Chapter 5 Roarke
ROARKE
I’d never smiled this much in my life.
The sun was barely up when I slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Josie. She was curled on her side, dark hair fanned across my pillow, lips parted in sleep. I stood there longer than I should have, just watching her breathe.
Mine.
The word settled in my chest with startling certainty. This woman mattered to me in a way nothing ever had before. I didn’t overthink it. I didn’t question it. I just knew.
But first, I had something to do.
I scrawled a note—Back soon—and left it on the nightstand before heading out into the cold morning air.
The drive to the veterinary trailer took fifteen minutes.
I spent every second thinking about the German Shepherd from the night before—the way he’d pressed against the back of his kennel, afraid to move.
The way Josie had crouched down and talked to him until he trusted her enough to lick her fingers.
I understood that dog. I’d been that dog—bounced from place to place, never staying long enough to trust anyone. Building walls so high no one could get over them.
Josie had climbed mine in a single night.
Maybe it was time I stopped pretending I didn’t need anyone. Maybe it was time I built something that wasn’t just for me.
Rylie was already at the trailer, bleary-eyed but cheerful as she worked through paperwork. “You’re back early,” she said. “Forget something?”
“The Shepherd from last night. Big one. Still here?”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Yeah. You interested?”
“I want to adopt him.”
The words came easily. That surprised me.
Rylie beamed. “Give me a few minutes.”
It took longer than that, but I didn’t mind. I spent the time by the kennel, letting the dog sniff my hand through the bars. He was still wary, still pressed back, but his tail gave a cautious wag when I spoke.
“You and me,” I said quietly. “We’ll figure this out.”
By the time I loaded him into my truck—kennel and all—it had been nearly an hour. Longer than I’d planned. But Josie would understand.
I was bringing a dog home. To share with a woman I’d known less than a day. If someone had told me yesterday that this was where my life was headed, I would’ve laughed.
When I pulled up to the cabin, anticipation hummed under my skin. The Shepherd whimpered softly from the back seat. I reached back and let him sniff my fingers.
“We’re here, buddy. You’re gonna love her.”
The front door was unlocked. I carried the kennel onto the porch and pushed the door open with my shoulder.
“Josie? I’ve got a surprise for—”
I stopped.
She was sitting on the couch, knees pulled to her chest, face buried in her hands. Her shoulders shook.
I set the kennel on the floor before I accidentally dropped it. Then I crossed the room to where she sat.
“Josie.” I dropped to my knees in front of her. “Hey. What happened?”
She looked up, and my heart broke at the sight of her tear-streaked face.
“You left,” she whispered. “I woke up and you were gone.”
“I left a note—”
“I didn’t see it.” Her voice broke. “I just saw the empty bed, and I thought you regretted it. I thought I was too much. That I talked too much. That you couldn’t wait to get away from me.”
Fuck.
I cupped her face, wiping her tears with my thumbs. “Josie. Look at me.”
She met my eyes, fear raw and exposed.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I said firmly. “I’m not wired that way. Last night was the best night of my life, and I woke up knowing exactly what I wanted.”
“What?” she asked, barely breathing.
I glanced toward the kennel, where the Shepherd watched quietly, then looked back at her. “A family,” I said. “With you.”
Her gaze followed mine. Fresh tears spilled—but this time, she smiled.
“You adopted him?”
“I did.” My throat tightened. “I spent my childhood getting passed around—foster homes, group homes. I told myself I didn’t need anyone. That being alone was easier.”
“Roarke…”
“I was wrong.” I rested my forehead against hers. “I’ve lived alone for twelve years. One night with you showed me everything I was missing.”
She gave a shaky laugh. “We’ve known each other less than a day.”
“I know. I know this sounds crazy.” I pulled back just enough to look at her. “I’m not asking for forever. Not yet. Just…stay a few days. Let’s see what this is.”
“I have class. Responsibilities.”
“I know. Hartsville’s close. I’m not asking you to give up your life.” I brushed her hair back gently. “Just let me be part of it.”
She was quiet. Behind us, the Shepherd let out a soft whine.
Josie smiled. Really smiled.
“What are we going to name him?” she asked.
Relief hit me so hard, I almost laughed. “Whatever you want.”
She looked at the dog, who’d finally edged to the front of the kennel. “How about Lucky?”
“Lucky?”
“I panicked, blocked your driveway, and somehow ended up with the best night of my life and a dog.” She touched my face. “That feels like luck to me.”
I kissed her palm. “Lucky it is.”
She kissed me then—soft, sweet, tasting faintly of tears.
“I don’t believe in coincidences,” she said. “I believe things happen for a reason.”
“And this?”
“I think I was meant to find you.” Her smile widened. “Both of you.”
Together, we opened the kennel and coaxed Lucky out. He hesitated only a moment before walking straight to Josie.
Watching them, I saw the future clearly—quiet mornings in this cabin, evenings built piece by piece, a life I didn’t have to face alone.
I’d spent twelve years convincing myself I didn’t need anyone.
Turns out, I just needed her.