I pause, letting her words settle. “I used to think justice came clean. Straight lines. Clear endings.” I brush my thumb along her cheek. “Life doesn’t work that way. It circles. Returns. Lets go when it’s ready. Some things don’t get resolved. They just stop owning you. And that’s enough.”
She steps closer, fingers sliding into the belt loops of my jeans, thumbs brushing skin like she’s reminding herself I’m real. “Glad life circled me back to you.”
“Knew it would,” I confess, dipping my head to taste her.
The breeze lifts her hair, loose now, no braids today. Just sun and freedom and the faint scent of plum and roses.
“Do you ever miss it?” I ask, surveying the distant fence.
“What?”
“The roar of the crowds. The lights. The adoration.”
“Not for one moment.” No hesitation. “And you?”
“Thought I did … till I met you,” I confess.
“Because you need fame?” she asks.
“No, because I need to be needed. Not by everyone. Just by who matters.”
“That will never change.”
Our lips brush again—soft, heated.
Then, our gazes stretch up to the stars, silence sealing an unspoken oath.
“You know,” she says, glancing toward the barn frame we staked out, “Mrs. Everley asked what I plan to do when all this is finally over.”
“And?” I ask.
Her smile is slow. Knowing. “I told her I was thinking about learning how to shear alpacas.”
I laugh, low and surprised.
“You serious?”
“Deadly.” She lifts a brow. “Think I’d be good at it.”
I catch her chin, thumb brushing the curve of her jaw. “Think you’d be good at anything you choose.”
My lips feather over the spot, then, down her neck. When I reach the sensitive skin where her collarbone and shoulder meet, she arches back, moaning.
“Should shower first,” I murmur against her hot flesh.
“Can’t wait that long, Cowboy.”
Heat and pressure build at the base of my spine, breath coming faster as I continue my incremental descent toward her gorgeous breasts.
“Whatcanyou wait for?” I ask, dark and dangerous.
“I can make it to the couch …maybe.”
I chuckle, liking this game. My hands fumble with the flowing, draping folds of her sundress, bunching the fabric until I slide a hand beneath.
“No underwear?” I growl.
Mischief glints in her eyes. “Told you I can’t wait.”
