When Dad finally stood to leave, he extended his hand to Gage first. "You take care of her, Sheriff."
"She takes care of herself, sir." Gage shook his hand firmly. "I just try to keep up."
Dad's mouth twitched—almost a smile. Then he turned to me, and his voice went soft. "I love you, Lacey girl. Always have. Even when I was too damn stubborn to show it right."
"I love you too, Dad."
He cleared his throat, nodded once, and walked out. Cool air rushed in when the door opened. Smelled like fallen leaves and woodsmoke.
I watched him go, fresh tears sliding down my face.
Gage pulled me against his side. I buried my face in his shoulder and just breathed.
"You okay?" he asked quietly.
"Yeah." I lifted my head to look at him. "Really okay."
Faye brought fresh coffee and a slice of pecan pie "on the house," squeezing my shoulder as she set it down.
We sat there a while longer, letting it settle. I picked at the pie. Gage's arm stayed around me.
Finally, he leaned forward. "Nine months we've been doing this. Me at my place, you at yours, meeting in the middle."
"It's been working."
"It has." He didn't let go of me. "But I've been thinking. Maybe it's time we find our place. Not mine, not yours. Something we choose together."
My lungs stopped working.
"You mean that? Not me moving into your house?"
"I mean finding something new together. Fresh start." His eyes held mine. "Not your cramped one-bedroom. Not my house with that weird loft that's not really a bedroom. Something that's ours from the start."
The knot in my chest finally loosened.
"What's yours is yours," he continued. "What's mine is mine. What's ours is ours. Equal partners picking it out, making decisions together."
"I'd like that very much," I whispered.
His smile could've lit the whole restaurant.
We paid the check—Faye refused to let us pay for the pie—and walked out into the sunny autumn afternoon. The air had a bite to it. I pulled my jacket tighter. Mesquite leaves scattered across the parking lot, gold and brown, crunching under our boots.
Judge was waiting in the truck, wet nose pressed to the window. The moment he spotted us, his tail started going.
Gage opened the door and Judge practically launched himself out, circling us both, beside himself with joy like we'd been gone for days instead of two hours.
"Hey, buddy." I crouched down to scratch behind his ears. "Miss us?"
Judge leaned his full weight against me, nearly knocking me over.
Gage laughed. "Thinks he's been abandoned every time we leave him for more than ten minutes."
We climbed into the truck, Judge settling in the back seat. Gage started the engine but didn't put it in gear.
"Your place?" he asked.
"Yeah."
