Page 135 of Fixing to Be Mine

“You’re biased.”

“Only when it comes to you.”

The bread is buttery. The cheese is hot enough to sting my tongue. Our knees bump, paper towels under our plates, no background music, no phones. I’m not watching the clock.

When we’re done, he looks toward the porch and then back at me. “You want to sit outside for a bit?”

“Yeah. That would be nice.”

We step out onto the porch and into the deep hush of a Texas night. The swing creaks as we sit, and I pull my knees up beside me, one leg tucked under the other. The breeze is warm, but it carries the edge of fall. Fireflies blink in the field beyond the fence line.

Colt settles in beside me, his fingers brushing my shoulder.

We let the swing rock beneath us in an easy rhythm.

The moon hangs low, casting a pale light over the yard. Somewhere out in the dark, a cricket chirps. A truck roars in the distance.

This is peace.

He presses a kiss to the top of my head.

Something in the way he touches me makes me feel safe and cared for.

I lead him inside and straight to the bedroom. He steps forward; his hands settle lightly on my hips. Mine slides up his chest, and his breath catches under my palms.

“I want you. Now and forever.”

His eyes soften. “Good.”

I rise onto my toes and kiss him. He kisses me back like we’ve been holding our breath since New York and we’re finally letting go.

Clothes come off piece by piece in a feverish blur. Every look he gives me says,I see you, I want you, I love you, and I’m always here.

He lays me down gently, his body covering mine. His mouth trails over my collarbone, my shoulder, the inside of my wrist.

There are no words between us as he enters me. Just the quiet sound of breath, the creak of the bed frame, the weight of everything I’ve carried finally slipping away.

I wrap my arms around him and pull him closer. We move together, like we’re trying to carve out a space that only belongs to us.

When I come undone, it’s with a whimper.

He follows moments later, burying himself deep with a low groan that sounds like relief.

Afterward, he doesn’t pull away. He stays wrapped around me, our legs tangled, my head tucked beneath his chin.

“Welcome home,” he whispers into my hair. “This is where you belong.”

And when I look into his bright blue eyes, I believe it.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

COLT

Stormy’s still asleep when I wake up.

The light hasn’t fully broken through the curtains yet, but the room is tinted in silvery blue that only shows up right before sunrise. I let the weight of her beside me sink in like something holy. Her hair is a dark, tangled mess across my chest, and one of her arms is wrapped around my ribs. Her breathing is even, and her pretty lips are parted just slightly.

I don’t want to move, but I carefully slide out from under her arm and watch as she shifts, curling into the warm spot I left behind. She’s here. Inourbed. Stormy is no longer running.

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