22. Mason
Mason
I can’t stop watching her.
I should be up. I should be packing the last of the gear, checking the satellite phone again, preparing for the drive to the small airfield.
Instead I lie here on my side, propped on one elbow, completely still so I don’t wake her.
The quilt has slipped down to her waist, revealing the soft curve of her bare shoulder and the gentle rise and fall of her chest. She’s wearing one of my old t-shirts again, the fabric too big on her small frame, and the sight of her in my clothes does dangerous things to my thoughts.
I’m falling for her. Hard. Faster than I ever thought possible.
I’ve never fallen for a woman in my life.
Not like this. Not in a way that makes my heart feel too big for my ribs and my hands itch to hold her forever.
This is not like me. I’m the man who stays detached.
The marshal who gets the job done and moves on.
But Riley crashed into my world like sunlight breaking through storm clouds, and now I can’t imagine going back to the gray without her.
She stirs slightly in her sleep, a soft sigh escaping her lips.
The sound goes straight through me. I reach out and brush a strand of hair from her face with the back of my fingers, careful not to wake her.
Her skin is warm and smooth under my rough touch.
She leans into it even in sleep, like her body already knows it belongs next to mine.
I shouldn’t feel this way. She’s not mine to keep.
She’s my responsibility. In a few hours a plane will take her to Seattle and then into full WITSEC.
She’ll get a new name, a new life, a new everything.
And I’ll be left here with nothing but memories and the echo of her laughter in this cabin.
The thought lands like a blade, and I have to force myself to breathe through the sudden, sharp ache it leaves behind.
I want to keep her. I want to hole her up here on this mountain and guard her with my life.
I want to wake up every morning to the smell of her baking and fall asleep every night with her curled against my chest. Fuck, I want to be the man who gives her the happy ending she deserves in every romcom she’s ever loved.
But wanting doesn’t change reality. The Moretti family is still out there. They’re closing in. And her safety comes first. Always.
Riley shifts again, rolling toward me in her sleep.
Her hand finds my chest and rests there, fingers curling lightly into my shirt.
The trust in that unconscious movement nearly breaks me.
I cover her hand with mine, feeling the delicate bones and soft skin.
She’s so small compared to me, so fragile in so many ways, yet she has more strength than most people I’ve ever known.
She survived witnessing a murder. She survived running.
She survived me and my rough edges. And still she looks at me like I’m her hero.
I lean down and press a slow kiss to her forehead, breathing her in. Her hair smells like my shampoo and the faint sweetness that’s just her. I let my lips linger there, memorizing the warmth of her skin, the way her breath fans softly against my neck.
The satellite phone on the nightstand lights up with a silent alert. I glance at it. Time’s running out. But I stay right where I am, watching her sleep, letting myself feel every single thing I’ve been trying to push down. The love. The need. The bone-deep certainty that she’s mine.
They’ll have to carry me away from her. Because I’m not leaving her side. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not ever if I can help it.
I pull her closer, tucking her against my chest, and close my eyes for just a moment. The storm outside has gone quiet, but the one in my heart rages on. And for the first time in my life, I don’t want it to stop.
She’s worth every risk. She’s worth everything.
And I’m going to fight like hell to keep her.