"Neither should you."
My throat closes.
I take one step closer. Not touching. Close enough that she'd have to tilt her head up to keep looking at me, and she does.
"I want you. I want you in that cabin. I want you in Reno. I want you wherever you are and I want to drive to you when you're not with me. You took that job. You should take that job. You're good at it and you deserve it and it matters. I'll meet you in the middle. I'll take the job in Carson City Parker mentionedsix months ago. Coordinator role. I'll still run search and rescue. I'll be home two nights a week to split wood like a normal person. I'll keep the cabin. I'll get a place down here. I'll do whatever the hell you want me to do. I am done deciding things for you, Delilah."
She's crying now. Quiet. Hand pressed flat over her mouth.
"Hawk."
"I love you. I've loved you since you asked me if I was staring at you or just all people. I was staring at you. It was a you-specific policy. It still is."
A laugh breaks out of her. Half sob.
"You remember that."
"I remember everything."
She drops the hand from her mouth.
Drops the cane. I catch it before it hits the pavement, press it back into her grip, and she uses the other hand to grab the front of my jacket.
Pulls.
I bend.
Her mouth lands on mine in the middle of a Reno sidewalk at one oh three on a Tuesday and I don't care that there are people walking past us and I don't care that her messenger bag is crushed between us and I don't care about anything except that she's kissing me back.
When she lets go of my jacket she's still crying.
"You're an idiot."
"I know."
"You hurt me."
"I know."
"You're taking me to lunch and you're telling me the coordinator job pays better than the ranger station and you're going to tell Ghost I'm coming home this weekend."
"Yes ma'am."
"And next weekend."
"Yes ma'am."
"And every weekend that isn't a grand jury weekend for the next three weeks. After that we're figuring out what life looks like. Together. Like adults who aren't afraid."
"Yes ma'am."
Her forehead lands against my collarbone.
I wrap both arms around her. Careful of the ribs, even though the ribs are healed. Some habits don't leave.
"Hawk."
"Yeah."
