Page 11 of Big and Rowdy

"I was supposed to head out Wednesday. I've got a client meeting in Calgary on Friday."

"Supposed to?"

"Well, I could probably push the meeting back a few days. Work remotely for a while longer." The words seem to surprise her even as she says them. "I never change my travel plans for anyone."

My arm tightens around her. "I'd like that. I'd like that a lot."

"That sounds nice," she says carefully.

"Yeah?" I stop walking and turn to face her, my expression serious. "Because I should probably tell you, Savannah—I'm not looking for a fling. I'm not built that way."

Her heart starts beating faster. "What are you looking for?"

"Something real. Something that lasts." I reach up to cup her face, my thumb tracing her cheekbone. "I know it's crazy, and I know we've only known each other a week, but I can't remember the last time I felt this way about someone."

"How do you feel?" she whispers.

"Like I want to keep you. Like I want to wake up next to you every morning and show you every secret place in these mountains. Like maybe I've been waiting for you without even knowing it."

A week ago, I’d bet my cabin that those words probably would have sent her running for the nearest highway. But standing there in the ruins of my family's history, surrounded by the peace and beauty of my world, I see something settle in her expression.

"I should be scared," she admits.

"Are you?"

"No. And that scares me more than anything."

Her laugh is soft and breathless. "Good. Being scared means it matters."

When I kiss her this time, it's with the tenderness of a man who's found something precious. And when she kisses me back with equal fervor, I feel like I could conquer the world.

"Stay," I say against her lips. "Not just a few extra days. Stay and see what this could be."

I watch her face as she processes what I'm asking. I can see the war between her ingrained need to keep moving and something new, something that wants to put down roots.

"This is crazy," she says quietly. "I don't do this. I don't change my plans for men I've just met."

"Maybe that's exactly why you should."

"Okay," she says, the word barely more than a breath.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Louder this time, more certain. "I'll stay."

My whoop of joy echoes through the forest, and then I'm spinning her around, both of us laughing like children. When I set her down, my eyes are bright with happiness and something that feels suspiciously like love. "You won't regret this," I promise.

"I better not," she says, but she's smiling as she says it.

As we walk back toward the house, my arm around her waist and her head on my shoulder, I feel a contentment I've never experienced before. I've spent years trying to prove I was more than just the reckless Hartwell cousin, but with Savannah, I don't feel like I need to prove anything at all.

A local woman walking her dog waves at us from the road. "Morning, Boone! Heard you're showing your city friend around town."

"Morning, Mrs. Winters," I call back. "This is Savannah."

"Nice to meet you, dear. You staying for the festival?"

"I think I might be," Savannah replies, and I feel my arm tighten around her waist.

"Well, well," Mrs. Winters says with a knowing smile. "Isn't that nice. The town's been wondering when one of you Hartwell boys would finally settle down."

As she continues on her way, I shake my head. "And that's how it starts. By dinner, half the town will be planning our wedding."

"Is that such a bad thing?" Savannah asks, surprising herself with the question.

I look down at her, my expression soft. "Not at all."

Three months later, when Savannah's officially moved in and engaged to me, I know she'll look back on this moment as the one where her real life began. But this morning, all I know is that we're exactly where we're meant to be.