Chapter 14 #2
"I don't know how to thank you," Liv said quietly. "Any of you. You could have turned me away, told me my problems were too big, too dangerous."
"That’s not our style," Heather said gently. "You ought to know that by now. Besides, we’re kind of crazy about you."
"I've never had that before." Liv's voice cracked. "My parents, they had expectations and conditions and rules. But this? Just...choosing to love someone? Choosing to stand with them even when it's hard?" She wiped at her eyes. "I didn't know that was real."
"Well, you do now." Heather squeezed her hand. "You're stuck with us, city girl. If you want to be, that is. No take-backs."
They sat in comfortable silence, watching Charlotte chase chickens in the yard, the child's laughter bright and clear in the morning air.
"Mike's in love with you," Heather said carefully. "You know that, right?"
"Yeah." Liv smiled despite her tears. "I know."
"You love him back?"
"So much it scares me."
"Good." Heather's smile was warm. "That's how you know it's real."
By mid-morning, Joe had everything arranged.
Federal attorney on video call. Court reporter. Secure encrypted connection. All the official machinery of justice grinding into motion.
Liv sat in Joe's office with Mike beside her, his hand wrapped around hers like an anchor. The attorney appeared on screen, a woman in her fifties with kind eyes and the no-nonsense demeanor of someone who'd spent decades putting bad people away.
"Ms. Langford, I'm Assistant US Attorney Rebecca Chen. I'll be prosecuting the case against Damian Russo. I know you’ve been through a lot and that you’ve already given your statement more than once, so thank you for agreeing to this deposition."
"Thank you for..." Liv trailed off. For what? For believing her? For protecting her? For making sure the man who'd haunted her nightmares would never hurt anyone again?
Attorney Chen seemed to understand. "You're very brave. What you witnessed, what you've endured, the courage it took to come forward. That matters."
For the next hour, Liv gave her statement. Again. Factual. Clear. Unflinching. She described the catering event, the VIP room, the moment she'd walked in to refresh the champagne and seen Damian Russo pull a trigger.
Her voice stayed steady, but Mike felt her hand trembling in his. She described the blood—arterial spray on marble, pooling between floor tiles, the way it had looked almost black in the low light. Described the sound the body made when it fell. The smell of gunpowder and expensive cologne.
Details she'd been carrying alone for months.
Mike wanted to stop the recording, pull her into his arms, tell them she'd given enough. But he knew better. This testimony was her weapon. The only way to make sure Russo never walked free.
So he held her hand and silently promised himself that if she’d let him, he would spend the rest of his life making sure she never had to be that alone again.
She described running. The months of fear. The decision to come to Texas. Everything.
Mike's hand never left hers.
When it was done, Attorney Chen leaned forward. "Ms. Langford, are you willing to testify in court if needed?"
"Yes. I absolutely am."
"Understood. We'll be in touch." Attorney Chen's expression shifted, became almost satisfied.
"I should mention that Russo's legal team tried to negotiate a plea deal this morning.
Offered to plead guilty to manslaughter in exchange for fifteen years.
We refused. Your testimony makes our case airtight, Ms. Langford.
He's going away for life, and there's nothing his lawyers can do about it.
His entire organized crime syndicate has collapsed. "
Liv's breath caught. "It's really over."
"It's really over. For what it's worth, you're free. Mr. Russo will never threaten you or anyone else again. You get to live your life now. Live well."
The screen went dark.
Mike pulled her into his arms, and she buried her face in his shoulder.
She was free. Free to make whatever choice her heart desired, live whatever life she chose. And her heart chose this man, this sexy, amazing cowboy chef who made her feel invincible and incredibly loved.
Now she just needed some time alone with him. To make sure this burning desire, this choice, wasn’t one-sided. She thought she knew the answer. But she needed the words.
Neighbors stopped by throughout the afternoon. Not because they'd been called, but because this was what community did. When one of their own had been in danger, when the crisis had passed, you showed up. You brought food. You offered quiet support.
When the crowd had thinned and the house had settled into a comfortable quiet, Mike went in search of Liv, found her in the kitchen putting away the last of the casseroles.
He needed some answers. He wanted her to stay, wanted to make her his in every sense of the word.
And he was pretty sure she wanted that as well.
But now that her safety wasn’t an issue, would she change her mind?
She had family, friends and a business back in New York.
He slid his arms around her from behind. "Hey," he said softly.
She turned, a smile lighting her whole face. "Hey yourself."
"Want to get out of here for a bit? Just us?"
"I thought you’d never ask."
They walked in comfortable silence, following the path that led away from the main house toward the old section of the property where the original homestead had stood. Nothing remained now except crumbling stone foundations and wildflowers reclaiming what humans had built.
The late afternoon sun turned everything golden. Mesquite trees cast long shadows. Somewhere a meadowlark sang. The air smelled like earth and growth and the particular sweetness of Texas wildflowers, the bluebonnets and Indian paintbrush and wine cups blooming in riotous color.
Words kept flipping through Mike’s brain. Questions. A plea. Sweat beaded his forehead and he thought his heart might pound out of his chest. He cursed under his breath.
"What?" Liv asked.
"I had this whole thing planned. Was gonna bring you out here at sunset, had the words all rehearsed..." He scrubbed a hand over his face. "Now I can't remember a damn thing except that I love you and I want to keep you."
"No need for fancy words. I want you to keep me, too.”
“You do? I understand you have a whole other life that I know nothing about, but I think we can figure that out. Hang on." He pulled a wooden box from his pocket with hands that weren't quite steady. "Let me at least do this part right."
She turned to face him, and the late sun caught in her hair, made her look golden and alive and absolutely beautiful.
He opened the box, revealing the ring he'd spent three nights carving in the barn when he should've been sleeping.
Her eyes went wide. "Oh, Mike."
The ring caught the late sun, simple mesquite wood, sanded smooth, the grain running like rivers of honey and amber.
"I made this," he said, and his voice had gone rough.
"Took me three tries to get it right. Kept sanding through the band on the first one, burned the second with the finish.
This one..." He turned it in his fingers.
"This one's from the old mesquite behind the barn.
The one where Charlotte likes to climb and you sit reading to her on Sunday afternoons. "
Liv's vision blurred.
"I'm not a fancy man, Liv. I don't have a big speech prepared.
But I know what I want. I want slow mornings with too much coffee.
I want kids and animals running around underfoot.
I want trail rides where the only thing chasing us is sunset.
I want to build something real with you. Something that lasts."
He took her hand, felt it trembling in his. "Olivia Langford, will you marry me? Will you stay here, build a life with me, argue with me over biscuit recipes, and let me love you for the rest of my life?"
Tears streamed down her face. "Yes. God, yes."
He slid the ring onto her finger with hands that shook slightly. It settled into place like it had been made for exactly this hand, this moment, this woman. Which, of course, it had been.
Liv stared at it, tears pooling at the corners of her eyes. She turned her hand to watch the way the grain caught the light, how the wood felt warm against her skin like it was alive. Like it remembered the tree it had been, the branches Charlotte climbed, the shade where she'd found peace.
"You made me a ring," she whispered.
"Told you I'd do it right." Mike's thumb brushed her cheekbone, catching tears. "Even if I forgot half my speech and nearly chickened out."
"You didn't forget the important parts." She looked up at him, this man who'd carved her a promise from wood and patience and love. "The 'keep you' part. That's the only part that mattered."
Then she was kissing him, or he was kissing her, and it didn't matter who started it because they were tangled together, hands in hair, bodies pressed from knees to chest, his heart hammering against hers.
The kiss tasted like salt and joy and forever. His hands framed her face like she was precious, breakable, worth cherishing. She pressed closer, wanting to feel every inch of him and felt him smile against her mouth.
When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Mike rested his forehead against hers. “We’ve probably got some details to work out?”
She nodded. “There’s really nothing in New York that I need.
I’ve been gone for nearly three months and haven’t really missed anything.
I will need to return, though, deal with the furniture in my apartment, the equipment in my bakery—assuming any of it is even still there.
For all I know, my landlords have had a liquidation sale. ”
“Well, I hope not. I’m sure you have some valuable belongings.”
“Mike, even if it’s all gone I wouldn’t care. I’ve got everything I could ever need or want right here. With you.”
He kissed her again, a kiss so soft and filled with love she felt as though her heart might actually burst.