Page 33

Cyclone

B y the time we returned to the house, the sun was slipping low over the ocean, painting the sky in streaks of pink and gold.

I should’ve been exhausted — I hadn’t slept much on the road, pushing harder and faster just to get back to her — but the second Jude smiled at me, I felt like I could go another hundred miles.

I watched her kick off her shoes by the door and walk barefoot across the hardwood floor, her hair a wild mess from the ocean breeze.

Beautiful.

Strong.

Mine.

She headed into the kitchen, pulling two beers from the fridge without asking.

Already knowing what I’d want.

Like she’d been here forever.

Like she belonged.

She handed me one and snuggled up next to me on the couch.

“Tell me about the job,” she said, tilting her head, a small smile tugging at her mouth.

I leaned down and kissed her before answering.

“It was clean.

The family needed protection from a psycho ex-business partner. We arrested him as soon as we got all the evidence we needed.

She smiled, proud and fierce.

“You saved them.”

I shrugged, feeling the old, familiar weight settle on my shoulders.

“We did our job.

But the whole time I was out there, all I could think about was getting back here.”

Back to her.

God, I loved her.

I loved every scar, every stubborn wall she tried to hide behind.

I loved how she smiled now; she was less cautious and more real.

I loved the way she fought for her own damn life, even when it would’ve been easier to give up.

“You tell me about your week, sunshine," I said, pulling her across my lap.

She grinned, her whole face lighting up.

“I caught my first case,” she said proudly.

I set my beer down, and turned her to where her knees were on either side of me. I needed my hands free to touch her. I rested them on her thighs, feeling the heat of her skin under my palms.

“I never would have thought otherwise,” I said, voice low.

Her eyes softened, that vulnerable light flashing through them, the one she didn’t let many people see.

I kissed her forehead, then her temple, then the corner of her mouth.

“You know,” I murmured against her skin, “if you keep showing off like this, I'm gonna have to marry you just to keep you from getting hired away by someone else.”

She laughed — that beautiful, soft laugh that broke something wide open in my chest.

“Is that how it works?” she teased, wrapping her arms around my neck.

“You lock me down before the competition steals me?”

“Exactly.”

I kissed her again, longer this time, slower, savoring her.

“You’re mine, Jude. Always will be.”

Her fingers threaded through my hair, tugging just enough to make me groan against her mouth.

I lifted her, carrying her toward the bedroom like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Because with her in my arms...

It was.

She didn’t protest.

She just held onto me, smiling against my throat, her heartbeat pounding against mine.

When I laid her down on the bed, she looked up at me with so much trust, so much love shining in her eyes, it damn near leveled me.

We made love slow that night — no rush, no desperation.

Just touch and whispers and everything we hadn’t said out loud yet.

Promises made skin to skin, heart to heart.

Afterward, tangled together in the dark, I brushed her hair back from her face and kissed her forehead.

She was half-asleep, her body warm and soft against mine.

“I mean it, Jude,” I whispered against her skin.

“I’m gonna marry you someday. As soon as I know you’re ready, I will propose to you.”

She didn’t open her eyes.

She just smiled — a small, secret smile — and tucked herself even closer against me.

And I knew, deep in my bones, that someday wasn’t that far away.