“I know who you are. I fell in love with who you are.”
Her eyes softened. Then she narrowed them. “Now tell me what you’re hiding.”
I blinked. “What?”
“You’ve had a look on your face since last night. The same look you had when you were planning the filming deal at the ranch, like you know something I don’t and you’re enjoying it.” She pointed at me with her coffee cup. “What are you planning?”
I tried to look innocent. Failed spectacularly.
“I want to take you somewhere,” I said.
“Where?”
“Colorado.”
Her face changed. The softness tightened into something wary, a flicker of the old Rose, the one who flinched at hope because hope had always been the setup for devastation.
“Why?” she asked.
“Because I want to show you something.” We locked eyes. “Trust me.”
She studied me for a long moment. I watched the war play out behind her eyes, the part of her that wanted to say yes fighting with the part that was afraid of what yes might cost.
“Okay,” she said finally. “Show me.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
ROSE
I knewwe were going to Colorado because Graham told me.
I didn’t know the rest.
The flight from JFK to Denver was three and a half hours. Graham held my hand the entire time, not loosely, not casually, like he was nervous about something and didn’t want me to notice.
I noticed.
“You’re sweating,” I said.
“I run warm.”
“You’re sweating through your shirt, Graham.”
“It’s a warm plane.”
“It’s sixty-two degrees.”
He looked at me. “Can you just trust me? For a few more hours?”
“I trust you.” I squeezed his hand. “I’m also observing that you’re sweating like a man who’s about to either propose or confess to a crime.”
A flicker crossed his expression. He turned to look out the window.
Interesting.
We landedin Denver and picked up a rental. A truck. Graham didn’t strike me as a truck person. He was a Land Rover person, a beat-up Defender person, the kind of man who wanted something that looked like it had survived an expedition. A truck was practical. A truck was for hauling things.
My stomach tightened.
