Page 80 of Outlaw Ridge: Griff
“Hallie’s okay,” she said before they could ask. “They’re taking her in for a procedure to remove the bullet, but it’s nothing life-threatening. She’s feisty as ever. Already arguing with the nurses.”
Griff exhaled, the tension in his chest easing. “Good.”
“Hallie made us promise to pass along her orders,” Jemma went on. “She wants you two to finish up with Margo. Get her officially locked up.”
Lily gave a wry smile. “That sounds like Hallie.”
Jemma added, “She also said, and I quote, ‘Tell them they’d better not wait around holding hands until the paperwork’s done.’”
Griff chuckled. “We’ll get it done.”
He gave a nod of thanks, and he and Lily headed for the exit. Outside, the cold air hit hard. It cut through his jacket and into his bones, but it felt like exactly what he needed.
They didn’t speak until they were in his truck, doors closed, the silence humming between them. Griff slid the key into the ignition, then looked over at her.
“Ready to put an end to this?” he asked.
Lily buckled in. “Let’s go finish it.”
He pulled out of the lot, headlights cutting through the dark. This time, there were no ambushes, no shadows waiting around the corner.
Just the end of a case that had waited fifteen long years for justice.
The station came into view just after they turned onto Main. Even before Griff pulled in, the strobing lights of fire trucks and cruisers lit up the dark stretch of pavement. The fire department was still on-site, their hoses rolled and packed but crews still lingering, coordinating with the CSIs who were combing over the parking lot.
The antique shop was roped off, yellow crime scene tape fluttering in the wind. So wasStitched in Time.
Too many crime scenes in one day.
Griff parked in front of the station, where the least amount of debris cluttered the ground. He killed the engine, took off his seatbelt, and let his gaze drift toward the chaos behind the barricades. The gunman from the roof had survived, barely, and had already been airlifted to a trauma center in San Antonio. If Margo didn’t give them everything, maybe he would. Assuming he lived long enough.
He looked at Lily beside him.
Exhaustion lined her face, but her eyes still burned with determination. And something else—something that matched the ache building in his chest.
Before he could talk himself out of it, Griff leaned in and kissed her.
Not a quick, careful kiss.
Long. Deep. Hot.
Every ounce of tension, fear, and adrenaline poured into it, into her. She leaned into him, fingers curling into the front of his jacket like she didn’t want it to end.
When he finally pulled back, breath ragged, he kept his forehead against hers. “I just wanted to know what it was like,” he said quietly, “to kiss you when we weren’t running for our lives.”
She drew in a breath, eyes still closed. “So? How was it?”
He smiled, thumb brushing along her jaw. “Best kiss ever.”
Her lips curved, slow and sure. “Agreed.”
He wanted to kiss her again. Hard. Slow. All over again.
But there was still a job to finish.
He pulled back, straightened in his seat, and opened his door. “Let’s go make it official.”
Beside him, Lily opened her door, stepped out, and fell into step at his side.
