She was good at what she did, but then my female was so fucking smart.

Even though I was the Sheriff of Stales, I would have packed my shit, quit my job, and moved to wherever Brittin was.

I loved her too much to let her go again.

But I'd been pleasantly surprised when she told me she wanted to come back home, that she wanted to have her life in Stales again ... with me.

I looked over at the small drawer in the foyer dresser. I could see it from my position. Inside was a small black velvet box, one I would open up to show Brittin the diamond engagement ring I'd gotten for her. I should have proposed to her years ago, but I'd been such a stupid motherfucker back in the day. I'd let the best thing in my life walk away.

Never again.

Brittin came back out holding two glasses of lemonade. My body instantly hardened at the thought of her being mine. Well, it also didn't help that she was wearing this dress that showed off her sexy-as-fuck legs.

When she was right in front of me and had set the bottles on the table, I didn't stop myself from pulling her close and kissing the hell out of her. For several minutes I held her, tongue-fucking her with my mouth, because right now I needed a distraction.

Truth was, I was nervous as fuck. After long seconds, she pulled back, resting her head on my chest, her body molding against mine.

I loved when we were like this, me just holding her, and her trusting me enough to be close.

"I'm thinking we should skip dinner," she whispered against my chest, her arousal coating the air and making me harder.

I growled out, and as much as I wanted to throw her over my shoulder and fuck her senseless, I wanted to ask her a pretty big question.

I glanced over my shoulder and looked at the dresser again. "Hold on, baby." I pulled away from her and walked over to the drawer, pulled it open, and grabbed the little box. I held it in my hand for long seconds, the weight substantial, and my heart thundering.

My bear was on edge, pacing back and forth inside of me, and needing to do this just as much as my human side did. I turned around and made my way back to my female, and before my nerves got the better of me, I got down on one knee before her.

I lifted my hand with the box in my open palm, popped the lid, and stared at the woman I loved more than anything else.

She stared at it for a second, glanced at me with wide eyes, and I scented the surprise coming from her. It was like the fresh rain.

"Oh my God. Law?"

I stood and pulled her in close, needing to hold her right now. I kissed her before she could say anything. My mouth was by the crown of her head, and I stared off, trying to phrase this right.

"I know I fucked up back in the day. I know the problems I had, the fact I tried to stifle you from doing what you wanted. For the two years you were gone, I thought about what I should have done to make you happy."

"You did make me happy, Law," she said, and I pulled back to look down at her. "We just didn't see eye-to-eye back then. Things are different now." She smiled. "Blaine's been sober for a year, is doing well with his meetings, and I'm back in Stales with you. You don't try to control me, and although you give me the freedom to do what I want in life, you also protect me and are an incredible partner." She rose up and kissed me. "That's all I wanted from you. I just wanted a partnership."

I squeezed her hand gently, so fucking thankful I had her in my life. "I love you, Brittin Clarke."

"I love you too, Lawson Blackwater."

"I've never loved, nor will I ever love, anyone else in my entire life." Lifting her hand to my mouth, I kissed her fingers and stared into her face. "Will you be my wife and continue to make me the happiest grizzly on this fucking planet?" I pulled the ring out of the box and slipped it on her finger.

"Law," she breathed out. The tears started to slip down her cheeks, and I brushed them away.

"I hope those are because you're happy."

She nodded quickly. "Yes, I'll marry you."

I crushed her to me.

We didn't move for long seconds, but that was okay, because I liked this with her. It was a comfortable silence, a warm atmosphere; it told me there was good ahead of us.

But I needed to show her a little more how much I loved her. I lowered my head and ran my tongue along her lips, loving the moan that came from her. I knew I still had a lot to learn about being the best male I could with my woman, but I also knew I had all the time in the world.

She was mine, would always be mine, and I wasn't going to ever fuck this up again.

The End

Author Bio

Jenika Snow is a USA Today Bestselling Author, a mother, wife, and used to work as a nurse. She lives in the Northeast with her husband and their two daughters.

The Lawman's Lover.

by Lori King.

Crawley Creek 7.

For all the single ladies. Embrace what makes you happy.

Prologue.

Eighteen months earlier...

Unfolding his bulk from the tiny airplane seat, Colby Bricker rose to his full height only to slam his head into the overhead bin. Cursing his size for the millionth time in his life, he hunched over until he was able to move into the center aisle. Surrounded by people trying to collect their own luggage, claustrophobia set in, and a sheen of sweat popped up on his brow. He hated confined spaces, and that made flying a real pain in the ass, but it was the only realistic way to get to Montford, North Dakota and back to San Francisco before he had to work on Tuesday.

His beat-up military-issue bag held the bare minimum for his quick trip, and he sighed with relief when he stepped free of the plane and into the tunnel. It didn't matter he was still technically in a metal box; this box felt more spacious. Moving quickly through the small airport, he went straight to the rental desk and picked up his rental car. It felt strange driving someone else's car down the highway to Montford, but he'd planned the surprise trip to see his mom and sister, so he couldn't very well ask them to pick him up at the airport.

The town he'd grown up in was growing, and to his dismay, he noted a couple of big box stores littering the sides of the road outside of what used to be the city limits. He wondered just how many of the small business owners had been run out thanks to those corporate folks. He lived in a big city nowadays, so he knew how quickly everything became commercialized once the door was opened a crack. It would be a shame to see his hometown go down that road.

Thankfully, he noted very few changes to the interior of Montford. The convenience store still stood next to the local bar, Mick's Watering Hole. Down the street, Nadia Crause's bakery was still cheerfully painted Pepto pink, and the park held a dozen small tents that represented the downtown farmer's market as it had for his whole life. Rolling his window down a bit, he took a deep breath of the cool fall air and smiled to himself. It was good to be home.

His good feeling lasted all of two hours before his whole world fell apart.

"Parkinson's? Like, that shaking thing that Michael J. Fox has?" He heard himself speaking, but his voice sounded hollow to his ears. It was like he was having some sort of out-of-body experience. His mother and sister sat across the table from him with matching grim looks on their faces.

Elaine Bricker held her daughter Abby's hand, clasping it tightly as though borrowing her strength to get through the terrible news. Colby stared at their clenched fists because he couldn't bring himself to see the helpless look on his sister's face or the defeated one his mother wore.

"Yes, that's the same disease. It's a degenerative disease, so it will continue to get worse. The tremors will eventually take over, and I'll lose control of my muscles completely," Elaine explained. He recognized the tone of her voice. It was the same one she'd used when she'd told them twenty years ago their father wouldn't be coming home from Kuwait.

"But that could take years," Abby protested, patting Elaine's hand. "The doctors can't be sure."

"So, you're dying? There's no cure? What about treatments? Surely there are treatments for this. If some big-name actor has it, you can be sure there's money supporting research. When I get back to San Francisco, I can call around-"

"Colby, stop," his mother's sharp command cut through his panicked babbling, and he finally met her eyes. She had large blue eyes ringed with long dark lashes. When he was young, he'd thought she looked like a Precious Moments Doll. His sister shared the same big blue eyes, but she'd gotten the dark hair of a true Italian, like he had from their father. "There's no sense investing every penny we have into treatments that won't stop this train. It's going to roll down the tracks whether we like it or not."

"That doesn't mean we can't slow it down. Buy you a few more years," Colby protested, looking to his sister for support.

Abby sighed and gave a small shrug. "You're not saying anything I haven't thought, Cheeto, and believe me, I've tried like hell to convince her, but I think she's made up her mind."

Not even the use of his childhood nickname eased the burning pain in Colby's chest. Struggling to breathe, he shoved to his feet and hurried to the front door. He couldn't sit inside anymore. He needed space to think.

Seeking out the oversized swing that had been hanging from the front porch most of his life, he dropped onto it and grimaced at the loud creak that echoed through the air. He was a whole lot larger than he used to be, and the swing was a whole lot older. Tears burned his eyelids as he forced air into his lungs through his nose and out of his mouth. The coping mechanism helped with the sense of claustrophobia, but it did nothing to ease the pain in his sternum. His mother was dying. Slowly perhaps, but she was dying. He couldn't do anything to stop it.

How could God be so cruel? He'd lost one parent as a child, and it had impacted the rest of his life. Now he wasn't just going to lose his mother, but he was going to have to watch her suffer and die slowly. What special kind of hell was this?

He didn't hear Abby come outside, but the swing creaked when she sat beside him, and he jerked his head to look her way.

"Easy, it's just me. I wanted to make sure you were okay. I'm sure you have questions." She'd assumed the tone of a medical professional, which he supposed was her personal coping mechanism. As an RN, she understood what was happening to their mother, but that didn't mean she could stop it.

"How long has she known?" he asked, clearing his throat.

"We just found out a few weeks ago. She didn't want to tell you over the phone, and she wanted to get a second opinion just to be sure."

He nodded. "I take it the second opinion was the same as the first?"

Abby nodded, her dark hair bouncing around her shoulders. "There's nothing anyone can do."

"So how long does she have, realistically?"

"There's no way to know. Some people have lived for decades with the disease, while others have only lasted months. It affects each person a little differently. All we can do is help her through it and keep her comfortable," Abby explained, leaning her head on his shoulder.

They were barely a year apart, but until he'd left home for the Navy, they'd never been close. Instead of being tight, they'd been competitive. Both were good students, and both were fairly popular at school, but when they came home, they were competitors for their mother's attention. As a single mom, Elaine had done her best to spread herself between them, but she'd worked two jobs to cover the bills, so that left very little.

"I know you don't want to hear this, Cheeto, but we're going to have to look into some assisted care facilities. I can't take care of her by myself when she starts getting worse," Abby said, her voice cracking with emotion.

"I'll move back. Just say the word and I'll pack my shit and be back here in a blink," Colby said firmly. "We'll do whatever it takes to keep her at home as long as possible."

Abby began to cry, and Colby hugged her while lost in his own thoughts and emotions. They clung to each other as they processed the reality of the situation. With a one-word diagnosis, their entire lives had changed.

1.

Present day...