, setting a steaming mug in front of me. His hair is still mussed from sleep, stubble making him look rougher around the edges. "Made it strong enough to wake the dead."
"Just how I like it." I inhale the rich aroma, wrapping my hands around the warm ceramic.
Gabriel sits beside me, freshly showered and dressed in his uniform shirt, though he hasn't buttoned it yet. The sight of his bare chest and the dog tags resting against his skin makes my mouth go dry.
"Eat up, Sunshine." Beau slides a plate of perfect pancakes in front of me, his fingers brushing mine in a touch that sends electricity racing up my arm. "You need your strength."
The low and meaningful way he says it, makes me blush despite everything we did last night. Colt catches the exchange and grins like a wolf.
"Damn right she does," he agrees, stealing a piece of bacon from my plate with the audacity of a man who knows he can get away with anything. "Especially if tonight's anything like last night."
"Colt," Gabriel warns, but there's no real heat in it. If anything, he looks pleased.
I watch them move around each other with ease. Beau passing Gabriel the syrup without being asked, Colt automatically refilling everyone's coffee, Gabriel setting out napkins with military precision. These small intimacies speak of something deeper than friendship. They speak of family.
My family.
We eat in comfortable conversation, plans for the day taking shape around bites of pancakes and sips of coffee.
Gabriel has paperwork waiting at the sheriff's station. Colt needs to check on a mare with colic out at the Morrison ranch. Beau has feed deliveries coming and ranch hands to coordinate. I’m going to enjoy a well earned day off.
Normal things. Everyday responsibilities that feel extraordinary because I'm part of them now. Part of their lives in a way I never imagined possible.
If only they knew who they were really sharing their lives with.
One by one, duty calls them away from our perfect morning bubble.
Gabriel is first, buckling on his gun belt with practiced efficiency while I watch from the kitchen doorway. In uniform, he's devastating, all broad shoulders and quiet authority that makes my pulse skip.
"I'll be back around six," he says, crossing to me with purposeful strides. His hands frame my face like I'm something precious and fragile, thumbs tracing my cheekbones with reverent touch. "Think you can stay out of trouble until then?"
"I make no promises," I tell him, earning a low chuckle that vibrates through his chest.
His kiss is soft but claiming, a gentle reminder of who I belong to. When he pulls back, those blue eyes are warm with something that looks dangerously like forever.
"Good girl," he murmurs against my lips, and the praise makes my knees weak. "I'll bring dinner home. Something special."
Home. The word settles in my chest like a warm coal.
Colt's goodbye is hungrier, all teeth and tongue and hands that grip my hips like he's afraid I might disappear. He backs me against the kitchen counter, his body caging me in while he kisses me like he's drowning and I'm air.
"Behave yourself, Shortie," he growls against my mouth, green eyes blazing with possession and promise. "Save some energy for tonight."
"Yes, sir," I breathe, making him groan low in his throat before he forces himself to step back.
"Damn woman." He runs a hand through his messy hair, looking thoroughly wrecked. "You're gonna be the death of me."
"What a way to go," I tease, earning a bark of laughter that transforms his entire face.
Beau's farewell is different, softer but no less intense. He takes his time crossing the kitchen to me, those storm-gray eyes never leaving mine. When he reaches me, his forehead comes to rest against mine, and we just breathe together for a moment.
"Call if you need anything," he says quietly, his hands settling on my waist with gentle possession. "Anything at all, Sunshine."
"I will," I promise, meaning it completely.
His kiss is sweet and thorough, a slow claiming that makes my toes curl against the cool wood floor. When he pulls back, there's something vulnerable in his expression, like he's seeing something in me that scares and amazes him in equal measure.
"You'll be here when I get back?" The question is quiet, almost uncertain, and it breaks my heart a little.
"Where else would I go?" I ask, reaching up to cup his face.
Something eases in his expression, and his smile could power the entire state of Montana.
And then they're gone, leaving me alone in the house with nothing but the lingering scent of their cologne and the ghost of their touches on my skin.
The silence feels different now. Expectant, like the house itself is holding its breath.
Sunlight streams through the windows, dust motes dancing in the golden beams, witness of the most perfect morning of my life.
That's when the weight of what I'm hiding crashes over me like a cold wave.
They're building something real with a ghost. Planning a future with a woman who doesn't exist. They don't even know my real name.
But that's about to change.
I settle at Gabriel's kitchen table with my phone, the same spot where we shared breakfast and promises and perfect, fragile hope. The familiar ritual of checking Craigslist should feel routine by now, but today it feels different.
Today it feels like I'm checking it for the last time.