Page 213 of Ride the Sky

My fierce, beautiful girl. I’ll never stop being in awe of her. Everything she’s done. How far she’s come. How much she fought.

She saved herself. She saved me.

We came fucking close. No mistake about that. And I will never, ever take her for granted. All that matters is her.

“I love you, Fallon.”

Her eyes soften and then flood with tears. “I love you, too.”

The fucking sweetest words I’ve ever heard.

With shaking hands, I cup her face and crush my lips to hers. I drink in her kiss, letting it seep through me. Letting it erase that fucked-up part of tonight that almost took her from me.

We separate with a gasp.

Fallon grabs the front of my shirt, yanks me against her. “I need you. Don’t let me go.”

“Never,” I rasp, holding her tight. The feeling’s mutual. After being separated from her, enduring the absolute fucking worst thing, I can’t let her go. I won’t.

We stand there in the silence of the morning, wrapped up in each other, watching the sun come up.

Fallon’s voice is muffled. “Wyatt?”

“What, baby?”

She looks up at me. “You think my nine lives are up?”

“Nah, Trouble.” Grinning, I sweep a kiss over her lips. “I think they’re just getting started.”

Ilean in the doorway, watching Wyatt make the bed.Ourbed.

The sheet billows into the air then is snapped crisply on top of the mattress. While Wyatt works, I drink him in. Bare-chested and tan. The lean muscles of his back ripple as he smooths a hand over the sheets. Gray sweatpants sit low on the V of his hips.

I’m one damn lucky woman.

The floor creaks as I use my cane to limp his way. “I like this look on you. Sexy bed-maker.”

Hearing me, he glances over his shoulder, makes a face at my cane. “It’s fuckin’ insane you kept that.”

I give him a flat look then glance down. “She’s trusty as fuck. You think I’m getting rid of her?”

His face clouds, and I silently curse myself for bringing it up.

He hasn’t been the same since that night. Always watching me too closely, with so much worry it hurts my heart.

“I’m sorry.” I palm his stubbled cheek, whisk my fingers over the week-old growth. “Wy, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Wyatt’s blue eyes break from mine, and he blows out a long breath. “It’s been a bitch to get over.”

It has.

But we’re on the mend. Wyatt and I were both cleared at our last doctor’s appointments. He’s had headaches for a week, and my nightmares have now morphed from Aiden to Tripp.

It was Tripp who drugged the drinks at the arcade. He had been slowly stealing from Zeke’s Hardware to carry out his master plan. In his twisted brain, Tripp created this whole world where it was just me and him. He saw trying to take care of me as the ultimate expression of his love.

“You’re okay, and I’m okay,” I remind him. “And we’ll be fucking okay.”

Wyatt chuckles. “Wise words.”

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