the texas humidity hung heavy over the back porch, but luke didn't seem to mind it as he stood by the grill, the sleeves of his gray shirt rolled up to reveal the ink blooming across his forearms. he looked every bit the fifty-year-old lawman even off the clock, shoulders broad and posture unyielding. when he heard the screen door creak, he didn't have to turn around to know it was you.

"ribs are almost done, sweetheart," he grumbled, his voice a low, gravelly hum that always seemed to vibrate right through you. he finally glanced over his shoulder, his dark eyes softening the second they landed on your curves. "come here and give me a kiss."

you walked over, feeling small but entirely safe in his shadow. even in his relaxed jeans, the weight of the holster on his waistband was a familiar presence, a reminder of the man who spent his days holding the line and his nights holding you. as you reached him, he tucked a stray hair behind your ear, his knuckles, marked with faded tattoos, brushing gently against your cheek.

"you've been quiet inside," he noted, his thumb tracing your jawline with a possessive slow burn. "everything alright in that head of yours, or do i need to remind you who you belong to?"