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“Maverick….”

Her pussy tightens around my cock as she comes. “Well, that was an unexpected bonus.”

I ease off of her. “Back in a second. Let me take care of the condom.” I head into the bathroom and when I return, she’s sitting up on the pool table. Her hair cascades around her, falling to her shoulders in a tangled mess. Her lips are swollen, her skin flushed. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

“Now that I know what you look like naked, I’ll never get any work done,” I say.

She crawls to the end of the table and I help her down. “Same here.”

I pass her clothes to her, then get dressed. “I want to talk to you about something,” I say.

“I don’t have time right now.” She waves me away. “I promised to meet Emberlynn.” She pulls her hair into a ponytail, gives me a quick kiss, then is out the door like she can’t bear to hear what I want to say.

I wonder if she’s acting this way because she thinks what I want to say is bad news. Given the way her father behaved and her ex’s betrayal and I can understand that.

Still, there are so many things that I want to say to her. Stuff I want to straighten out. I’m hoping she doesn’t think I’m a hit-n-run kind of guy. But then again, if I tell her I’ve already got forever on my mind, she might balk at that.

Tell me it’s too soon. Tell me I’m not the one for her. I wish that the heart came with an instruction manual on what to do when you fall in love because I’m afraid I’ll botch everything.

I clean up the paint and put away the tools that she left out, then work on replacing the damaged drywall behind the office door. Kyra left me a list of things she wanted fixed and none of the tasks will take that long to complete. But I’m slow walking the repairs so I stay in Tempest’s company if she kicks me to the curb.

Being around her might give me a chance to plead my case.

When I’m done, I clean up the drywall dust on the floor, then lock the door and head home. As I pass Kyra’s house, there aren’t any lights on. I was hoping she might have returned by now so I could try again to talk to her.

I reach home and thankfully, the ranch hand has already finished the evening chores. All I need to do is take a shower and relax with something to eat. Except I can’t. After I shower, my stomach is tied in too many knots for me to be able to eat anything.

I’ve got to tell her the truth. If I can’t talk to Tempest face-to-face, then I’ll just tell her through the pen pal messaging. No…I’ll do it the old-fashioned way. With a letter.

I search the house but don’t have any stationery. What I do find is spiral notebook, so I tear some sheets of paper from it and sit down at the kitchen table.

I’m not a polished kind of guy. I don’t know poetry or words that she might find memorable. All I can do is pour my heart out on the paper and hope she can read between the lines.

Taking a deep breath, I begin.

Dear Tempest/Sunflower,

I don’t want to keep anything from you, which is why I’m writing. I’m pretty sure that I’m your Midnight Cowboy. That’s why I asked you the questions last time. I was trying to confirm that. It’s why I was trying to talk to you at the pool hall.

What my heart says in this letter might be a big surprise to you. Truthfully, it caught me off guard too. Mainly because I didn’t recognize what I was really feeling about you, what I’ve felt all along, until recently.

I never imagined that our history of verbal sparring was anything more than us just arguing. I was so sure that you drove me crazy, and I know you felt that way about me, too.

There are certain things about you that stick in my mind. Like the first time we met and crashed our bicycles together. I remember the summer I saw you when you were fifteen.

You were leaning against the hood of your mom’s car and you glanced at me. I thought someone touched me with an electric cattle prod.

Being young and foolish, I wrongly assumed that feeling was anger about what happened between our families.

Two years ago, when you were at the bonfire celebration, you were laughing with some guy, and I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. I didn’t want him to be standing by you, saying stuff to make you laugh. My head felt so sluggish I thought I was coming down with something.

Then last Christmas, you drove to town to bring your aunt’s gifts. The two of you were in Perks & Buns. I couldn’t look away from you. You’d tucked your hair behind your ear, and I noticed you were wearing gold butterfly earrings. You blew on a cup of cocoa to cool it down. I was blown away by how mesmerizing you were.

I know you probably remember that because I said something snarky and you said something snarky right back. But when I think about it, I never said any of that stuff just to get under your skin.

I wanted your attention. I wanted to be in your circle. Part of your conversations. I wanted to be the one receiving your smiles, the one you hung out with. If I weren’t so boneheaded, I would have figured all this out sooner.

I know telling you all this comes out of left field, but I won’t lie to you about being your pen pal and I won’t lie to you about my feelings.