BooksBarbecue
Back When Love Found Us Save as PDF
Chapters (59)
  1. WHEN LOVE FOUND US
  2. Also By Claudia Burgoa
  3. IMPORTANT NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
  4. Dedication
  5. Epigraph
  6. Prologue
  7. Chapter One
  8. Chapter Two
  9. Chapter Three
  10. Chapter Four
  11. Chapter Five
  12. Chapter Six
  13. Chapter Seven
  14. Chapter Eight
  15. Chapter Nine
  16. Chapter Ten
  17. Chapter Eleven
  18. Chapter Twelve
  19. Chapter Thirteen
  20. Chapter Fourteen
  21. Chapter Fifteen
  22. Chapter Sixteen
  23. Chapter Seventeen
  24. Chapter Eighteen
  25. Chapter Nineteen
  26. Chapter Twenty
  27. Chapter Twenty-One
  28. Chapter Twenty-Two
  29. Chapter Twenty-Three
  30. Chapter Twenty-Four
  31. Chapter Twenty-Five
  32. Chapter Twenty-Six
  33. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  34. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  35. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  36. Chapter Thirty
  37. Chapter Thirty-One
  38. Chapter Thirty-Two
  39. Chapter Thirty-Three
  40. Chapter Thirty-Four
  41. Chapter Thirty-Five
  42. Chapter Thirty-Six
  43. Chapter Thirty-Seven
  44. Chapter Thirty-Eight
  45. Chapter Thirty-Nine
  46. Chapter Forty
  47. Chapter Forty-One
  48. Chapter Forty-Two
  49. Chapter Forty-Three
  50. Chapter Forty-Four
  51. Chapter Forty-Five
  52. Chapter Forty-Six
  53. Blythe’s Epilogue
  54. Atlas’s Epilogue
  55. Midnight Between Us
  56. Afterword
  57. Acknowledgments
  58. About Claudia Burgoa
  59. Also By Claudia Burgoa

So many feelings surge up, fast and unmanageable, breaking against me in waves I don’t know how to hold back. I don’t know what to say or how to hold this moment in my hands without losing it to everything I fear.

And then Atlas moves—taking off my seatbelt, pulling me onto his lap, his arms firm around me, his lips crashing against mine like he’s taking the air from my lungs but giving something back in return. A promise. A reassurance. A feeling too deep to acknowledge right now.

I let myself sink into it. Into him. Into this.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Henrietta (Blythe)

The air is cooler up here, crisp with the hint of rain that never quite comes. I pull the blanket tighter around my shoulders, staring out over Birchwood Springs, the rooftops scattered below, and the sleepy glow of porch lights flickering in the distance. The town is quiet at this hour, but I can’t sleep.

It’s been three weeks since that night at the lake. Three weeks since Atlas gave me the bracelet, since he kissed me like he was willing to fight for me before I even knew if I could fight for myself.

I’m still here. I haven’t run.

I should be scared that I’m still waiting for the right moment to leave. But what terrifies me more is that I’m not.

In the last three weeks, everything has shifted. Atlas hasn’t trapped me. He hasn’t forced me to stay. And yet, I wake up in his bed every morning—wrapped in his warmth, his arm draped over my waist like he fears I’ll disappear but doesn’t want to say the words.

I’ve stopped thinking of it as his bed. It’s ours now—the sheets tangled with the imprint of both our bodies, the pillows carrying the scent of him and the ghost of my sleepless nights. Even in this strange limbo, where our touches are fleeting, and our kisses feel like stolen moments, we exist here together. But we don’t talk about us. Not really.

How can we, when everything is so uncertain? I’m still married. I’m still hiding. And if I’m being honest, I’m barely holding myself together. Any conversation about us feels like tempting fate—like cracking open a door we might not be ready to walk through.

Winston’s reach has tightened. Sanford’s team intercepted two of his men trying to slip into town. They weren’t here to grab me—not yet—but they were asking questions, and that’s enough to make my stomach knot.