Page 151 of Buck ’Em Cowgirl

I swallowed, my throat thick. “T-the shame⁠—”

“I know how that feels, Fable,” he murmured. “Telling my dad, telling Dalton that I was done after the season? That I wasn’t a bull rider anymore? The shame of ending on an injury, instead of on my terms?” His jaw flexed, his thumb tracing slow, soothing circles over my skin. “I get it.”

I nodded weakly. “I know.”

I was exhausted. Completely drained. My body sagged, and I laid my head down on my arm, the wooden table cool against my overheated skin.

“You didn’t lose me.” From the corner of my eye, I saw him shift closer. “I know I’m not your parents, or the kids you thought you’d have one day, but I’m here. I’m real, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“I fucked up,” I whispered, the words barely there.

Beau reached up again, his calloused fingers brushing against my cheek, gently tilting my face toward him.

“I did too. I was too scared you were like my dad. Leaving before it got tough. Everyone I ever loved left me.” His voice thickened. “My dad left when things got hard. My mom left because she was sick.”

Pain flickered across his face, something old and deep that I recognized all too well.

I shook my head fiercely. “I would never.” My voice cracked as I realized I had, but I pushed through. “I-I’m sorry.”

I had no other words. Nothing that could undo the damage, nothing that could change the way my silence had probably hurt him.

I knew the feeling. Nothing anyone could say would erase the feeling of people always leaving you. I left him, just as everyone had left me too.

Beau studied me for a long moment, searching my face like he was trying to see inside me, trying to understand every piece I wasn’t saying.

I swallowed hard, my heart hammering as I dropped my gaze. “You don’t want someone like me anyway,” I whispered.

“You don’t get to be the judge of that, Fable.”

I let out a slow, shaky breath. “I cannot have children, Beau.” I forced myself to say it again, to put the truth between us with no way to take it back. “You told me you wanted to raise your kids on the ranch.”

His expression didn’t shift. “In a perfect world . . . is that something you’d want?”

I blinked. “What?”

“Kids.” His gaze softened, searching mine. “Would you want them?”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “I think that’s the hardest part. It was part of my dream too.”

“I’d still love to have children with you. We can foster, look into our options. If you want.” He exhaled. “And if you don’t? I still want to grow old on our ranch with you.” His voice quieted. “I want to be with you, Fable Morris.”

A sob ripped from my chest, my entire body trembling as I broke apart.

Because I didn’t deserve him.

Didn’t deserve someone so gentle, so good. Someone who would never make me feel small, never punish me for existing, never shove me down the stairs in a moment of rage.

“I’m not perfect, Beau,” I choked out, wiping at my damp cheeks. “I will fuck up again.”

He nodded without hesitation. “I will too. I’ll be too prideful sometimes or stubborn.”

A soft chuckle slipped out of me, the first one in what felt like forever.

He reached forward, gripped the back of my chair, and scraped it across the wooden floor, pulling me in closer until our knees touched.

I gasped with the sudden movement.

“Someone who is healing needs to be with someone who will protect them while they heal.” He brushed his fingers over my knuckles. “Let me protect you, so you can heal.”