"Have we?" Mason looks at me. "We're talking about a mob family, Riot, not some mid-level trafficker. If Reyes decides we're a threat?—"
"Then we deal with it," I interrupt. "Same way we always do."
Jake pulls out Harper’s map, studying the marked locations. "Luke's right. We've been in worse situations. We just need to be smart."
I think about Harper, about the way she looked at me this morning when Turner left. The trust in her eyes. The certainty that I'd protect her.
I will—no matter what it costs.
55
HARPER
The first box I carry into Luke’s room contains socks.
Not clothes or books. Not the framed photo of me and Dad from my police academy graduation that I shoved face down into a drawer this morning because I couldn’t stand to look at it. Just socks.
This is what my life has come to.
I set the box at the foot of Luke’s bed and stare at it. Day three of unemployment. Day three of living at Blackthorn Ranch.
Day one of accidentally moving in with my maybe-kind-of boyfriend.
The door opens behind me.
Luke steps inside carrying two more boxes like they weigh nothing. His gaze drops to the one at my feet, then slides back to me.
His mouth twitches. “Well, sunshine.”
I point at him. “Don’t.”
“I’ve never lived with a woman before.”
Crossing my arms, I shake my head. “We’re not living together.”
“Uh-huh.” He sets the boxes beside the dresser. When he straightens, his face is annoyingly amused. “You’re just storing all your earthly possessions in my room indefinitely.”
Heat climbs my neck. His room—not the guest room Emma offered or the spare bedroom Mason swore no one used in his house past the barn.
Luke’s room.
His bed.
His closet, where half my clothes already hang because he scolded me for trying to live out of a duffel bag.
I scowl at him. “I was emotionally compromised.”
He lifts his brows. “You still are.”
I shrug. “I guess that’s fair.”
The humor fades from his face. In two strides, he’s standing in front of me. His hands settle on my hips, warm and steady. “Hey. You don’t have to justify being here.”
The knot in my chest tightens. I just didn’t imagine that this was the way I’d move in with a man—out of necessity rather than because he wants me. Luke’s been good-natured about it, but I can’t escape that I foisted this on him.
Luke’s thumb brushes beneath my eye before a tear can fall. “Are you sad because you’re stuck with me now?”
A watery laugh escapes me. “It’s the other way around, isn’t it? It’s a terrible deal for you.”