Chief rolled off the bed and walked out of the bedroom. Johanna reached out and picked up her phone off the nightstand, checking the time. Ten after three, in the morning.

Wide awake, she sat up and hung her legs off the edge of the bed. She had no idea how he was surviving with so little sleep.

He'd been home three days, and the most he slept was an hour at a time. If he wasn't making love to her, he was mowing the yard, working on his Harley in the garage, or eating. At night, he paced the house or went outside and stood on the deck.

She walked across the room and grabbed one of Chief's shirts out of the dresser, slipping it over her naked body. If not for Deana warning her what to expect, she'd be worried.

He refused to answer her when she asked what was wrong. She walked out of the bedroom, looking throughout the house for him. The sliding door to the deck was open. She slipped outside and approached him on bare feet, crossing her arms against the chill in the air.

Chief continued to gaze out into the darkness. She wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, and he jolted.

"Sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"I didn't hear you."

She pressed her cheek against his back, his skin warmed her face. "You left the door open."

He grunted. "You should be sleeping."

She stepped around him and plastered herself against his front, looping her arms around his back. "I don't want to miss a minute of being with you."

When he remained silent, she second-guessed herself. Maybe he got up at night because he needed to be away from her. Maybe being back home with her twenty-four/seven tested his patience. Four years apart seemed like a lifetime. He could've changed while incarcerated and needed time to himself.

She swallowed, wanting to ask if he'd prefer she went inside but knew that adding her problems on to his would only cause him more stress.

"You're not cold?" She rubbed his back.

Every inch of him was warm to the touch. Though she wasn't surprised. Every night when they went to bed, he covered them both up to the chin as if he needed the extra heat.

"The prison was cold." He lifted his hands and held on to her hips. "Always cold."

That's why he wanted the warmth now. She closed her eyes, resting her cheek on his chest. His heart beat loudly in her ear.

"You know, Jett stayed here at the house for a few days when he got released from the penitentiary. He wanted to sleep in his old room." She moistened her lips. "I offered him our bed, and I could take the couch, but I think he wanted the comfort of his room he had growing up."

"You took care of my boy," he said.

"I think he took care of me." She lifted her head and gazed at him. "I was hurting and needed the companionship. I don't think we said more than ten sentences between us while he was here, but it was nice to have someone in the house with me."

Chief tipped his head back and looked up at the sky. "You grew up in four years."

There were times where she believed her age made things harder. The Brikken women were older than her and yet they expected her to keep them informed and organized, making sure they knew what days they were allowed at the clubhouse and when their men would be away from home. She had a hard time being a leader when it would be easier to let someone else take control.

She certainly hadn't handled Chief being away maturely. But, she'd survived. It was over. He was home.

"I close my eyes, and I can't shut myself off." He brought his head down and kissed her forehead. "I came out here to get fresh air, remind myself I'm free to walk out. I'm all fucked in the head, bug."

"You'll figure it out." She kissed his chest. "It's going to be hard on you for a while."

"This isn't who I am. I'm the president of Brikken. I want to be with you. I want to push my boys harder. I want..." He exhaled harshly. "I don't have time."

"There will be time," she said softly.

"I don't know," he muttered.

She rubbed her cheek against him. His frustration level got the best of him. He was too hard on himself. The club understood.

She'd seen how Keeffe continued to run the men. Even his boys kept their contact short and sweet when they checked in on him.

"Rollo was fifty years old when he was murdered." He looked down into her eyes. "A couple more months, and I'll be his age when he left this world. I should be stronger, and here I am standing outside in the middle of the fucking night, bitching about I-don't-know-what."

"Oh, Chief." She stood on her tiptoes, her heart splintering in pieces. "You're not your father. Your club is looking out for you. I'm with you. I believe, business at Brikken is running smoothly. You don't always have to be the one carrying everyone else."

"Yeah, I do, bug," he said softly. "That's my job."

She'd relied on him forever, not to leave her, to keep loving her, and she'd added more responsibility on his shoulders. She never realized he could have resentment from being unable to protect his father. It would be like him, even though his father had been the parent, to take on that accountability and be burdened with guilt. He wanted to take care of everyone, and it was simply impossible.

"I love you," she said. "There are times, like right now, where it feels like my heart is going to explode because it's so full."

He raised his hands and captured her face. Cutting him off before he could say anything, she stretched and kissed his lips. "Come back to bed. For once, let me watch you sleep."

He gave a small nod, and gathered her hand, leading her into the house.

In the bedroom, she crawled across the bed and patted the mattress beside her. Chief shut off the lamp and laid down on his back. Pulling the comforter over them both, she cuddled against his side.

He covered her hand on his chest with his hand. "Talk to me, bug."

"About what?"

"Anything." He yawned. "Just want to hear your voice."

She closed her eyes and whispered, "I think I first fell in love with you when you saved me from the rat that was going to kill me."

"It was a mouse."

"It was huge."

"Little bitty thing...like you," he said.

"You were my hero."

He squeezed her hand. "You said that was the first time you fell in love with me. Were there more times?"

"Mm..lots of times." Her body warmed. "I think I was ten years old and you picked me up from school on your motorcycle. Tanner — I don't remember his last name — followed me clear to the parking lot where you were waiting. You told him to scram. What you didn't know is he used to terrorize me on the playground at recess. He was always pulling my hair and chasing me, but after you told him to go away, he never bothered me again."

"I'll kill him," he said, though his body relaxed.

"I don't think that's necessary. I can't even remember what happened to him. He probably moved away." She wrapped her leg around Chief's thigh. "I spied on you the day you told Nene I wasn't going to live with her anymore, and heard everything. That was the third time I fell in love with you."

Nene had thrown out some ugly accusations at Chief. She swallowed. Even at twelve years old, she understood the risk Chief took standing up for her. There was nothing perverted about their relationship. It was her first experience learning that other people judged without knowing the facts. That sometimes, love is pure.

"Keep going," said Chief.

"There are things that happened all the time that made me fall in love with you." She sighed in contentment. "Sometimes I think I love you too much."

"Not possible, bug."

She smiled against his chest as her eyes burned behind her eyelids. Many nights she'd laid awake wanting to talk to him. They shared so much together, he was the only one who'd been there and had the same memories. At times, she felt like she was suffocating because she didn't have him around to talk to.

Now, she could breathe.

Chief's soft snore filled the silence. She remained perfectly still, letting him sleep. He needed his rest, and if it helped him knowing she was watching his back, she'd spend every night for the rest of her life, rehashing their shared past and making sure he was safe.