Page 69 of Leather & Lies

“Just bruised.” I lean into his warmth, and the trembling starts—the kind I usually hide in my truck after a dangerous horse nearly takes me down, the kind I never let anyone see. But Jackson’s arms tighten instantly, one hand cupping the back ofmy neck while the other pulls me closer. His heartbeat is strong and steady against my cheek, anchoring me as the shakes work through my system.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs into my hair, and something breaks loose in my chest. The careful control I’ve maintained since Walsh ran my truck off the road crumbles. I press my face into Jackson’s chest, breathing in leather and cedar and safety as tears dampen his shirt. He doesn’t try to shush me or tell me everything’s okay—he just holds me, letting me process the fear in my own way.

When I finally look up, his eyes hold nothing but fierce tenderness. “I knew you’d come,” I whisper, voice raw. “That you’d find a way to keep an eye on me.”

His body tenses slightly, but he doesn’t look away. “I installed a GPS tracker on your truck.” He swallows hard and presses his lips together before confessing, “I needed to know you were safe.”

I should be angry. Should rage against the invasion of privacy, the continued surveillance. But all I feel is a complicated mix of relief and understanding. I trace the line of his jaw. “You never really stopped protecting me, even when I hated you for it.”

“Never will.” His voice carries an edge of that dangerous possession that used to terrify me. Now it just makes me feel secure.

“Take me home, Jackson.”

His kiss is possession and pride, claiming and cherishing. When he finally pulls back, his eyes are dark with promises. “Always.”

We’re silent, as he drives us home. Jackson’s hand rests on my thigh, thumb tracing comforting circles over the denim. Every touch carries the reminder that I chose this—chose him.

As we pass through the ranch gates, his grip tightens on my thigh. “You know Walsh won’t be the last one to come for you. These debts, the danger—” his voice breaks. “Fuck, Shiloh!”

“I won’t try to handle it alone anymore,” I promise.

Jackson slams on the breaks, the back of the truck sliding out in the dirt, then shifts to face me.

“Promise me, Shiloh. That whatever comes next, we face it together.”

I bite my lip, every cell in my body straining toward him as he leans over the console to cup my cheek, his rough fingers catching in my hair. “Jackson, I need?—”

“As partners. As my wife.”

I choke on nothing at all. “That’s the least romantic marriage proposal I’ve ever heard,” I answer drily, trying to slow my galloping heart.

Jackson gives me a long look, then hops out of the truck, jogging around to yank my door open.

He unbuckles my seatbelt, then swings me around so my legs dangle out the door, before dropping to his knees. He slides off his hat, revealing salt-and-pepper hair, and his ice-blue eyes cut through me as he stares up at me.

This powerful man—made of violence and obsession and cruelty—is on his knees for me. He wraps his fingers around my calves.

“Shiloh Foster, marry me.”

“I was coming back to you,” I whispered. “When they caught me.”

His eyes soften and he drops a kiss against my shin. “I know. But I won’t—” He stops himself. “I want a partner. I wantyouto be my partner.”

Jackson Hawkins—the man who needs to control everything in his empire—offering true partnership. Not just protection. Not possession. Equal ground.

His smile holds equal parts sin and tenderness as he pulls me closer. “What do you say, hellcat? Partners?”

Heat pools low in my belly as he leads me inside. Some men need to break everything they touch. But Jackson? He’s learned to cherish what he possesses.

“Yes.”

28

Jackson

The word hits me hard.For three thundering heartbeats, I can only stare at her—my fierce, untamable Shiloh, finally agreeing to be mine in every way that matters. The sight of her sun-streaked hair falling loose over her shoulders, her chin lifted despite her submission, is so fucking beautiful, dragging me closer, like a moth about to obliterated by a hypnotic flame.

I’ve broken men for profit and pleasure. Built an empire and spilled blood to do it. But this woman—this perfect creature who fought me at every turn—brings me to my knees with a single word.

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