Ryan:
The sink filled with soapy water as I rinsed the last plate, the repetitive motions giving my hands something to do while my mind churned. Dani's face wouldn't leave my head—the bruises, the fear that flickered in her eyes despite the bravado she clung to. My chest tightened just thinking about it.
"Do you ever stop brooding?"
I glanced at Julian, who leaned lazily against the counter, drying a glass with exaggerated ease. His grin was sharp and knowing, the kind of look that made me want to hit something—preferably him.
"Not now." I shoved a plate into the drying rack with more force than necessary.
"Especially not now," he muttered with amusement. "Is this about the contract marriage idea or your father?"
I clenched my jaw. Julian's mouth had a way of getting under my skin.
Before I could tell him to shut up, a loud knock broke through the air.
We both turned our heads toward the front door.
"You expecting anyone?" Julian asked, his voice suddenly sharper. All humor was gone.
"No." I tossed the towel aside and crossed the room in three quick strides, Julian at my heels. The knot in my gut tightened as I opened the door.
Will stood on the porch.
His grin was casual like he had every right to be here, but I caught the glint of malice in his eyes.
"Ryan," he greeted smoothly, a smile that didn't reach his eyes. His gaze flicked over my shoulder. "Where's Dani?"
My protective instinct surged like a wave. I stepped into the doorway, blocking his view of Dani, who I knew was just inside, standing in the hallway with her arms crossed over her chest. "She's not seeing you."
His smirk didn't falter. "She's my wife."
"Ex-wife," I said, my voice colder than the air between us. "And she doesn't want to see you."
His jaw twitched. "I don't need your permission."
"You're on her property." My tone stayed calm and deliberate. "So, actually, you do. Leave before I make you."
His expression darkened. We stood inches apart now, the weight of unspoken violence heavy between us.
"She's better off without you," I said, every word a weapon. "And if you think you'll lay another hand on her for one second, you're dumber than you look."
Will's eyes flashed with something dangerous. "You think you're better? What do you even know about her? She's broken, Ryan. Just a liability waiting to drag you down."
The anger inside me, the fire I kept so carefully banked, consumed me.
He didn't deserve to say her name. He didn't deserve to breathe near her.
"You hired someone to hurt her," I said quietly, my voice dropping into lethal calm. "I know it, and she knows it. You've got a lot of nerve coming here."
His sneer returned, the corner of his mouth curling into something ugly.
"Careful with those accusations. Messy business, making claims you can't back up."
Messier than Dani's blood that had soaked into the paint on the walls?
I didn't say it aloud, but my expression must have conveyed enough. For a second, I saw hesitation in his eyes. He stepped back, a flicker of uncertainty flashing before his smirk reappeared, his attention behind me.
"Dani, please tell him-" he tried to step around me, but I wouldn't let him.
I wouldn't let him near her ever again. "Don't speak to her. You don't deserve to be near her,"
"Move," he growled.
I know my brain interpreted it differently than he intended it to mean.
But the anger was too much.
With one hand, I grabbed his pristine suit. With the other, my fist hit his mouth so hard he landed with a thunderous crash just off the steps.
We stared each other down until he scrambled off the snowy yard, walking back toward his car. I didn't look away until he was out of sight.
I shut the door with a hard click and exhaled slowly, forcing the tension out of my shoulders.
Behind me, Julian let out a low whistle.
"That was impressive," he drawled. "See, Dani? Ryan already has the protective husband thing down pat."
I glared at him, still seething.
"Oh, hush, Julian. You aren't helping," Dani forced a smile away, her cheeks flaming a deep red as she rushed to the bathroom, pulling me behind her. Of course, Jullian followed.
Julian's grin widened, his eyes twinkling with amusement as Dani cleaned my busted knuckles. It wasn't necessary; it was just the imprint of Will's teeth, and it would heal. But, I liked her like this, on her knees between my legs. It was... breathtaking.
"On the contrary," he added, tapping his chin thoughtfully, "I'm being very helpful. In fact, when the two of you marry, and I, as best man of the groom, make my speech beneath the twinkling fairy lights, I will be sure to add that your love bloomed over a Ryan knocking Will off the porch."
I shook my head, a reluctant smile pulling at the corner of my mouth. "Shut up."
"Just saying," he said with a shrug. "It's a great story."
Dani's hands moved gently but purposefully, her delicate fingers dabbing antiseptic on my knuckles. The sting was minor—nothing compared to the satisfaction of seeing Will hit the ground. I kept my eyes on her as she worked, noticing how her lips pressed together and her jaw tight.
"You didn't have to hit him," she muttered, though her voice was softer than her words.
"Yes, I did."
Her eyes flicked up to meet mine, and for a moment, something unreadable passed between us. "He's not worth it."
"He's not worth you. Your past or your future," I corrected.
Her breath caught a subtle hitch that she quickly masked as she busied herself with the bandage. I could feel Julian's amused gaze burning a hole into the side of my head. He lived for moments like this—fuel for his endless supply of commentary.
"You know," Julian said, leaning casually against the doorframe, "I think this qualifies as foreplay in some circles."
Dani made a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a scoff. "You're incorrigible."
"And you," Julian said, pointing at me with the air of someone giving sage advice, "need to think about accessorizing. A brass knuckle would've added a certain je ne sais quoi to that punch. Really make a statement."
I couldn't help but smirk, the tension in my shoulders easing slightly. "I'll keep that in mind."
"Oh, I'll be sure to remind you." He crossed his arms, a wicked gleam in his eye. "Just think of the wedding invitations: Ryan Sterling marries Dani Evergreen under the glow of moonlight after punching her ex in the face. Formal attire required."
Dani groaned, clearly exasperated. "Stop. There's no wedding. There's no—"
"Yet," Julian interjected, waggling his eyebrows.
She shot him a glare that could've melted steel, but he was unfazed.
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing outright. "You're going to get yourself killed one day."
Julian shrugged. "If it's for love, at least it'll be a good story."
Dani finished wrapping my hand and sat back on her heels, her eyes still stormy with frustration—but there was something else there, too.
Something softer.
"You need to stop fighting my battles," she said, her voice quieter now. "I've been fighting them alone for a long time. I can handle it."
"I know you can." I reached out, my thumb brushing lightly over her wrist before I caught myself. "But you shouldn't have to."
Silence stretched between us, thick with things neither of us could say.
Julian clapped his hands, breaking the moment. "And on that note, I'm going to go... do something. You two lovebirds can figure out your contractual bliss without me."
As he sauntered out of the bathroom, I shook my head. "You let him get away with too much."
Dani smiled faintly, her eyes finally meeting mine again. "He keeps things… light."
My heart thudded a little too hard. "Yeah. But not everything is light."
"No." Her smile faded, and she exhaled softly. "It's not."
When her hand rested on mine just a second longer than necessary, I didn't let go.
Her fingers stayed on mine, warm and steady, and the air between us seemed to pulse with something fragile but undeniable. She should've pulled away by now. I should've let her. But neither of us moved.
I didn't want to.
"Ryan…" she started, her voice a whisper that carried too many emotions.
"Don't." My voice came out rough, low. I wasn't sure what I was asking her not to say—whether it was something that would pull us apart or push us closer. Both felt equally dangerous.
Her lips parted, her eyes searching mine as if looking for answers, maybe. Or courage. "You can't keep doing this."
I frowned, my hand tightening slightly around hers. "Doing what?"
"Protecting me." She swallowed, her voice trembling just enough to give away the vulnerability beneath her words. "Making me feel like I'm something precious when I'm just…"
"Just what?" I interrupted, my tone sharp, the heat rising in my chest. "What do you think you are, Dani?"
She broke eye contact, her gaze falling to our joined hands. "Damaged." The word fell between us like a heavy stone.
I felt the word like a punch to the gut. "Don't."
"It's true," she whispered.
"No, it's not." The conviction in my voice surprised even me. I reached out with my free hand, lifting her chin until she had no choice but to look at me. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, but there was a fire in them, too. The fire that had kept her standing through everything. "You are not broken. You're still here. You're strong, you're brave, and you are not a liability."
Her breath hitched, a tear slipping down her cheek. I caught it with my thumb, brushing it away with more tenderness than I thought I was capable of.
"I don't need you to save me," she said, her voice barely more than a soft breath.
"I know." My hand stayed on her face, my thumb gently tracing the line of her cheekbone. "But I want to. Because you're worth it, Dani. Every fight. Every risk. Every damn second."
Her eyes searched mine, and everything else fell away for a heartbeat—Will, my father, the company, the weight of everything we weren't saying. It was just her. Just us.
She leaned in before either of us had a chance to think better of it. Her lips brushed mine, tentative and soft at first. But then I tilted my head, and everything shifted.
The kiss deepened, her hands curling into the fabric of my shirt as if holding on for dear life. I let myself fall into her—the taste, the feel, and the way her presence burned through every dark corner of my mind.
When we finally pulled apart, our foreheads rested together, our breaths mingling in the charged air between us. That was the best kiss I have ever had.
"We can't let this complicate things," she murmured, her lips curving into a ghost of a smile.
"Yeah." I exhaled, my heart thundering.
Her laughter was soft but filled the room, a sound I wanted to hear a thousand times more. "Julian's never going to let us live this down."
I grinned. "He already thinks we're halfway married."
"Maybe…" she said slowly, her smile fading but her eyes staying warm, "it's not the worst idea."