“You dragged me out here to what, force me to sign the contract my father made with Marshall and then have me open all my files so you can dig through them? It’s either that or jail?”

“You’re here because someone shot at you. Tried to kill you.”

“I’m not good to you dead,” I countered.

He stared at me, wide-eyed, then ran a hand down over his face, through his beard. It was his obvious sign of frustration.

“Jesus, woman. You have no idea how special you are. How amazing. So fucking strong. Stubborn. Frustrating.”

“Yay, what every woman wants to he—”

He closed the distance between us and settled his palm over my mouth, hooked his other hand around my back.

“You’re here because I’m protecting you. Because it’s my job to do so. Not working for Marshall or the FBI. Because I’m your man.”

He pulled his hand away and kissed me. Like I was water and he’d trekked through the desert. Like he was my man. Like… I was his and he was proving it.

Eventually, he broke the kiss, set his forehead against mine.

“I saw you at the wake and decided then and there you were mine. I never forgot you from that barbecue when you were there with Jock. I was attracted to you then. Never went away.”

Oh.

“Do you think I wanted to fall in love with the woman who Marshall expected me to fuck and that my boss has me undercover investigating?”

“What?” I stared at him, appalled.

“When you first mentioned that you’d gotten info on me, I told you not to believe everything you read. I wanted to tell you the truth. I couldn’t.” His dark gaze dropped to my lips. “I love you, North Wainright. That’s no lie.”

“You can’t,” I whispered. Those three words were the last thing I’d expected him to say. Anyone to say.

“I can. I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it.”

“This is insane,” I sputtered. I was more shocked now than when I’d been told Macon had died.

He growled. “Insane is still arguing with you.” The next thing I knew, I was tossed over his shoulder. He went inside, the screen door slapping shut behind him. He grabbed something from a kitchen drawer, then cut across the room to the bed. Dropped me on it.

I bounced and popped back up.

“Jed. What do you mean the rest of your life?”

“You’ve got an MBA, I think you understand.”

“We barely know each other and I don’t even know who you really are.”

He stood at the foot of the bed, crossed his arms over his chest. “You know exactly who I am.”

“You lied to me!”

“You lied to your brothers.”