44. Kyle
KYLE
Kyle’s phone had started blowing up the instant he’d stepped into the tent at the bottom of the finish line—where free Wi-Fi kicked in and a hundred notifications hit.
Reporters were asking for a comment on the exclusive news story that had hit the internet on The DC Gazette’s website.
Brand sponsors, answering emails they’d ignored months ago.
Friends. Family. Everyone.
He had no doubt it would get even worse once the interview came out on television tonight.
But he had to give it to Sloan—she’d thought of every detail, including hiring a PI to track down “Tasha” and documenting her story.
Evan Tipton was probably shitting his pants.
Which, frankly, he deserved.
And more.
While Kyle never would have wished hurt on Sloan, as he walked beside her in the snow, away from the chaos of the post-race tent, he was grateful that Evan had been foolish enough to let Sloan get away. She was the bravest, most caring woman he’d ever known.
And I can’t wait to marry her.
“Where are we going?” Sloan asked, tucking against him, holding his hand.
“Not far. Just somewhere secluded.” He gave a dry laugh. “Believe me, the only thing I want right now is a cold plunge, hot shower, massage, and sleep. In that order.”
“I can help with the massage part. Maybe even the shower part, if you’re up for it.” Her eyes gleamed.
“I’m always up for that.”
He led them off the trail, toward the closest cliff, one that looked out over the valley, someplace tall and beautiful, clear, with a vista that went on for miles.
This is a good place. Granny will like it here.
As he stopped, he unstrapped his pack, then slung it down to the ground. He caught the Blue Ridge logo. He’d done it. Earned this.
And even with what Sloan was offering him and the new opportunities on the horizon, he felt a surge of pride in that.
Digging into his pack, he pulled out a box he’d packed.
“What is that?” Sloan asked, her brow furrowing.
“Granny.”
Sloan’s face dawned with understanding. “Oh.” She looked around them. “Can you do that here?”
“I applied for a permit a month ago, so yeah, I can. I should have done this a lot sooner, really. It just took me a while to find the perfect moment and the perfect place. I wasn’t ready to let go, and thankfully, she anticipated that.”
He swallowed hard and opened the box and spoke to it. “I’m scared. I’m tired. You’re right, I don’t know how to be alone with my own heart. And most of all . . .” He struggled for a breath, tears wetting his cheeks. “I miss you. Thank you for always believing in me, even when I lost my footing.”
Then he let the wind do the rest, scattering Granny’s ashes in a cloud that lifted into the air.
He wrapped his arms around his girl, holding her close.
The wind moved through the valley below them, cool and steady, carrying the last traces of dust away into the open blue.
Kyle rested his forehead against Sloan’s, his eyes closed, his hands still trembling just a little. For the first time in longer than he could remember, his shoulders didn’t feel like they were holding up the sky.
“Okay,” he said quietly.
She smiled, soft and real, and squeezed his hands.
Granny was right. All those wrong turns had led him—both of them—to something right.
Breathing slowly, he turned toward Sloan. “Come on. Let’s go. I have it on good authority that our families are waiting to celebrate.”
“I love you, Kyle. You make me happy, you know that?”
“I know. Can’t help it. I’m ridiculously charming, after all.” Then he kissed her once more, his heart full. “I love you too, Sloan Carrington. Always have. No matter how long it took you to find the route back to me.”