Page 121 of Forget-Me-Nots and Apricots

"Thank you," I said softly. "Not just for the coffee. For everything." I gestured vaguely, encompassing the safe house, the protection, the care they'd all shown. "For keeping me alive."

Dakota's dark eyes held mine. "You don't need to thank me for that."

"I know. But I want to," I replied, leaning slightly closer to his warmth. "You all put yourselves in danger for me. That means something."

Dakota's expression remained serious, though something softened in his dark eyes. "Protection isn't just physical," he said after a moment. "It's about creating safety in all ways. Making you feel secure even when the world isn't."

His words touched something deep inside me. In the short time I'd known these four Alphas, they had each, in their own way, made me feel safer than I had in years—not just from external threats, but from the constant vigilance, the perpetual fear I'd lived with since escaping my ex.

"You do," I admitted softly. "Make me feel secure. All of you." I hesitated, then added, "Even when everything is falling apart."

Dakota's hand found mine, his touch warm and steady. "Good," he said, giving my hand a squeeze before letting it go. We sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, the quiet punctuated only by the soft sounds of Lucas moving around somewhere in the back of the house. There was something soothing about Dakota's presence—his lack of unnecessary chatter, his solid steadiness. While Gabriel commanded with authority and Theo analyzed with precision, Dakota simply existed—a mountain, immovable and reliable.

"You're staring," he observed, though there was no judgment in his voice.

I smiled, a hint of warmth coloring my cheeks. "Sorry. I was just thinking about how different you all are. How you each make me feel safe in different ways."

Dakota raised an eyebrow slightly, curiosity evident in his expression. "How so?"

I considered this, taking another sip of coffee while organizing my thoughts. "Gabriel is... commanding. His presence alone makes me feel protected. Theo analyzes everything, sees patterns others miss, which is reassuring in its own way." I smiled, thinking of Lucas. "And Lucas lightens everything, makes me laugh even when I'm terrified."

"And me?" Dakota asked, his deep voice quiet.

I met his dark eyes, feeling suddenly shy despite everything we'd been through. "You're... steady. Immovable. Like nothing could ever shake you." I gestured vaguely with my free hand.

"You're like the mountain that doesn't move, no matter how strong the storm." I shrugged, feeling my cheeks warm at the intensity of his gaze. "It's... grounding."

Dakota's expression shifted subtly, something warming in his dark eyes though his face remained serious. "Mountains can be climbed," he said quietly, his deep voice sending a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with fear. I caught my breath at his words, the double meaning clear in the way his eyes held mine. Dakota wasn't one for flowery speeches or playful flirtation like Lucas, but when he did speak, his words carried weight.

"Is that an invitation?" I asked softly, surprising myself with my boldness.

His dark eyes remained steady on mine, intensity building between us. "If you want it to be."

The simple honesty of his response made my heart beat faster. With the others, there had been moments of playfulness with Lucas, analytical precision with Theo, commanding presence with Gabriel. But with Dakota, there was this—straightforward, uncomplicated truth that somehow felt more intimate than any elaborate declaration.

I set my coffee cup down and moved closer to him on the couch, drawn by that quiet intensity. "I do," I whispered, the admission feeling both terrifying and right.

Dakota's eyes darkened, his hand coming up to cup my face with surprising gentleness. For a man so large, so powerful, his touch was feather-light as his thumb traced my cheekbone. He moved slowly, deliberately, giving me every opportunity to pull away if I changed my mind.

I didn't.

Instead, I leaned into his touch, my eyes fluttering closed as his lips found mine. His hand slid to the nape of my neck, fingers tangling in my hair as he drew me closer, his other arm wrapping around my waist with careful strength. I melted against him, my hands finding purchase on his broad shoulders as the kiss deepened. There was something profoundly grounding about his embrace—solid and secure.

When we finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, his dark eyes studied my face with that careful attention that never missed anything. His thumb traced my lower lip, the simple touch sending shivers through me.

“We don’t have to do this now. You did just go through…” He started but I gave him a huff, shifting closer to him.

“Maybe I want a distraction.” I whispered, as I looked at him from under my lashes.

"A distraction can be dangerous," Dakota replied, though his hands didn't move from where they held me. "Emotions are heightened after trauma. It can cloud judgment."

I smiled at his concern, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "My judgment isn't clouded. If anything, nearly dying has made things clearer." I leaned closer, my lips brushing his as I spoke. "Life is too short to hesitate when you know what you want."

Something flared in Dakota's dark eyes—hunger, need, and something deeper that made my breath catch. His restraint was visible in the tension of his shoulders, the careful way he held himself.

"And what do you want, Vivian?" he asked, his deep voice rougher than usual.

"You," I whispered simply. "Right now."

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