She considers this. "I don't know yet. But I think I want to figure it out slowly. Maybe start with that bookkeeping job you mentioned. Get to know the town, the people. Find my place here."
"And us?" The question slips out before I can stop it. "What about us?"
"Us," she repeats, and I can hear the smile in her voice. "I like the sound of that. I think... We get to know each other beyond the physical stuff. Though the physical stuff is really, really good."
"Really good," I agree, grinning.
"But I want more than that," she continues. "I want to know your stories. Want to learn what makes you laugh, what pisses you off, what you dream about when you let yourself dream. Want to understand who Colt Sullivan really is beneath the confident rancher exterior."
"And I want to know you," I tell her honestly. "Want to know everything about Harper. The good stuff, the bad stuff, all of it."
She tilts her head up to look at me. "Even if some of it is messy?"
"Especially if it's messy." I cup her face with my free hand. "Harper, I'm not looking for perfect. I'm looking for real. And you're the most real thing I've found in a long time."
Her eyes get a little misty, and she blinks rapidly. "You can't just say things like that."
"Why not? It's true."
"Because it makes me want to believe in this. In us. And I'm scared."
"Me too," I admit. "I've never done this before. Never wanted to actually try with someone. But with you? I want to try. Want to see where this goes."
"One day at a time," she reminds me softly.
"One day at a time," I repeat.
We stay like that for another hour, just talking quietly about everything and nothing. She tells me about growing up in Denver, about her dad who she lost, about the dreams she had before everything fell apart. I tell her even more about Frank, about my brothers, both blood and chosen, about the ranch that's been my whole life.
And somewhere in that hour, something changes. Something settles. Like we're both realizing that this, whatever this is, might actually be something worth holding onto.
"I should probably get back to the motel," Harper says eventually, though she makes no move to get up. "It's getting late."
"Or," I counter, "you could stay here a little longer. The night's not over yet."
She laughs. "And do what? Fuck again?"
"Maybe," I say with a grin. "Or we could just sit here. Watch the fireflies. Talk some more. Whatever you want."
"Whatever I want?"
"Whatever you want."
She thinks about it for a moment, then settles more firmly against me. "I want to stay here. Just like this. For as long as we can."
"Then that's what we'll do."
So, we stay. We stay until the fireflies start to disappear, until the moon moves across the sky, until we're both getting tired but neither of us wants to be the first to suggest leaving.
"Colt?" Harper says sleepily.
"Yeah?"
"I'm glad I came to Blackwater Falls."
"Me too, sweetheart. Me too."
When we finally do leave the park, walking slowly through the empty streets toward her motel, I'm already thinking about tomorrow. About seeing her again, about spending more time together, about all the possibilities that lie ahead.
