Page 127 of The Fire We Crave

She turns in my arms and looks up at me. Not sure I’ll ever get used to the view. “We’re going to build a good life.”

“Is that a statement or question?”

“Statement,” she says firmly. “I’m feeling brave today.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m going to the bakery this morning because Kinsey needs a hand with some things. Then, Ember and I are gonna drive to that big hardware store down by the highway and have a look at some kitchen designs and paints and things.”

I bite back a grin. She has no idea that it’s all a set up to have her where I want her, when I want her there. I’ve waited until after she’d had the blood tests done to see if she was a match for her niece because it was emotionally weighing on her mind. She wasn’t, but her dad was.

Honestly, it’s the best outcome. Not needing to go through the urgent procedure gives her the time she needs to decide what kind of relationship she wants with her sister going forward, one that isn’t predicated on whether she helps her niece or not.

“Good. We’ll have that place fixed up in no time.” The second alarm on my phone is an annoyance. I set it because I’ve become useless at getting up on the first one when I’m in bed with Quinn. “I really gotta go, sweetheart.” I kiss the top of her head.

I do what I need to get ready, then return to the bedroom. Quinn is still beneath the sheet, but it’s tucked around her in such a way that her form is utterly visible, and it takes everything I am to not crawl back in there with her.

“Here,” I say, handing her my credit card. “Put the paint on this.”

“I don’t need you to pay for the paint, I got it.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You’re gonna take the card, pay for the paint,andorder us a new bed.”

“Or else…?” It’s a challenge. And I can see from the smile on her face that she’s expecting me to suggest something kinky.

“No ‘or else.’ I’m not comfortable extending our power dynamic to finances. Telling you to meet me on your knees when I get home to say thank you for spending my money doesn’t float my boat.”

Quinn smiles at that. “What if I’m just grateful and want to thank you that way?”

I kiss the tip of her nose. “You deciding to be grateful on your own is entirely up to you. But I see it all as ours now anyway. What you’re doing is choosing to spend our money to build a good life for us.”

She flops back onto her pillow. “Sometimes you veer dangerously close to romance hero material.”

“Only for you. Don’t tell anyone else.”

“Be safe.”

“On my honor.”

I ride to the clubhouse and realize my injuries don’t hurt. They’ve healed, and I suppose, in many ways, my mind is gettingthere. I’ve got a woman at home, a new future to build, and work to find.

And a therapist keeping me on the straight and narrow, forcing me to address the hard things. The dark things.

When I arrive at the club, people are already milling about in the parking lot. And when my phone rings, I glance down at it.

Johnny.

And I can tell I’m doing better when I answer it. His name reminds me these were all men and individuals I cared for, not some random men I lost. I was so buried in my own despair, I forgot that, sometimes.

“Johnny,” I say.

“Jesus, Smoke. Thought you were never gonna pick up. Been trying for weeks.”

I take a deep breath and pick at the stitching on the leather seat of my bike. “It’s been a journey since we got back.”

There’s a moment of silence between us. We both know what that means.

“About that…I’m in Denver on Tuesday next week,” he says. “I want to see you. Got some things I need to say in person. Are you around?”

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