She tipped her head back. “It already is.”
But was it enough? The evening had been amazing so far, I didn’t want to risk her answer.Why, no, Teller, never getting a chance to live my dream, even in a small way, isn’t enough.
Her bad fortune was my good. She had gotten stuck in Bourbon Canyon to be around for her mom—who resented her—but I got a woman I couldn’t have conjured in my fantasies. A loving, intelligent, driven person who loved with her whole soul. I woke up to her and I went to bed with her. And on a night when I’d been prepared to come home and stuff down the bitterness about my empty house, I was dancing with her under the wide-open Montana sky as a summer rain drifted across the land.
I stopped. “I love you.”
The headlights timed out and she jumped.
I kept hold of her and continued to dance. Her moves were sluggish, but she let me lead. We were close to the truck and the moon gave us enough light that I didn’t fear steering us both into the ditch. Unless I’d done that with my confession. “You don’t have to say it back. I just had to tell you.”
Her boots crunched in the dirt as she stopped. Her chest rose and fell, her breasts brushing against my chest. “Teller... I...”
The buzzing of her phone reached us from inside the cab. She turned her head, but I couldn’t make out her shadowed expression.
The vibration stopped.
“I...” She sucked in a breath. “I never thought I’d say this again, to be honest. I’ve said it to someone before and I thought I meant it then. I really did. But this? What you make me feel? Teller, it’s so much more.”
She couldn’t see my smile.
The buzzing started again.
For fuck’s sake. I was having the most heartfelt talk I’d ever had with a woman and someone had to get ahold of her now?
“Who would be calling this late?” Worry edged her voice.
“The last time it was to tell you that you were getting millions.”
“Two point seven,” she uttered. “What if it’s a call that will take it all away?”
“Not every good thing is going to get taken from you, Maddy.”
She was still looking at me as her phone went wild, vibrating against the cupholder in the console.
“Go ahead,” I said. “Answer it. Find out for yourself.”
She stayed where she was for a moment. Then two.
The phone went silent.
“I should see who it was,” she said.
It started again.
This time, she leaped for it. Three consecutive calls. Foreboding crowded in my chest. Was something wrong?
“It’s the home,” she said as she punched the screen to answer it. “Hello?”
A drop of rain hit my forehead. Another plopped on my shoulder.
I couldn’t hear a word, but Madison didn’t move. She didn’t say anything. Seconds ticked by.
“Okay,” she finally said in a wooden, empty tone. “Thank you for calling. I’ll be right there.” She dropped her hand with the phone. The screen was dark.
The sprinkles got steadier.
“Madison?”
