He pulled me back into his arms and walked me backward into the house. The plant was forgotten on the rail somewhere, his duffel on the porch, and his arms around my waist.
He pulled close and kissed me on the nose, then leaned in, hands lifting to cup my face with a gentleness that made my knees buckle. His thumbs brushed away the tears on my cheeks.
When his lips met mine, it was nothing like the frantic, terrified kisses before the airport. This one was slow.
The world narrowed to the warmth of his mouth, the scratch of stubble against my skin, his breath mingling with mine, and his hands holding me against him. Snow from his hair fell in wet droplets, and my hands shook as I grabbed the back of his jacket. Cold air nipped at my ears, but the kiss was all heat.
Austin smiled against my mouth. The kiss deepened.
When we finally pulled back, our foreheads rested together, the door still open, letting snow fall inside.
“You’re really here,” I said, catching my breath.
“I’m really here,” he said. “And I’m really not leaving again. Not unless you kick me out. And maybe not even then.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I murmured.
We stood there for a moment, just breathing the same air. Then reality nudged.
“The bonfire,” I said suddenly. “Everyone’s coming over in about an hour. The whole town. Sue. Cassie. Mason. They’re expecting soup and rolls and…”
Austin kissed me again to stop me from rambling. I didn’t mind.
When he pulled back, his eyes crinkled. “I know. Mason told me when I texted him and told him I was coming home. It was my idea, hoping you’d take me back. I even booked a room at the inn, just in case.”
“You thought of everything except one thing.” I looked at him, eyebrows raised. “Did you really think I’d let you stay at the inn?”
I kissed him again for good measure, and because I wanted to. We carried his duffel inside, set the plant on the kitchen windowsill, and then headed out toward the pasture.
The pile of scrap lumber sat where Duke had stacked it earlier, a rough heap of broken boards, tree limbs, stumps, anything that would burn.
Austin pulled me close. His warmth felt like home.
He tipped his head, acknowledging a far point.
Headlights appeared at the lane. First, Sue’s SUV, then Mason and Cassie’s truck, followed by Duke’s old Ford, and a smattering of smaller cars. Within thirty minutes, our pasture was full.
“Who knows you’re here?” I asked, shivering a little.
“Just Mason and Janet.” He winced. “I didn’t want to make it a big deal in case you sent me packing.”
“As if that would ever happen. But I thought the bonfire was to burn the last of the barn.”
“That too, but as soon as it’s over, I want to hear about the grand opening and all your patients. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.” Austin kissed my forehead.
“I know.” It wouldn’t do any good to tell him I’d been a miserable mess without him and almost didn’t open the clinic until spring. “But on the bright side,” I smiled so big my cheeks hurt, “here comes Sue.”
“Where did you want…” Sue froze mid-step, struggling to hold a giant pot. Her glasses slid down her nose.
“Austin James Adams,” she said slowly, using her librarian voice. “You’d better be real, or I have finally snapped.”
Austin lifted a hand. “Hey, Sue.”
She shoved the pot at Levi and marched straight toward him. She threw her arms around his middle and squeezed tight.
“Don’t you ever leave like that again,” she scolded into his coat. Her voice shook. “I’m so glad you’re back I could both cry and hit you.”
“I won’t, ma’am,” he said, his voice muffled. “I promise.”
