Something in my chest cracked open, warm and bright. “I’m staying,” I said, the words tumbling out before I could second-guess them. “In Sagebrush. I mean, I’ll still have to travel for work—I’m not giving that up—but this can be home base. If you’ll have me.”
Marcus’s smile grew wider. “If I’ll have you? Xavier, I’ve been trying to have you since the day you almost irritated Dolly into homicide.”
“Her coffee still needs work,” I protested, but I was grinning too.
“You were trying to be a nuisance.”
“Maybe,” I admitted. “But it got you to like me, didn’t it?”
Instead of answering, he kissed me. Soft and sweet and full of promise. When we finally pulled apart, I rested my forehead against his chest.
“I love you,” I said quietly. “Even when you’re being a stubborn Texas sheriff.”
“I love you too,” he murmured. “Even when you’re being a pain in my ass.”
From the barn, I could hear the opening notes of a slow song starting up. Marcus took my hand again, threading our fingers together.
“We should get back,” he said. “Before they send out a search party.”
“In a minute,” I said, not ready to let this moment go just yet. “I just want to stand here with you a little longer.”
So we did. We stood under that old oak tree as the stars began to appear overhead, two men who’d found each other in the most unlikely of places, in the most unlikely of ways. And for the first time in my life, I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
Epilogue: Marcus
One Month Later
“Good lord…” I breathed as I watched the back of the UPS truck open. It was full to the brim with boxes, each of them labelled in Xavier’s pristine handwriting. I turned to the driver. “Uh… how many of these are mine?”
He glanced at his tablet. “Uh… forty-seven.”
“Forty-seven?!” I looked back at my small two-bedroom house that couldn’t have been more than eleven hundred square feet. “I’m gonna need a bigger house…”
The driver shrugged, clearly not interested in my housing crisis. “Where do you want ‘em?”
“Just... inside, I guess,” I said, already dreading the tetris puzzle this was about to become. I unlocked the front door and stepped back as he grabbed the first dolly loaded with boxes.
By the time he’d finished, my living room looked like a warehouse. Boxes were stacked three high in some places, creating a maze that left only narrow pathways to navigate. I signed for the delivery, gave the driver a fifty-dollar bill, and watched the truck pull away, leaving me alone with what appeared to be Xavier’s entire life packed up and shipped to rural Texas.
I picked up the nearest box—labeled “Kitchen Essentials (Copper Cookware)”—and nearly threw my back out. Who the hell needed copper cookware this heavy? I set it down more carefully and spotted another labeled “Bathroom (Skincare—DO NOT FREEZE).”
A laugh escaped me despite my exhaustion. This was so quintessentially Xavier. Even his moving boxes had specific care instructions. Also, it was nearly June. Was he expecting an apocalyptic ice storm or something? Then again, after the tornado, he probably didn’t know what to expect.
I spent the next two hours just trying to create walkable paths through the house. The boxes seemed to multiply the more I moved them. By the time I’d cleared enough space to at least reach the kitchen and bedroom, my shoulders were screaming and sweat had soaked through my shirt.
My stomach growled, reminding me I’d skipped breakfast to be here for the delivery. I glanced at my watch. It was just past noon. Dolly’s diner would still be serving lunch, and I could really go for something greasy and deep-fried.
I grabbed my keys and headed out, my truck a welcome reprieve from the box fortress that had become my home. The drive to the dinner gave me a couple minutes to think about what all those boxes meant. Xavier was really doing this. He was really moving here, to Sagebrush, to be with me.
It all still felt surreal.
I pulled into the parking lot of Dolly’s diner and killed the engine, sitting there for a moment longer than necessary. Through the window, I could see the usual lunch crowd—ranchers, a few truckers, some of the construction crew still working on rebuilding after the tornado. Normal. Familiar. Everything Xavier’s boxes weren’t.
The bell chimed as I pushed through the door, and Dolly looked up from behind the counter. Her eyes narrowed immediately.
“You look like hell,” she announced, loud enough for half the diner to hear.
“Good to see you too, Dolly,” I said, sliding onto a stool at the counter. Every muscle in my body was protesting the movement.
