“No,” I agreed, “but maybe it explains why I’m scared to like you.”
Her lips parted, then closed again. She looked away, gaze fixed on some point across the creek. “You’re not the only one with ghosts,” she murmured. “Mine just don’t leave notes.”
That line stuck with me, but I didn’t push. Just waited. Let the silence settle in around us again.
She drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “I had a bad breakup, too.”
My eyes flicked over to her, but I kept still.
“Different kind of bad, though,” she said, twisting at the blades of grass in front of her. “Less white dress and altar and more…packing all your shit up and leaving in the middle of the night.”
I didn’t move. Not physically, at least, but something inside of me did.
She hadn’t given me details, but I suddenly wanted them. What kind of man had her packing up and disappearing in the dead of night? I wanted to know. I wanted to understand what kind of damage she was carrying—maybe learn more about those ghosts of hers that didn’t leave notes like mine did. And not because it might help with this plan that was falling apart right before my eyes, but because she was sitting next to me—being raw and real and honest—and it made me the worst kind of bastard because…I wasn’t. Not raw. Not real, and definitely not honest. I’d come into this thinking I could play nice, dig up what I needed, and walk away without catching feelings.But somewhere between her sharp tongue and soft doe eyes, between the silences and the truth she never quite said, I’d actually started giving a real damn.
“There wasn’t really anyone left to say goodbye to, anyway,” she added quietly. “Not anymore.”
I knew without her saying that she was talking about her parents. “You really have no one?”
She shook her head, the motion small, as she brought her bottom lip between her teeth.And damn if that didn’t do something to me.
“My dad died of a heart attack two years ago. He was only fifty-six. Worked construction his whole life and barely took a day off.” Her voice wavered, and she blinked fast, like she was trying not to let her emotions show. “It hit my mom hard. They were one of those rare couples who actually loved each other, you know? But she just…completely unraveled after he was gone.” She pulled in a breath and let it out slowly. “She started sleeping all day and stopped eating. We fought a lot. I didn’t know how to help her, and I was grieving, too. I thought she’d come back from it eventually…” A bitter smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “But she didn’t.”
Andi didn’t elaborate—didn’t have to, and I didn’t need to ask. Because the truth of it was, no matter what had actually happened, it was obvious that her mom had died of a broken heart.
I swallowed, my throat suddenly tight, and before I could stop myself, I said quietly, “I can be someone.”
The second the words left my mouth, the air between us felt heavier, like it had soaked up every ounce of tension and was just waiting to explode. I hadn’t meant to say the words aloud, but now that they were out there, I didn’t want to take them back.
She blinked, like she didn’t know what to do with that. Or me.
“If you want me to be.”
“Zane…” she said, her expression wavering somewhere between brave and broken.
“I know you’re not staying,” I added quickly, and reached out without thinking, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. My hand lingered for half a second too long. Her skin was warm. Soft. And, to my surprise, she didn’t pull away. “But maybe when you go…you won’t have to leave like there’s no one to say goodbye to.”
Her watery eyes darted over my face as silence fell between us. I should’ve looked away. Should’ve backed off and given her space like I always did when things got too real. But this time, I didn’t move. Neither did she. Her gaze dipped to my mouth for just a second, and that was all it took. My pulse took off as I leaned in a little more, slow enough to give her an out but fast enough to feel like maybe I couldn’t stop myself.
“I don’t know if I’m any good at this,” she said, her voice soft and fragile as her breath ghosted over my lips.
“Good at kissin’?” I couldn’t help the intrigued amusement that tugged at my mouth. “Well, now I’mreallycurious.”
Her mouth lifted in the faintest smile, but it was shaky.
I brushed a knuckle under her chin, coaxing her eyes back to mine. “Do you trust me?”
A moment of hesitation passed between us before she nodded, small and quiet. Her lashes fluttered, then lowered, and in the breath that followed, I closed the distance. Our lips met—light, tentative, and then a little more. And whatever she thought she wasn’t good at? She was wrong.
Her lips parted against mine, warm and unsure, and when she sighed into me, I felt something unspool in my chest. I deepened the kiss just a little, guiding her and letting her find her rhythm. My hand slid to her waist, then up her back, and her fingers curled into the front of my shirt as I pulled her closer, holding her like maybe I could protect her from whatever it wasthat she left behind. Our mouths moved together with a heat I hadn’t expected—one that had clearly been building all this time, whether we’d admitted it or not.
The sharpclinkof reins snapping loose broke the moment.
Dolly let out a sharp snort and took a few steps back, her reins sliding the rest of the way off the branch I’d tied her to. Cash gave a startled shuffle beside her, jostling everything around them.
I swore under my breath and pulled back, just far enough to glance over my shoulder and assess the chaos.
“Damn horse,” I muttered, catching my breath and standing up fast as I processed what the hell I just did and went after Dolly—jaw tight, pulse still racing.
