His body is tense next to me. I take a breath to speak and he blurts, “I’m sorry I hit your brother.”
I snort. “He hit you first. Don't worry. That's not what I came here to talk to you about.”
His jaw clenches. “You were never just a notch on my bedpost, Quinnie. I never once saw you that way.”
“I know that,” I say. “You were wrong, by the way.”
He grunts. “I’m wrong about lots of things. But what am I wrong about this time?”
“You told me there was nothing here for me." My eyes meet his, and my voice cracks when I tell him, "You’re here."
He shakes his head. "Quinnie—"
I hold up my hand to silence him. "No. It's my turn to talk."
He mimes zipping his lips and throwing away the key.
I pull the blanket tighter around my shoulders. "You have always shown up for me, always been there when I needed you. It's my turn to do right by you, Tripp. I can't go to Denver when you're here. I thought I needed to be logical about us, but I can't do it."
I hold his gaze, those dark eyes wide and expectant. "There's no rhyme or reason to the way I love you. You check every damn box on the list of things I didn’t even know I was looking for.”
He ducks his head. “I lied to you,” he admits.
I stiffen next to him, steeling myself. “About what?”
“This was never casual for me. It always meant something. It’s why I barely hesitated breaking five years of celibacy for you.” His lips twitch with a rueful smile. “You've always been it, Quinnie. It feels like I’ve loved you forever, and just didn’t know it.”
Tears fill my eyes as he takes my hand, fingers threading through mine. He’s held my hand a million times over the years, but I never realized how right it always felt. His eyes find mine once more.
“I’d never hold you back,” he says. “I love your drive, your ambition, your skill. Watching you do your job—it’s hot as hell. I’d never want you to give up any part of that. I’m so damn proud of you. So, if Denver’s your next step, I’ll follow you there. I’d follow you anywhere. You deserve to keep chasing every dream you have. I’d never stand in your way.”
His words are everything because he means them. I let them settle around me like a cozy blanket, comforting and warm and secure.
I picture us in Denver; me working crazy hours in the city; him finding a job as a ranch hand or trainer there. But the vision is dim, murky. Tripp’s whole life has been in Cottonwood Creek. His family is here. And my family’s here too.
I squeeze his hand. “I already turned down the Denver job, Tripp."
His gaze snaps to mine, and my lips curl into a smile. "Dr. Dillard offered me a job at the clinic here, and the opportunity to take the whole thing over when he retires next year.”
"You can't just give up Denver."
I shake my head at him. "I don't feel like I'm giving anything up by staying here. It only feels like I'm gaining things—friends, family. I'll have my own clinic and the challenge of doing a little bit of everything here. My specialty will be a huge benefit to the community."
Once I allowed myself to want something different, this was the easiest decision in the world. I'd emailed Dr. Kroychek to turn her down the second I got to Tripp’s house.
Pops was right. It was okay to change course, to shift my priorities. I have new things to care about, and it’s only made my life feel more balanced. Richer. Fuller.
There’s a beat of silence, and then the tension goes out of him in a whoosh.
“Really?” he asks, voice shaking. “Are you sure?” His hand tightens on mine, like he’s afraid I’ll take it back.
I nod. "I'm sure. I choose Cottonwood Creek. I choose you. Us.” I reach up to comb my fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. “I’ve never been happier and felt more like who I’m meant to be than when I’m with you. I’d be stupid to want to be anywhere else.”
He leans forward, his forehead resting on mine. “Christ, honey, I love you.”
I let loose a breath. Everything in my body finally relaxes, settling into a bone-deep contentment. “I love you too.”
His mouth is on mine the second the words are past my lips, and I melt into him, deepening the kiss, leaning into his steadiness.
