Chapter 25

Chapter Twenty-Five

CONNOR

When Neil arrived home, just after nine in the evening, he looked as if he'd been put through the wringer. Exhaustion was etched into every line of his face, his usual confident stride reduced to something slower, more deliberate. Still, he managed to eat some of the lasagna I'd made from scratch—well, from bottles and dried pasta, at least. It wasn't gourmet, but it filled the gap.

"What did the ME say?" I asked after a pause where I let him eat.

"That detecting any traces of medication after all this time was statistically unlikely."

Fuck.

I made him drink water and sit on the sofa with his notebook, already thick with the notes he'd been jotting down throughout the day. They weren't the same fancy journals as his dad's, not by a long shot, but they clearly served a similar purpose. I couldn't help but wonder how often my name appeared in them .

While he sat there, scribbling away, I cleared up the kitchen, loading the dishwasher and wiping down the counters. When I stepped into the living room, I found him dozing, the notebook resting on his chest, the pen loose in his left hand.

He looked peaceful like that, the tension from the day slipping away in sleep. His hair was tousled, a few strands falling over his forehead, and there was light stubble on his jaw, a shadow that only made him more rugged.

Mine.

The soft light from the lamp cast a warm glow on his face, highlighting the strong lines of his jaw, the curve of his lips, and the slight rise and fall of his chest as he breathed deeply.

God, he was so beautiful.

I leaned over to kiss his forehead, pressing my lips to his skin. He let out a sleepy noise, somewhere between a sigh and a hum, and it was the most adorable sound I'd ever heard—not that I'd ever tell him that. Those pesky feelings I'd caught were bigger and better now, but I wanted him more awake when I told him how I felt and what I wanted for our future.

"Time for bed," I murmured, not wanting to startle him.

"‘M comfy," he mumbled, eyes still closed, his voice thick with sleep.

"Bed," I insisted, my tone firm.

He grumbled something unintelligible but relented, sitting up and stretching. We went through the usual routine, brushing our teeth in the bathroom. It was a quiet, comfortable moment, the kind of routine that felt like home. When we climbed into bed, naked, how I curled around him was instinctive, natural, fitting perfectly as the big spoon.

"Wyatt found a permanent position," he murmured, "had to write references."

"Will you replace him?"

He sighed and then turned in my arms. "I need to, even if I have my own personal superhero to hand." He chuckled against my skin and then pressed a kiss close to my nipple before kissing me again, closer and closer, until he tugged the nipple with his teeth, and then suckled it, rubbing at the other with his fingers. Blood rushed south—I thought he'd fall asleep, not end up starting something that I knew I'd finish—worse when he sprawled on top of me and kissed me deeply.

The moment our lips touched, everything else fell away. His mouth was soft and warm, and I moved under him, slowly at first, savoring the feel of him. His breath hitched as I deepened the kiss and widened my legs so he could nestle between them. I cupped the back of his neck, pulling him closer, needing more of him.

He responded in kind, his lips parting, inviting me in. I didn't hesitate. The kiss grew more heated, more urgent, as I angled my head, and he pressed harder against me. The world outside could have been burning, and I wouldn't have noticed. All that mattered was how he felt in my arms and how he fit against me as if he was made to be there.

I broke the kiss, but only long enough to breathe, my forehead resting against his as I tried to gather my scattered thoughts. His eyes were heavy-lidded, glazed with the same desire that was coursing through my veins. I couldn't help the small, satisfied smile that tugged at my lips, knowing I'd been the one to make him look like that.

"Connor…" he breathed out, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah?" I murmured, brushing my thumb over his jaw, my heart pounding.

He didn't answer with words. Instead, he pulled me back in, his lips crashing into mine with a renewed intensity that left me dizzy, craving more. And I gave it to him, pouring everything I felt into that kiss, into every touch, every brush of our lips, until nothing else existed but us.

He was hard and needy, naked the same as me, and in a matter of seconds, we were grinding against each other, slip-sliding in movements that were slow but insistent. Neil lost control first, hot and wet between us, and I was quick to follow.

And we kissed.

I could feel his hands fisting in the fabric of the sheet as if he could push himself closer still. I groaned into his mouth, the sound low and filled with a hunger that had been building for far too long. His tongue flicked against mine, and I felt a jolt of electricity shoot through me, igniting every nerve ending. He reached for my discarded T-shirt, and I didn't even argue when he wiped us down and then flopped onto his back. I grabbed it, tossed it aside, and pulled him into my arms.

His body relaxed into mine, and I couldn't hold it back any longer. All the feelings I'd been holding onto, which I hadn't entirely found the words for, spilled out.

"I love you," I whispered, the words catching in my throat, but there was no stopping them now.

After a heartbeat of silence, he whispered in the dark, "I love you too."

Everything clicked into place. I held him tighter, wrapped up in each other.

Neil's voice cut through the stillness when I thought he'd drifted off. "So, was that worth more than a seven out of ten?"

I felt a laugh bubble up in my chest, and I rolled over to face him. I kissed him slowly and deeply without hesitation, savoring his taste. When I finally pulled back, I grinned. "That, my sexy sheriff, was a fifteen."

He chuckled, resting his forehead against mine. "Good to know."

I held him tighter, his warmth pressed against me, and we drifted off to sleep again, wrapped up in each other.

Whatever forever looked like, I was all in.

Over the next three weeks, box by box, I moved in with Neil. I was still paying rent for the apartment above the diner, but that space had become more of an office than a home. Neil's place—our place, if I were honest with myself—had become my new base where I returned at the end of the day. I wouldn't leave anything over the diner, given that Quinn was talking about converting one of the old stores along Main into an office for our new venture, but that was an issue for another day.

First, I had to overcome a new challenge. I was heading out to meet up with my SEAL team for a reunion. And I was taking Neil with me. He didn't have a choice. I wanted my Navy brothers to meet him, but mostly—selfishly—I wanted him by my side when the memories and emotions of the past, and the missing teammates, came crashing back. I needed him to hold my hand when it all became too much.

Neil was more than my lover—he was my anchor. And in all this chaos, I realized I wanted him with me through everything, for as long as he'd have me.

We'd flown into LA, the City of Angels bathed in late autumn sunshine. I glanced over at Neil, who seemed as out of place as I felt, and couldn't help but smile—this was going to be interesting.

We made our way to a bar tucked away in a quieter part of the city; the place noisy enough to drown out casual eavesdroppers but not so loud that you couldn't have a conversation. Oberon had booked a backroom, a space where we could be ourselves, let loose, and remember the ones who weren't with us anymore.

As we walked in I saw Trick and Oberon, along with some other guys who I assumed were part of Oberon's security company, given that I saw Carter was one of them. Oberon was the first to spot me, his broad grin stretching across his face as he clapped me on the shoulder. "Connor, you made it!"

"Had to happen one day, right? "

The others were quick to follow. With his sharp wit and easygoing demeanor, Trick pulled me into a bear hug, thumping my back. "About time, man. We were starting to think you'd gone soft on us."

"Never," I shot back, grinning as I returned the hug. "Someone's gotta keep you two in line."

"And who are you?" Oberon deadpanned as he shook Neil's hand.

"This is my partner," I talked over whatever Neil was going to say, and got elbowed in the side for the trouble. "My boyfriend. My lover. Hands off."

"I'm Neil," he said with a roll of his eyes.

"Good to meet you, Neil."

"Likewise."

I narrowed my eyes at Oberon, warned him silently to back the fuck off with his flirting shit, and then when Oberon nodded, I left him and Neil talking about alarms and headed over to Carter, holding court in the corner. Not that I stopped watching my former CO.

"Carter. Nice to meet you face-to-face finally," I said, my voice low as I stepped closer and bro-hugged him. "Thanks for the help. I owe you."

He shrugged, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Likewise, and yes, you do."

We exchanged grins, the kind that said more than words ever could. Then, with a glance around the room, we all settled into the backroom, the atmosphere shifting from casual to something more solemn.

Oberon raised a glass, his expression serious now, and we all followed suit. "To everyone we've lost," he said, his voice steady but tinged with the weight of loss. "Gone too soon, but never forgotten."

We all echoed the sentiment, our glasses clinking together in unity. The taste of the whiskey was sharp on my tongue, burning its way down my throat, but it wasn't just the alcohol that made my chest tighten. It was the memories—of the men and women, of all the missions we'd shared with others, the close calls, and the relationships forged in the fire of combat.

Neil stood beside me, silent but present, and I felt a surge of gratitude that he was here, that he'd agreed to step into this part of my life.

The conversation picked up again, the tension easing as we shifted from mourning to reminiscing. Stories were shared, jokes made at each other's expense, the kind only those who'd been through the worst together could tell.

I found myself relaxing into the evening, the presence of my teammates—my brothers—grounding me in a way I hadn't realized I needed. And with Neil by my side, I felt more complete than I had in a long time. This was my world, chaotic and messy, but it was mine. And now, it was ours.

Oberon cornered me an hour into the event, nursing a drink. With that all-too-familiar intensity, he asked, "So, have you thought any more about the job offer? You know, working with me and Trick?"

The question hung in the air, and I could feel Neil's presence beside me, solid and steady. I glanced over at him, his expression neutral, but I knew him well enough by now to catch the subtle tension in his jaw. He listened closely, probably expecting me to be torn about the offer. Hell, a few weeks ago, I might have chosen to leave Whisper Ridge.

But now?

Now, I wasn't torn at all.

I turned back to Oberon, meeting his gaze. "I'm still thinking about it, but Whisper Ridge is where I need to be right now."

Oberon raised an eyebrow, surprised by how adamant I sounded. "Really? I figured you'd be itching to get back into the action, to be part of a team again."

I shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips. "Whisper Ridge has its own kind of action. And besides, I'm not alone there. I've got things—people—that matter."

Neil didn't say anything, but I could feel the shift in the air between us. It wasn't just relief—it was something deeper that felt like a step forward in this complicated thing we had going on. He might not say it out loud, but I knew he was glad I'd chosen to stay.

Oberon studied me for a long moment before nodding with a slight smile. "All right, Connor. If that's what you want, I'm happy for you. But the offer stands if you ever change your mind."

"Thanks, but I'm good," I replied, feeling more confident than ever. Being with Neil was my place, my life—at least until Neil was done with my shit—and I wasn't looking to leave it behind.

As the conversation shifted to lighter topics, I couldn't help but glance at Neil again. His eyes met mine, and in that unspoken way we had, I hoped we were on the same page. Whisper Ridge was where I belonged, and wherever this thing between us was going, it was worth staying for.

We made it back to Whisper Ridge to help Neil's mom get his dad to the assisted living facility in Collier Springs. Neil's dad had taken another turn for the worse, the bullet fragment in his brain shifting and wreaking havoc on his ability to understand the world around him. In a matter of weeks, his condition had deteriorated, leaving him confused and lost. He didn't even know Neil and watching that realization dawn on Neil's face broke my heart.

I'd offered to go with them, to be there for whatever they needed, and Neil didn't argue. He nodded, a silent acceptance I was part of this now.

Bessie was there, too, with Eric and Jason. Neil drove his dad in the sheriff's SUV, the old man mumbling about procedures and witnesses as he was helped in, lost in a time way before the bullet and dementia had taken over. Neil didn't try to correct him, didn't try to bring him back to the present. He listened, living in his dad's world with him, as he helped his quiet and subdued mom into the back, her hands twisting in her lap as she stared out of the window.

I'd volunteered to drive Bessie and her family in my SUV, and when we arrived at Whispering Pines Assisted Living, I parked next to Neil's vehicle. The place was nice, as far as these places go—clean, well-kept, with expansive lawns and rooms with big windows letting in plenty of light. It didn't make any of this easier, though.

I saw Neil helping his dad out of the SUV, one hand on his arm, the other on his back, guiding him with a gentleness that made my chest ache. Bessie was helping her mom out of the backseat, and Eric and Jason were standing by, unsure what to do with themselves. A heavy silence hung over us, the kind that comes when everyone knows something's ending, but no one wants to say it out loud.

Neil's dad glanced around, his eyes cloudy with confusion, and mumbled something about needing to file a report. Neil guided him toward the entrance. His face was a mask of calm I knew was hiding a storm underneath.

I fell into step beside Bessie, offering her a small smile as we walked. "How's Jason holding up?" I asked quietly, glancing at the teenager with his hands in his pockets, staring anywhere but at the facility.

"He's… coping," Bessie replied, her voice tight. "It's hard for him to see his grandpa like this, but he's doing his best."

I nodded, understanding more than she knew. This wasn't easy for any of them, but they were holding it together, and that was what mattered.

When we reached the entrance, the staff greeted us warmly, leading Neil's dad inside with practiced ease. They knew how to handle situations like this, but that didn't make it any less gut-wrenching for the family watching it all happen. I stayed back, letting Neil, Bessie, and their mom have their moments, offering quiet support from the sidelines.

Neil caught my eye once, only a glance, but it was enough to tell me how much he appreciated me being there. I gave him a slight nod, a silent promise that I'd be there for him through this, no matter how tough it got.

This was the beginning of a new chapter for Neil's family, one filled with challenges and adjustments. But I knew one thing for sure—I wasn't going anywhere. I'd be there for Neil, for all of them, for as long as they needed me.