Chapter 38 Phoenix
PHOENIX
After the sun rose, we drank coffee together in the living room, facing the deck, thunder growling in the distance and streaks of lightning crawling across the sky.
We didn’t talk much. We didn’t need to. There was a stillness between us, a quiet understanding I hadn’t known I was capable of sharing with another person.
She sat tucked under my arm like she’d always belonged there.
We fit.
We both knew it.
And hell on earth wasn’t taking this away from me.
Rose glanced at the clock then reached over and grabbed my hand.
“I’ve got to get into the shower.”
My brows popped up.
“No.” She laughed. “I mean, I have to actually take a shower. Get ready for the day.”
I looked at the clock—6:47 a.m.
I didn’t want that morning to end. I didn’t want to face reality. I wanted to stay in our little bubble, day after day, and have sex until we both couldn’t walk.
She grinned, reading me like a book. “My first appointment isn’t until nine, but I do have something I have to do before then.”
I raised my hand. “It’s me. I’m the thing.”
She laughed. A beautiful, smooth laugh. Relaxed. “No, not you. If we have sex again, I’m going to need a pair of crutches to make it through the day.”
“I’ll carry you.”
“All day, huh? Carry me around from room to room, to work, to the grocery store.”
“Call in sick to work and I’ll run your errands.”
“No. Theo’s supposed to make a decision on a business proposal I presented to him about the equine therapy clinic. I’d like to hear that answer… at least before he fires me when he finds out that I hooked up with one of my clients.”
“Hooked up?”
“Okay, fine, mind-blowing, best-in-my-life, soul-shattering love making.”
“Can I get that tattooed across your back?”
She smirked, then looked out the window, a sudden worry crossing her face.
I laid my hand over hers. “Hey. We’ll figure this thing out, okay? I won’t be your patient forever. Hope not, anyway.” I winked. She laughed. “One day at a time, okay?”
“One day at a time,” she repeated and nodded, giving me that smile again. A moment passed as she stared at me, then seemed to decide something. “Want to come with me?”
“To work?”
“No. To the thing I have to do before work.”
“Yes,” I said instantly, and it was that moment I realized I’d do anything, whatever, whenever, Rose asked of me.
“Good.” She pushed off the couch. “We’ll leave in thirty minutes.”
“Who takes thirty minutes to get ready?”
She stopped on a dime and spun on her heel—a more dramatic reaction than when I suggested a tattoo. “I do. Longer, even. And I always will. Understood?”
Grinning, I said, “Okay. Noted. Glad we got that established.” I pushed out of the chair and pulled her to me, kissed that nose. “Where are we going?”
“Breakfast.”
As if the morning couldn’t get any better. Wait… yes it could. I followed her into the bathroom.
“Guess I need a shower too, then.”
An hour later, we pulled onto a long driveway that cut between two misty pastures, drenched in early morning rain. Even through the haze, I recognized the place. The same ranch house I’d tracked her to a few nights ago. The house I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about since.
June Massey.
I glanced at Rose. Her smile had bloomed—bright, real, the kind of smile I’d do damn near anything to see again.
“I hope you brought your appetite,” she said. “Park under the oak tree.”
I eased the SUV under the wide-branched tree, rain ticking against the windshield. We'd taken her vehicle, but I’d insisted on driving. She hadn’t argued. That quiet surrender—her letting me take the wheel—meant more than I’d admit out loud. It meant trust. And that meant everything.
She was out of the car before I could kill the engine, bounding up the steps like a kid on Christmas morning.
My chest tightened watching her fall into the arms of a woman wearing khakis, a pale blue sweater, and a pair of trail-worn boots.
This was the woman who'd saved Rose—nursed her out of hell and built her into the warrior she was now. And judging by the steel behind her eyes, June Massey was still every bit the force of nature she must’ve been back then.
Even with her arms around Rose, her eyes locked onto me. Sharp. Calculating. Protective. Like a wolf clocking a threat from fifty yards.
They whispered something to each other—Rose's hand briefly squeezed June’s arm—and then, together, they turned to face me.
I stepped out of the SUV into the light drizzle, but for a second, I couldn’t move. I wasn’t used to feeling... nervous. I’d spent my life walking into rooms that smelled like blood and betrayal, facing enemies without flinching. But this—this was different.
June wasn’t just anyone. She was Rose’s lifeline. An anchor. And now I stood there—bed-headed, slightly bruised, deeply in love, and very aware that she likely knew exactly who I was... and what I'd done the night before.
For the first time in a long time, I shoved my hands into my pockets. I didn’t know what the hell I was walking into.
But for Rose, I’d walk into anything.
“June, meet Phoenix Steele.”
June’s head tilted as she reached out her hand. “Phoenix.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Massey.” I sounded like a high school kid meeting his date’s parents.
“We’ll see about that,” June responded cooly.
Make that very protective parents.
The women turned and walked into the house. My cue to follow, I guess.
My stomach growled as I crossed the threshold.
The scent of sizzling bacon, pancakes, and fresh coffee filled a house that resembled the front page of Southern Living magazine.
Brown leather couches, hardwood floors, candles, hand-crafted knick knacks, a fire crackling in the fireplace.
Dozens of photographs filled the walls, most of horses.
I stopped to look at a few.
“June is an exceptional photographer,” Rose said over my shoulder, the pride evident in her voice.
The home owner laughed at this as she walked into the kitchen. “Come on, now. Show and tell later.”
I followed Rose into the kitchen where June was setting another placemat on the table. I watched Rose work alongside June in a seamless, comfortable rhythm. Yes, Rose had a family. Maybe not in the traditional sense, but the love was the same. It was written all over both women’s faces.
June pulled down a plate and a glass from the cabinet.
I stepped forward. “Here. Let me—”
“No, sir.” June shooed me away. “My kitchen. Sit.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Rose grinned and met me at the table. “No one messes in her kitchen.”
“Not if they want to get asked back again,” June muttered over her shoulder.
“Seriously, sit.” Rose grinned as she sat.
I settled in across from Rose. “You do this every day?”
“Only on Friday mornings.”
“I like to send her into the weekend with a full stomach and cleared head,” June added. “My girl needs to work less and relax more.”
Rose rolled her eyes.
Moments later, a feast was laid in front of me, plates filled with sausage, bacon, blueberry pancakes, and fresh fruit. A cup of warm maple syrup was set next to a carafe of piping hot coffee.
I reached for the carafe. June slapped my hand away, picked it up and filled my cup. “I come from a time when women still serve men,” she slid me a look, “as long as they’re worthy enough. And I always serve in my own kitchen.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
And serve me she did. I couldn’t see the edge of my plate by the time June took her seat at the head of the table, with a cup of coffee and plate of fruit.
She eyed me as I took my first bite, reminding me of Rose when she’d served me lasagna the evening before. Yes, family. And much like Rose, June was one hell of a cook. Warm, fluffy pancakes with a hint of vanilla against cinnamon blueberry. Best flapjacks I’d ever had.
Mouth full, I looked up and realized Rose was watching me, too.
“It’s good,” I forced out between the mouthful.
Both women smiled, then, satisfied with my reaction, turned their focus onto their own plates.
“So, Phoenix, how did you and Rose meet?”
The sausage went down my throat like a bowling ball. I wiped my mouth, sipped coffee, and squared my shoulders.
“Actually… I’m one of her patients.”
“Are you now?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I steeled myself for the question of why I was seeking therapy. Instead, I got—
“Gettin’ anything out of it?”
I looked at Rose, eyeing me over the rim of her coffee.
“Well, if feeling like I’m standing stark raving naked in the middle of Times Square after leaving her office means I’m getting something out of it, then yes.”
June grinned. “That’s good. Growth and comfort do not coexist. Remember that.”
“If that’s the truth. I should be healed.”
June’s head angled to the side. “Does Rose makes you uncomfortable?”
“Yes. In a good way, though, I’m coming to understand.”
“Says a lot for a former Marine.”
“War I could handle.”
“Being stripped of your armor, you can’t.”
“Rose is the first to do it.”
“She’ll be the last.”
I met Rose’s gaze across the table, where she’d set down her fork. A smile crossed my lips. June was right. Rose would be the last.
A moment slid by as Rose and I smiled at each other.
June clapped her hands, grinning now, too. “Alright then, now that we got that out of the way, tell me Rose, anything new on EAT?”
“What’s EAT?” I asked.