Page 112 of Ransom

"That story sounds more interesting," Nick says. "No death, just Juliet beating the shit out of anyone who would keep them apart. Fuck of a lot less depressing, too."

"Maybe Romeo and Juliet would have gotten sick of each other if their parents had just let them be together. Fuckin’ Shakespeare," John says, looking all kinds of grumpy.

"Maybe. But that's not us. Every relationship I've had..." I shake my head. "They all fell short. Because they weren't her."

"But you were so young," Bree protests. "How could you know?—"

"I just did." I meet her eyes. "Some things you just know. Like you and Nick. Like Cara and Declan. It doesn't matter that we were young. I'd been through enough shit in my life and been around enough girls that I understood what we had was special. I looked for that special in every woman I've met since. And I didn't fucking find it. It would have been simpler if I had."

"So you guys never really got a shot,"Micah signs.

"No. We didn't. But maybe now..." Maybe now is our time. Maybe now, she can be mine, and I can be hers. I want that label. I want to be Blair's.

"And Blair?" Cara asks gently. "Does she feel the same?"

"I don't know," I admit. "There's something there, but she just learned last night about her dad’s part in everything. She's got shit to process. And there's other stuff going on in life, other heavy stuff."

"I didn't ask you if it was complicated," she says, arching her brow. "It's always complicated. I asked if she feels the same."

"I don't know," I say again. "That's why I'm here. To see if she might be willing to love me again."

"Oh fuck," Colton says, rubbing his cheek. "You said the L word. This is fucking serious. We have to really meet her. You know that, right? We have to check her out and make sure she's good for you. You did the same thing with all of our women."

"I didn't meet Becca," I say. Admittedly, she's the only one I didn't meet. And I hated that fucking situation. But luckily, I pried information out of Micah, so I could try to figure her out and see if she was good for Kade.

"And that fucking killed you," Colton says. I don't deny it, since… facts.

"We're a fucking lot. Like a lot, a lot. You can't all descend on her. Especially not right now. It's not fair to her." I make eyes with everyone at the table, waiting for a smile or a nod before moving on. They have to get on board. We're doing this my way. I won't risk scaring her off.

"Okay," Cara says, patting my arm. "We won't all descend on her."

"Good. Wait. What do you mean 'all'?"

Cara pats my hand. "Don't worry about it, Boss. We won't chase off your girl." She lets go as plates are put down in front ofus. "Let’s eat. Tell us more about what's going on here. I want to know more about this town and your woman.”

36

BECCA

Holy fucking shit." Kade takes another bite of his peach muffin, crumbs catching on his lip. "This is better than sex."

"Really? You sure about that? Should I just arrange to have muffins delivered from now on, and sleep with panties on?" I nudge him with my elbow, nearly making him drop his precious breakfast. Or second breakfast, to be exact. I excused myself from breakfast this morning. Instead, I took a wander around town. It's cute. Reminds me a little of where I grew up, but cuter. These buildings look vintage.

Kade's eyes widen, trying to decide if I'm serious, I'm sure. Then, in a move guaranteed to make me want to ride him into oblivion tonight, he throws the muffin as far as he can. "They're not that fucking good."

"Oh my god," I say, pressing my face into his chest. "You're ridiculous. And also very adorable." Then, 'cause I'm feeling all kinds of mushy, I lift my own muffin up and let him take a bite. I keep my fingers mostly wrapped around it so he can't snatch it—this ain't my first rodeo—and laugh as his eyes roll back in his head. Then I take another bite.

"These are pretty fucking good."

He grins and tugs me into his side, arm draped over my shoulder. It still makes me all gooey and shit when he does that. I feel womanly and protected, and considering I'm fully capable of kicking his ass, it's a weird but welcome experience. I think it has more to do with feeling emotionally safe, though admittedly I don't worry about walking anywhere when my husband's with me. He's big enough and intimidating enough to make most criminal types think twice. I may be big for a woman, not an easy target, but there's something about boobs that makes bad guys think they can do whatever they want. And avoiding confrontation is pretty much rule number one of any martial art.

"You grew up in a place like this, right?" he asks, licking the sugar off his fingers.

"Mm-hmm. Population two thousand and declining." The familiar sight of locals greeting each other across the street, kids racing their bikes down sidewalks, makes my chest ache. "Every kid in town came through our dojo at some point. Made discipline easier when I could tell their parents exactly what they'd been up to."

"That must have been annoying as fuck."

"Oh, it was, but it's also safe. Everyone knows your business, but everyone looks out for you too. And the bullying wasn't anything like you hear about now. Because word would get back to your parents that you were acting like a fool, and you'd get called out for it." I pause to watch a younger woman sweep in front of the grocery store. "See that," I say, tipping my chin to her, "in the city, that's just about cleaning a mess. In a town like this, it's like a security patrol. She's keeping an eye on what's going on and gathering gossip that she can share."

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