“I’m wondering if I should,” he says carefully, his eyes studying my face for any sign of my reaction. In the dimming light of the barn, his features are partially shadowed, giving him a rugged mysteriousness. “If Dakota and I did move…would you come with us?”
For a full two minutes, the question takes up residence with us, big and fat and overwhelming. The barn seems to hold its breath, waiting for my answer as much as Forrest is. I set down my fork.
What would it mean to leave New York? My apartment, my few friends, my familiar routines? My mother would be horrified—her dreams of me marrying a nice Korean doctor or lawyer already dashed by my writing ambitions, potentially compounded by a move to rural Wyoming.
But then I think of Dakota’s face this morning, bright with the simple joy of chasing rabbits. I think of Boone in the kitchen, patiently teaching me his chili recipe. I think of Forrest now, in this barn that holds the echoes of his childhood, looking at me with hope and uncertainty mingled in his beautiful eyes.
“That’s a big ask for a first date,” I finally say, my tone deliberately light.
His face falls slightly, and he nods, accepting what he thinks is rejection. “You’re right. It’s way too soon?—”
“Ask me on the third date,” I interrupt, meeting his eyes. “You might get the answer you’re hoping for.”
Understanding dawns, followed by a slow smirk that makes my stomach flip. “Is that so?”
“Can’t say for sure. I’m a very unpredictable woman.”
He laughs, the tension dissipating. “That you are.” He reaches out, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering on my cheek. His touch is gentle despite the day’s hard labor, and I lean into it instinctively. “Thanks for bringing dinner. And for spending time with my dad today.”
“I like him,” I say honestly. “He reminds me of you—or you of him, I guess.”
“Poor you,” Forrest jokes.
“Actually”—I lean in closer, the hay crinkling beneath me—“I was thinking how similar you look in this light. Especially now that you’re in full cowboy form.” I let my gaze travel appreciatively over him. “It’s working for you, Hawkins.”
His eyebrow arches. “Is it, now?”
“Mmm,” I confirm. “Turns out cowboy is my new favorite trope.”
“You ain’t seen anything yet, ma’am,” he announces with a deep, sexy cowboy drawl. “I’ve got something I want to show you tonight,” he says. “I made plans for our first official date. Let’s finish eating, and then I’ll get cleaned up and show you how country boys do romance.”
I reach out, running my hand down the front of his open shirt. The cotton is soft from years of washing, warm from his body, and beneath it, his chest is solid and real. “Don’t fuss on my account. I like you just like this.”
His eyes darken at my touch. “Covered in hay and smelling like the barn?”
“Authentic cowboy experience,” I quip. “The burly, manly outdoorsman with his toolbelt and flannel. Very romance novel cover-worthy.”
“So we’re back to role-playing?” he asks.
I shake my head. “I don’t think so. I kind of think…this is the real you. Right? If it isn’t, lie to me.”
Forrest laughs, catching my hand and bringing it to his lips. The gesture is old-fashioned and sweet, sending a shiver down my spine despite its innocence. “You’re something else, cookie girl.”
“So I’ve been told.” I lean forward and press a light kiss to his lips. “What’s this mysterious something you want to show me?”
He smiles against my mouth. “The stars. You’ve never seen them like this before—without city lights drowning them out. You’ll see, sweetheart. I’m going to romance the heck out of you. By the end of tonight,you’llbe the one dropping down on one knee.”
I burst out in a raucous laugh, but the funny part is…the way he’s looking tonight…
I wouldn’t rule it out.
chapter 31
Sora
“Sora, your hands are slipping,” Forrest shouts over the rumble of the ATV’s engine.
“I know,” I murmur, but surely he can’t hear me. Seated behind him, my arms wrapped around his body, I let my hands wander to the familiar bulge I’ve been missing during our sex drought.
