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The silence hung between them like a held breath. Then Billie Ann turned, her gaze drifting to the bar behind her, with its old wood, worn floors, and crooked stools. Her whole chest rose with a deep breath before she looked back at Rafe, something soft and certain blooming behind her eyes.

“This,” she whispered. Then stronger: “I wantthis.” She lifted her arm, sweeping it out toward the bar. “It’s not glamorous. It’s not what I thought I’d end up doing… but it’s real. It’s mine. Being back here is hard without Davey, harder than I ever imagined, but it’s the first time in years I feel like I can actually breathe.”

She stared at the bar, her gaze distant, as if she were seeing ghosts in the grain of the old wood. Rafe didn’t move. He just watched her in the quiet, soaking in the curve of her jaw, the way her shoulders held a weight she hadn’t asked for.

And even though she hadn’t said much, he could feel her unraveling—softly, silently.

“I didn’t realize it until I walked back through those doors,” she said, her voice fragile with emotion. “This is where I belong. I just… I needed to lose everything. To lose the only person who ever really cared for me… to see it.”

The words broke from her like a confession she hadn’t planned to speak aloud. Her eyes left the bar and rose to his, filled with unshed tears and a grief she’d tried too long to carry alone.

Rafe didn’t hesitate.

He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight to his chest. She stiffened for just a moment—just long enough for him to feel how deeply she resisted comfort—but then she melted into him like she’d been waiting for it all along.

His hand slid up to cradle the back of her head, fingers threading through the soft strands of her dark hair. “You didn’t lose the only person who cared for you,” he murmured, his voice low and fierce against her temple. “You’ve got people now. You’ve got me.”

“But you hardly know me,” She whispered, her voice shaking.

“I know enough.” He whispered back.

She trembled in his arms, and he felt her fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt like she needed something or someone to anchor her.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she whispered into his chest. “I’m scared, Rafe.”

“I know,” he said softly, holding her tighter. “It’s okay to have a little bit of fear, but you can do this, Billie Ann.”

She leaned back just enough to look up at him, her eyes glassy, searching his face like she was waiting for him to vanish.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“For what?” he asked, brushing his thumb over her cheek.

“For this,” she said simply. “For being here… for seeing me.”

Rafe’s gaze dropped to her lips, then back to her eyes.

“You make it impossible not to,” he said, and before she could reply, he dipped his head and kissed her, soft and slow, like a promise for things to come.

CHAPTER 10

The moment Rafe’s lips touched hers, Billie Ann’s breath caught in her throat. Her heart didn’t just flutter, it stuttered, as if unsure whether to race forward or stop entirely. His kiss was gentle, unhurried, but there was something deep beneath it.

Her first instinct was to pull away, but not because she didn’t want it. No, it was because shedid.

But then her body leaned in, betraying any hesitation her mind still held. Her fingers gripped the front of his shirt, anchoring herself in the warmth of him. The ache in her chest, the one she’d carried since learning of Davey’s death, eased just enough for her to breathe again.

This shouldn’t be happening.

That was her first clear thought when the kiss broke and Rafe’s forehead rested against hers, his breathing ragged. They’d only just met. It had barely been a few days. But even as that logic echoed in her mind, it couldn’t drown out the memory of Davey’s voice.

“Shifters don’t wastetime when they find their person, baby girl. When it hits, it hits hard and fast—and it’s real. You’ll know when it’s right. You’ll feelit,” he’d said one night after his third beer, wagging a finger like he was passing down sacred knowledge.“If some Shifter comes sniffing around you, don’t panic. They catch feelings fast. Real fast. Like ‘I met you Tuesday, let’s mate for life by Friday’ kind of fast.”

She had rolled her eyes, laughing, thinking it was just another one of Davey’s weird warnings sandwiched between advice on bar fights and how to spot a fake ID.

“I’m serious,”he’d grunted, pushing a handful of peanuts around the counter.“They don’t mess around. One good whiff and boom. So, if some rugged, too-handsome-for-his-own-good Shifter comes around all broody and intense… just, y’know… don’t freak out. Call me first, and if I’m not around, you know where ol’ Clint Blastwood is.”

At the time, it was funny. Now?