My heart pounds so hard I can feel it in my throat.
“Daniel.”
He glances up, and I watch the hope flicker across his face before he can lock it down. The way his shoulders tense. The way his jaw tightens, bracing for impact.
I don’t give him time to brace.
“Yes.”
His brow creases. “Yes, what?”
“Yes, I’ll marry you.” I close the distance between us, watching his eyes widen, watching the careful control crack and something raw and wondering break through. “Not for the grant. Not for the ranch. Not because I need a roof over my head.”
His phone lowers, forgotten. “Then why?”
“Because you moved my coffee cup and adjusted the blind and relocated the potatoes, and you have no idea you did any of it.” I stop in front of him, close enough to see the pulse hammering in his throat. “Because there are wildflowers in my room, and I thought Miss Maggie put them there, but it was you. Because you fixed the sticky office door and bought my pens and stocked my tea and moved my truck every single day for weeks, and you never said a word. You never asked for credit. You never made me feel like I owed you anything.”
His throat works. “Delaney?—”
“You’ve been taking care of me since the day I got here.” My voice cracks, and I hate it, but I keep going because I’m done hiding. “And I was so busy protecting myself that I didn’t even see it. I didn’t let myself see it.”
“You see it now?”
“I see it now.”
Something shifts in his expression. The hope stops flickering and catches fire.
I grab his shirt and pull him down to me.
The kiss isn’t gentle. It’s two weeks of 2 AM kitchen encounters and accidental touches and the constant ache of wanting something I was too scared to reach for. His hands find my waist, my back, one sliding up to cup the back of my head, and I’m fisting his shirt hard enough to wrinkle it beyond repair, but I don’t care.
I’m done being careful. I’m done waiting for permission. I’m done treating happiness like a trap.
When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing hard. His forehead drops to mine, his thumb tracing slow circles against my hip.
“I’m going to be terrible at this,” I manage. “I’ll fight you on everything. I’ll reorganize your systems and drive you insane.”
His laugh rumbles through his chest and into mine. “You already reorganized my systems. You already drive me insane. Nothing new there.”
“I’m serious. I don’t know how to let someone take care of me. I’ve never?—”
“Laney.” He pulls back just enough to meet my eyes, and what I see there steals the breath from my lungs. “I don’t know how to love someone without trying to protect them from everything. I’m going to be controlling and paranoid and I’ll probably piss you off on a daily basis.”
“Probably?”
“Definitely.” His grin breaks through, crooked and real and so devastating my heart stutters. “But I’m going to take care of you anyway. Whether you like it or not.”
I’m smiling. I can feel it spreading across my face, wide and ridiculous and completely unstoppable. “That’s really not a selling point.”
“It’s the truth.” He kisses me again, softer this time, lingering like he’s memorizing the shape of my mouth. “Welcome to the family.”
Family.
The word blooms in my chest, warm and bright and terrifying in the best possible way.
I glance around the kitchen, suddenly aware of the silence. The counter where Miss Maggie was working stands empty. The back door is closed. I didn’t hear it open. Didn’t hear her leave.
“Where did Miss Maggie go?”
