Page 31 of Devlin (Lighthouse Security Investigations Montana #4)

“You go, girl.” He smirked. “And remember, if anyone gives you a problem, they have to deal with me first.”

She slowed again, and this time, there was no teasing in her expression. Her laughter faded, replaced by something quieter, more introspective. He felt the shift in the air and sensed something important coming before she spoke.

Mia reached out, taking his hand between both of hers, cradling it against her chest. The heat of her palms seeped into his skin, but it was the emotion in her eyes that truly made his breath catch.

“You will never know how much that single act meant to me.”

His chest tightened. “Oh, my Mia. You’ve thanked me many times while we were together for that.”

She shook her head slowly, her grip tightening around his hand. “Yes, but I was younger. Still in school, then in college. But now that I’ve been out in the world, seen the best and worst in people, that single act stands out in my mind.”

Devlin barely breathed as he stared down at her, struck by the quiet honesty in her words. He had always known Mia was strong, but in moments like this, he realized just how deeply that strength ran.

“To this day, I can still remember looking at the back of you in your larger-than-life football uniform and pads, standing between me and the two policemen and Principal Martin.

And you told them they couldn't lay a hand on me without going through you.” Her voice wavered, but she kept going.

“And I can still see your name on the back of your jersey. Devlin. I had no idea at that moment what we would become.”

She gave a small shrug, still holding his hand. “And maybe to some, they would hear our story, shake their heads, and ask how on earth could I move past what was a betrayal of the heart.”

His stomach clenched at the reminder of the pain he had caused her. He had no defense for it, no way to erase what had happened. He could only accept it, own it, and hopefully have them move forward together.

He exhaled slowly. “Even though I'm more grateful than you can imagine, for the past twenty-four hours, I've wondered the same thing. How you can move past the hurt.”

“Because when I lay in bed last night, I did think about things, Devlin.” She blinked back tears as she slowly shook her head. “And what I kept remembering was seeing you standing between me and danger.”

A lump formed in his throat.

She inhaled deeply before finishing, her voice barely above a whisper. “And even though you didn’t know it was me when you came here, you're still standing between me and danger.”

Devlin's breath hitched.

He had no words for that, no way to express how much her trust meant to him, how fiercely he wanted to keep it. But as she stood there, looking at him with that unwavering honesty, he knew one thing for certain.

No matter what happened next, he would not fail her again.

Devlin no longer cared who was watching or what whispers might follow.

Wrapping his free arm around Mia’s shoulders, he pulled her close, and without hesitation, she melted into his embrace.

Her hands loosened their grip on his, allowing them to hold each other tightly, as if letting go would shatter the fragile shift between them.

Her cheek rested against his chest, right over his heartbeat, her head tucked beneath his chin.

She fit there. She had always fit there.

And here, in the middle of a world filled with poverty, want, and need, something between them changed.

It wasn’t a rekindling of the past. It was something new. A beginning.

He could have stood like that forever, content to simply hold her and pretend for a little while that nothing else existed beyond this moment. But he had something important for her and didn’t want to give it to her in public.

He loosened his hold reluctantly but didn’t let her go completely. Keeping one arm securely around her waist, he guided her back toward the staff quarters.

When they reached her door, she turned, searching his face. “You want to come in?”

His answer came without hesitation. “I don't want to be anywhere else but where you are.”

Her lips curved slightly as her gaze held his. That tiny smile was a light in a place inside him that had been dark for ten years. He had spent a decade convincing himself he didn’t need it, but she made him realize just how wrong he’d been with one simple expression.

Inside her room, he reached into his pocket, fingers closing around the small object he’d kept there for the last few hours. When he pulled it out, the silver charm caught the dim light, the sturdy chain pooling in his palm. The tiny lighthouse gleamed.

“I want you to wear this at all times,” he said, his tone unyielding. “Day and night. Don't take it off.”

A teasing glint appeared in her eyes. “It’s a little early in our burgeoning friendship for jewelry, don’t you think?”

“This isn't just any necklace,” he countered. He let the weight of his words settle before continuing. “There's a tracer inside. That means I can find you anywhere you might go.”

As he held her gaze, he saw the moment she understood. The amusement faded from her features, replaced by something more serious.

“You think I'm in danger, even if you’re here.”

“We're narrowing down who might be heading up the smuggling ring,” he admitted. “I'm not going to take a chance. So as long as you have this, I'll know where you are and can get to you.”

Mia gave a slow nod, then lifted her hair as he fastened the clasp at the nape of her neck. The chain settled against her skin, and she immediately curled her fingers around the tiny charm before slipping it beneath her shirt.

Then without a word, she stepped forward, resting her forehead against his chest. A heavy sigh shuddered from her, and he slid his hands down her back, holding her there.

He was caught between two warring emotions—thrilled that fate had led them back to each other and tortured by the knowledge that she was now in danger. He would always stand between Mia and whatever threatened her, but the problem was, right now, he didn’t know who the threat was.

When she looked up at him, he slid his hands to cup her cheeks, thumbs tracing the soft skin beneath her eyes. He bent slowly, giving her every chance to stop him, to pull away.

She didn’t. Instead, she rose onto her toes and met him halfway.

The moment their lips touched, it was as though time collapsed, the years apart dissolving in an instant. It wasn’t tentative or uncertain—it was rediscovery, a surge of everything they had been and everything they could be.

He started slow, savoring her, but the instant her fingers curled into his shirt, pulling him closer, restraint shattered.

A low groan rumbled in his chest as he wrapped his arms fully around her, molding her against him.

He deepened the kiss, angling his head to claim more of her, to taste what he had been missing for far too long.

They shifted at the same time, bodies tangling until they tumbled onto the small bed. A lesser frame would have given under the sudden weight, but the military-grade metal held firm.

Fully clothed, they pressed together, lips moving in a desperate, aching rhythm.

Mia’s breath was warm against his skin, her body soft where his was hard.

He was aware of everything—the way her hands gripped his shoulders, the way her leg slid against his, the way his arousal pressed insistently against her belly.

Then she moaned, and it nearly broke him.

He wanted her more than he had ever wanted anything in his life. But he knew they weren’t going to have sex tonight. Not because he didn’t crave it—because he did, with a need so fierce it burned through him—but because this moment deserved more than urgency. It deserved patience.

He wasn’t going to rush this. He wasn’t going to let the weight of the past dictate the choices of the present.

Most of the women he had been with in the past decade had been fleeting. Kisses were just a means to an end, foreplay for something without meaning. But this? This kiss was different. This was an offering, an unspoken promise, a piece of himself that he was handing back to her.

He had no idea how long they stayed like that, lost in each other, before reason finally clawed its way back to the surface. With a groan, he pulled away, pressing his forehead against hers as he tried to catch his breath.

She winced and shook her head. “Maybe I’m crazy.”

He waited as she lifted her gaze to him. “Why? What makes you say that?”

Shaking her head, a little snort escaped. “I’m well aware that you have no idea what a groveling romance book is, but I feel like I’m in one and skipped ahead a few chapters.”

He blinked, keeping his arms around her but wondering what the hell she was talking about. “I’m going to need you to spell it out, Mia.”

Her lips rolled between her teeth as she inhaled deeply. Letting the air out, she said, “In some stories, the guy does something really bad like cheats or maybe just really stupid?—”

“Like me,” he said with a sigh.

Nodding slowly, she agreed. “Yeah, like you.” She shrugged after another sigh. “A long period of groveling is usually what the woman has the guy do… Readers get pissed if she forgives the guy too soon.”

“So if the guy has spent years being miserable without her but finally connected again and will do anything to have the woman forgive and give him another chance to be in her life… it’s not real unless a long groveling occurs?”

She pressed her lips together again. “When you put it like that, a long groveling seems unnecessary, doesn’t it?”

“All I know is that this is our story. We do what is right for us . And I don’t give a shit what anyone else thinks.

They don’t know that you’re one of the most giving people in the world.

They don’t know that I have groveled inside every day we’ve been separated.

And they don’t know that we are now who we need to be for us to come together again. ”

“I know it’s crazy, but I really want to ask you to stay,” she murmured, her gaze dropping to their still-clasped hands.

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair before shaking his head. “It’s killing me, but I’m not going to.”

She didn’t argue. She simply studied him, her expression unreadable.

He bent again, pressing his forehead to hers. They stayed like that, breathing each other in, before he leaned back and met her eyes.

“I want us to be sure,” he told her, his voice rough with emotion. “I know I am, but I want to make sure you have time to make the right decision for you. Because, my Mia, when I have you again, I will never give you up and never let you go.”

They stood, hands still linked, and walked to her door together. At the threshold, she turned, and he pulled her close one last time.

Her lips parted slightly, and then, with infinite tenderness, she reached up, cupping his cheek, her fingers threading lightly through his beard. Their lips met again, and this kiss was different. It wasn’t goodbye. It wasn’t even good night. It was a beginning.