Page 41

We all laughed and hugged. Something about seeing the mural, the way people lingered to take it in, and about this day brought everything full circle for all of us.

Later that evening,the sky turned soft for the sunset as we returned to the camper. The memorial was gratifying, good to see everyone, but it was just me and Lacey. The way I liked it.

She came out of the tiny camper bathroom wearing one of my softest T-shirts—threadbare from years of firehouse laundry machines, loose enough to hang mid-thigh.

“You sure know how to fill out a plain ol’ shirt, sweetheart.”

She rolled her eyes, but her lips curved. “You always know what to say to a girl who’s emotionally spent.”

I stepped forward and pulled her close. “I know how to say it without words, too.”

Her arms looped around my neck, and I took her mouth in a kiss that was slow. No rush. Plenty of heat.

Her fingers slipped beneath my shirt and tugged it upward. I let her take it off, and then she reached for my belt. The way her touch lingered, slow and sure, told me she didn’t just want comfort—she wanted connection.

We stumbled back toward the narrow bunkbed, a mess of laughter and kisses and tangled limbs. The camper creaked with every move.

I laid her back against the pillows, slid the shirt up her body. She was nothing but soft curves and golden skin in the glow of the bedside lamp.

“Lace,” I said, cupping her cheek. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

She swallowed hard, eyes shining. “Today was a lot. Make me forget everything but us.”

I did.

With my mouth and my hands, I worshipped her until she was arching beneath me, gasping my name.

When I slid inside of her, she wrapped her legs around me and whispered, “Don’t ever leave me. Remember, you promised to be safe.”

I knew where this was coming from. I returned to work a shift tomorrow. The first one since we became “a thing.”

I vowed with my kisses like words into her skin that I’d do my duty, but always put her first.

We moved together slowly, our bodies already knowing the rhythm, the right pace, the perfect connection. We’d been together a week, but it already felt like a lifetime with her.

After, as she lay curled on top of me, her ear resting over my heart, the only way we could fit together in the bunk, she murmured, “Today was hard. But healing at the same time.”

I kissed her temple. “Good. Because I plan on giving you a thousand easy days after this one.”

And I meant every word.

EPILOGUE

One Month Later

There’ssomething about a summer wedding by the lake that feels like a scene stolen from a dream—sunlight sparkling off the water, chairs lined up in neat rows across the grass, and an arch of wildflowers bursting with whites and yellows and bright pinks like something from a magazine.

But none of it compared to the man standing under that arch. My Hudson.

He stood tall as the best man beside his brother, in a line of Goodson brothers, all dressed in faded jeans, black boots, white button-downs, and matching vests that made them look like the world’s most ruggedly sexy wedding party. Hudson’s sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and even from my seat in the front row, I could see his veins and muscles. I shifted discreetly in my seat.

Next to me, Mama sniffled, already on her second tissue. Hudson caught her eye first and gave her that sideways grin that always made her heart melt. Then his gaze shifted to me—I forgot how to breathe.

That grin widened when our eyes met. Something in his expression changed. Lately he’d been softer, introspective. I’ve asked him what’s going on, but he kept saying I’ll know soon.

I had a feeling I knew what he planned for us. Things moved fast in Hudson’s world once he finally got what and who he wanted.

We’d lived in the camper all summer for privacy—first by the lake, then parked in Mama’s driveway to make room for today’s celebration. Even in the tight quarters, we’d made our own little sanctuary. Shared coffee, shared showers, shared more than a few kisses in the early morning before anyone else was awake.