Page 57 of Stolen Hearts

“I know.”

They stood like that for a moment, quiet, breathing in sync.

Then she pulled back slightly. “But we’re not going to solve this right now. We’re both too keyed up. And I have a session starting in ten minutes.”

“I thought you told me you don’t really have appointments.”

“I don’t. But Gabe comes in around this time every day after chores.”

Denver nodded, stepping back. “Yeah. Okay.”

Her heart squeezed as she looked at him. “Can we talk more later? When Navy’s asleep?”

He hesitated, then gave her a tired nod. “Yeah. I’ve got a lot of work to do with the security agency if I’m going to be part of it. I’m not sure what will be harder—organizing the office or my brothers.”

She offered him a sympathetic smile.

Needing the contact, he brushed his fingers over her knuckles. “I’ll see you later.”

She walked him to the door and opened it for him. He turned back once before stepping out, eyes searching hers.

“I didn’t mean to mess anything up.”

“Nothing that can’t be remedied with a conversation.” Her voice was gentle. “But youdohave to trust me.”

He gave her a faint smile and left.

The door clicked shut behind him.

Rhae leaned against it, head tilted back, staring at the ceiling. Her chest ached. With love, with frustration, with longing.

This wasn’t just a disagreement or a misunderstanding.

This was the hard part of becoming a family.

It was about making room for each other’s pain, even when it stung.

She glanced down at Navy, who stared up at her with wide, trusting eyes.

“I hope we figure it out, sweet pea,” she whispered.

Because she wanted this life with Denver.

She just needed him to understand that love wasn’t measured by possession—it was measured by presence.

Maybe tonight, after Navy’s bath and bedtime, they could sit down and talk more calmly.

And maybe—just maybe—he’d start to believe that sharing love didn’t mean losing it.

It meant making more.

* * * * *

Denver paused outside Rhae’s office, jaw clenching and unclenching in time with the aching throb of his heart.

He didn’t like how he left things with Rhae and for being so damn possessive of Navy. Hell, he hadn’t even picked her up or kissed her soft, round cheek.

And he’d really fucked things up for Dutch. Denver was no therapist, but he saw how the man’s face closed off as he walked out.