Page 62 of Devlin

Mia leaned back slightly, her gaze searching his. Then, with quiet hesitation, she finally admitted, “Each of these offers that I’ve considered includes reservations in Montana.”

Devlin’s breath hitched, his chest tightening at her words.

“They also include opportunities in other states,” she added quickly, “but… I didn’t want you to think I was chasing you. Or trying to force my way back into your life. Or taking advantage of this… this… whatever this is between us.”

Devlin’s grip on her tightened, his expression firm. “Mia, I’d never think that.” His voice was rough with emotion. “Because it’s not taking advantage of anything. You didn’t even need to show me the dates on those emails. I wouldn’t care if you’d only started looking last night. But the fact that you considered jobs that could bring you closer to me? That’s just another example of serendipity.”

She searched his face, uncertainty flickering in her deep brown eyes. “Do you really think so?” she whispered. “Because as much as it pains me to admit… if you hadn’t pushed me away back then, I would have always wondered what was out here for me.”

Devlin swallowed hard, his hands sliding down her arms, anchoring her to him. “It kills me to know I caused that pain,” he said honestly. “But I had to set you free. And yeah, the way I did it was fucked. I tore us apart in the worst way. And I’ll always regret that.” He cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing along her skin. “But we’ve already realized that we needed that time apart. We had to grow, to figure out who we were. And now?” His lips curved slightly. “Now, this just proves that our lives are realigning.”

Mia’s lips twitched, her chin lifting slightly. “What makes you think I want us to be together?”

He grinned, leaning in slowly, his breath fanning across her lips. “Because if you didn’t…” His lips brushed hers, the contactsending electric currents through him. “Then you would have stopped me by now.”

She didn’t. Instead, she melted into him.

Devlin deepened the kiss, pouring every ounce of emotion into it. He held her close, feeling the shape of her, the warmth of her. Everything about Mia was familiar, yet new. She was the past, the present, and—if he had anything to say about it—the future.

When they finally broke apart, he didn’t pull away completely. He needed to see her face, to read her expression. And what he saw made his chest tighten.

No words were necessary. The emotion in her eyes said everything.

He kissed her again, slower this time, savoring the feel of her. His hands slid up her back, his fingers memorizing the curve of her spine. When he finally lifted his mouth from hers, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, breathing her in.

“So there’s no misunderstanding,” he murmured against her skin. “We owe it to ourselves to see what’s ahead. We had a past, and it was incredible. And now? Now, we’ve grown into who we are today. But I don’t believe our story is over, Mia. I won’t walk away again. I want you to take the job that’s best for you. If that means coming back here, going to another camp, or staying in the States—even somewhere close to Montana…” He tightened his hold. “We will make it work. We will work.”

She stared up at him, her lips curving slowly into a beaming smile. “I think I’ll email them back and find out what positions are in Montana. I won’t make any promises?—”

“I don’t expect any,” he rushed to say.

She nodded slowly, still holding his gaze. “But I have no particular desire to go to a specific place. Arizona and New Mexico are beautiful, but I’d rather visit and not live there. Same for the South. I considered Kansas, simply because that’s closeto my parents. But the offers in the north, near Canada, were of interest to me even before we met again.”

Devlin felt like he was waking from a long dream—a dream where he had been searching for light, always reaching but never quite touching it.

She leaned her head back once more, and whispered, “Can you stay tonight?”

Now, holding Mia in his arms, he grinned. “Oh, yeah.” He lowered his head to kiss her again. He had found the light. And he wasn’t letting go.

25

Mia was so lost in the kiss that she didn't care if she never came up for air, or food, or sleep. Every need her body required could be found in his arms. She would breathe his air, feast upon his mouth, and rest with her body sated by him.

Her hands slid beneath the hem of his shirt, fingers splaying over his warm skin as she tugged it free from his waistband and pushed it upward. The fabric bunched against his arms, and she let out a small, impatient sound.

Devlin stilled, his mouth hovering over hers, his breath warm against her lips. Then with an easy shift, he reached behind his neck, grasped his shirt, and pulled it over his head in one fluid motion. The discarded fabric hit the floor at their feet, forgotten the moment her hands explored the hard planes of his chest.

He was a big man—not sculpted like an airbrushed model’s photograph but powerfully carved from years of discipline and hard work. There was strength in his frame, a steadiness in the way he held himself, a quiet confidence that made her knees weak. His body bore the marks of his life. She spied the small scar on his chin from the dirt bike accident he had when he was still in high school. And now, the raised scar on his upper chest from the enemy fire he’d nearly died from. She placed a light kisson the puckered skin, wanting to memorize the place where she now knew had changed his life.

She gazed at the tattoos etched over muscle, stories inked into his skin. Her fingers traced over the new designs, lingering on the lighthouse that stretched across his shoulder, the symbol mirroring the one on the necklace he had given her. The sight sent a wave of emotion crashing through her.

His fingers worked the buttons of her shirt with deliberate slowness, and she clung to his arms, breath catching as the fabric parted. When his fingertip skimmed along the lace of her bra, following the curve of her breasts, she shivered in anticipation. Her arms dropped, letting him slide the shirt from her shoulders, the material slipping down her arms to join his on the floor.

His hands spanned her waist, his touch reverent, but his restraint seemed to flee. With a deft flick, he unsnapped her bra, baring her to him. His gaze raked over her, darkened with something primal, something possessive. His hands followed his eyes, cupping her breasts, thumbs brushing over taut peaks, drawing a gasp from her parted lips.

She wanted to close her eyes, to drown in the sensation of his touch, but she refused to look away. Not after ten years. Not when she had spent so long dreaming of this moment, aching for it. She needed to see him—needed to memorize every flicker of emotion across his face, every shift in his expression that told her this was real.

His chest rose on a sharp inhale, his pupils wide, his nostrils flaring as if he were struggling to control himself. His voice was raw. “You are the most beautiful woman I've ever known.”

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