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She breathed in Dalton’s scent and knew that it was one she would forever love.
Finally, the sobs ceased. Anya’s head rested on Dalton’s chest. She never wanted to leave the comfort of his arms ever again.
Dalton tipped her chin upward, making her meet his gaze.
“That’s it. No more tears,” Dalton murmured. He gently wiped her cheeks dry.
“Do you know anything about the good Samaritans who captured Glenn?” she asked.
Dalton shook his head, but she had a suspicion he knew more than he was admitting.
At this point, she didn’t want to know. Since moving in with Dalton, she’d come clean to her parents and Dalton about everything with Glenn. It had been hard, but it was like a weight off her chest after sharing her pains and struggle with how her life had come to be under Glenn’s thumb.
The air was clear with her family.
“There’s one other thing I have meant to tell you,” she murmured. She reached up and ran her hand along Dalton’s beard. He was devilishly handsome with the beard. She’d been aching to braid the top of his hair, which he allowed. It gave him more of a bad-boy look that she loved.
“What is that?” he asked. His hand slowly continued to rub small circles on Anya’s back.
“Everything between us was fast, but I’ve known you basically my entire life,” she began. She searched his eyes and found nothing but love shining back at her. It gave her strength to say what she’d wanted to say since she was eighteen years old. “I love you, Dalton McNeil. You mean everything to me, and I’m so thankful to have you.”
A smile appeared on his lips.
“Anya Graham. I can’t imagine my life without you. I love you, too.”
A wide grin stretched across her face. Dalton pulled her near and gently pressed a kiss to her lips. She sighed, leaning against him.
There was no other place she’d rather be than right here in his arms.
