Tex’s fingers pause in my hair. He cups my chin and tilts my face up to his, his green eyes shining with emotion. “The only thing I regret is every day I lived without you.”
My eyes sting. “That’s not fair.”
“It’s true. And you don’t get to argue with truth.”
A laugh slips out—wet and shaky.
Tex’s mouth twitches. “There she is.”
I sniff, embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”
He kisses my mouth, quick and firm. “No.”
I swallow. “I’m?—”
“No,” he repeats. Then softer, “You don’t apologize for existing.”
My chest aches so hard it feels like it might split.
I curl into him, pressing my face into his neck. “I don’t know how to let someone love me like this.”
Tex’s arms tighten around me. “We’ll learn.”
We.
That word again. It makes my whole body relax in a way I didn’t know was possible.
“You really meant it. In the field,” I whisper against his skin.
Tex’s voice rumbles against my ear. “Every word.”
I tilt my face up. “Kiss me, cowboy. Give your snow globe a little shake.”
His warm chuckle vibrates through me as his mouth claims mine.
And then he shakes this chaotic snow globe of crazy just enough to make the whole world blur—sparkling, dizzy, and perfectly ours.
Epilogue
Jane
Six Months Later
I’m making coffee incorrectly again.
Notwrongwrong, just not up to Tex’s military standards, which means the grounds aren’t leveled with a ruler, and I’ve committed the sin of eyeballing the water.
Summer has arrived in Havenridge while I wasn’t paying attention. The pastures are green, and the windows are open to admit the early summer sun.
Six months.
I’ve been here for six months, and sometimes I still find myself waiting for the other shoe to drop.
It never does.
I hear Tex’s boots on the porch before the door opens. He’s been out since five, checking fences with Tank. When he walks in, the cold clings to his jacket, and his eyes find me immediately, like they always do.
“You’re doin’ it wrong,” he says, but there’s a smile in his voice.
