Page 35 of Flint

I grab the laundry from the dryer and move to the bedroom. It’s not even my bedroom. It’s his bedroom that he gave up for me without complaint. I shake my head. I can’t keep twisting myself up in knots.

Dumping the laundry on the bed, I quickly sort through it, looking for my comfy underwear that are faded and frayed. I find a couple of his T-shirts, the ones he normally sleeps in and grab them. Maybe I take a big inhale, trying desperately to memorize his scent.

Irritated with myself, I stalk to the dresser and shove the shirts in there. Of course, they catch on something, and I have to take the whole thing out. I get all the fabric back into the overflowing drawer that he never organizes, pausing when I feel something hard beneath a shirt.

My breath catches when I realize it’s a ring box. For a moment, I wonder about ex-girlfriends then worry that he’s seeing other people. But his words come back to me. First love.

I probably shouldn’t, but I open it. I gasp the moment I see the vintage diamond ring. It’s a beautiful engagement ring, the kind a cowboy could easily spend thousands on.

I feel Flint’s presence behind me and close my eyes. Once again, I didn’t even hear him come in. “I’m scared.”

“I know, and I won’t ask you to slide this ring on your finger until you're one hundred percent sure. But while I'm waiting for you to decide, would you do me a favor?”

I think of all the things he’s done for me and for the boys, the way he’s chosen to be there for all of us. He hasn’t asked for anything in return, and I want so badly to show him that I care. “What’s that?”

“Would you wear it on your necklace? I want to see it on you, to know it’s at least a possibility in your eyes,” his voice cracks, the raw hope in his tone cutting me open.

“Promise you'll be gentle with all of our hearts.” It’s not a request. It’s a plea from a woman who’s realized it’s too late. There’s no taking back my heart from Flint. I’ve already given it to him. I’m just not ready to admit it out loud quite yet, and I think he knows it too.

“You can count on it,” he says the words solemnly, like he’s taking an oath and knows the importance of what he’s just given me.

His fingers ghost along my neck as they work the clasp open. I slide the ring on it then move to the mirror behind his door. I stare at my reflection, loving the way it looks against my skin and how it feels to know he’s claiming me.

He slides his arms around my body and presses a soft kiss to my temple. “Don’t fear the future. Good things are coming.”

I turn my head toward him, our breaths mingling. His kiss tastes of hope and new beginnings and a life that doesn’t hurt anymore. I run my tongue along his, groaning when his hands tighten on my hips, kneading my flesh.

He lifts his head. “We’re not doing that, but I will hold you through the night.”

Chapter 16

Ronnie

“Is something wrong?” Flint asks when he steps onto the back patio. He tugs the sliding glass door closed behind himself. Last night, Flint gave me his ring, and we slept in his bed. He held me through the night, just like he promised. I woke up feeling lighter than I have in months, maybe years.

We haven’t had a chance to see each other all day. He was up early for his farm chores. I know he was able to swing by and see the boys for a few minutes this afternoon, but he quickly got called out to help with another crisis. The thing about the ranch is there’s always something happening and someone that needs assistance. He wasn’t even able to get away for dinner. But he did come in after to play with the boys a bit before wishing them goodnight.

“No, nothing’s wrong,” I tell him, suddenly shy now that he’s here. He has a cushioned bench, and it’s perfectly placed under the shade of a tree draped in fairy lights. The cicadas are buzzing, and the breeze is rustling through the grass.

“And the boys are okay?”

“The boys are in bed now, and Grandma is at the kitchen table, watching Sylvester defeat more bad guys.”

He’s quiet, clearly trying to figure out why I sent him a text message telling him to meet me outside.

“I just wanted to hang out with you for a few minutes,” I say, not sure why I feel nervous. This isn’t exactly a date.

“You wanted to hang out?” He repeats, and he looks so delighted that it breaks my heart a little bit.

“Just you and me,” I clarify. “I love having the kids around and my grandma, but sometimes, I want you all to myself.”

“You can have me. All of me.” He crosses the patio and takes a seat on the bench.

I slide next to him and put my head on his shoulder. He threads our fingers together, making a soft noise of contentment that echoes exactly how I feel.

I don’t know how long we sit together in silence for. I only know that it’s the best part of my day. It’s amazing to be with someone whose presence soothes me, who calms me just by sitting down and holding my hand.

“I want to take you out on a date,” he finally murmurs.