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“Count on it, Jane,” he promises, and somehow, I believe him.
The world slows to a near standstill as Texas’s arms encircle me, the rough leather of his jacket pressing against my back. I lean into him, our bodies fitting together like missing pieces of the same puzzle.
“Look at that,” he murmurs, his breath a ghostly whisper dancing over my ear. His finger points toward the horizon, where the sun is making its lazy descent. “It’s like the sky is on fire.”
“Beautiful,” I say and it’s not just the sunset that has my heart fluttering—it’s this man, this moment, everything.
“Never gets old, does it?” He tightens his grip ever so slightly, grounding me.
“Never,” I agree, my voice barely above a hush.
We stay like that for an eternity that passes in mere minutes until the first star dares to twinkle in the deepening blue above us. It’s a signal, somehow, that time is moving again, urging us on from this perfect pause.
“Come on,” Texas says, gently guiding me down the hill. “Let’s head back before it gets too late.”
We walk hand in hand, the dying light casting long shadows across our path. As we approach the bar, the familiar sounds of laughter and clinking glasses greet us like an old friend. Pete is there, behind the counter, his eyes lighting up when he spots us.
“Evening, Janie, Tex,” he calls out, a knowing smile touching the edges of his lips.
“Hey, Pete,” I reply, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks.
Texas leads me over to a quiet corner table, and we sit, still close, still connected. Around us, the bar continues its nightly dance of drinks and dreams, but it feels distant, like background noise to the symphony playing in my chest.
“Today was...” I start, but words, for once, fail me.
“Special,” Texas finishes for me, his gaze holding mine with an intensity that sends shivers down my spine.
“More than that,” I admit. “I didn’t know days like this could exist, not for me.”
“Jane, you deserve all the days like this,” he says, his thumb brushing over the back of my hand. “You deserve the world.”
I want to believe him, to throw caution to the wind and ride off into the sunset like the heroines in those stories I used to read. But life’s taught me that fairy tales are dangerous. Still, here with Texas, I feel like maybe, just maybe, I could allow myself a sliver of that dream.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“Thank you,” he echoes. “Jane.” His voice is a low drawl. “This town may have brought us together, but I want to take you away from here. Will you come home with me?”
My heart stutters in my chest, a bird suddenly frantic against its cage. Home. The word reverberates through me, stirring up dust in corners of my soul I forgot existed. I glance at the neon sign above the bar, buzzing like a lazy bee against the twilight seeping through the windows. This is my home. Or it was, until Texas came along.
“Tex, I have the bar, a home, and a life here. Responsibilities that tether me to this spot like roots. I can’t just...”
“Jane.” Pete’s voice cuts through my thoughts, gruff and gentle all at once. He’s overheard, of course he has, the man misses nothing. “I’ll look after everything. You deserve a little happiness.”
His eyes meet mine across the room, brown and deep as the earth, and I see not just permission but encouragement—no, more than that—a commandment. Pete knows about carrying burdens, the weight of them bowing your back until you think you might break. And now, he’s offering to take a piece of mine, maybe because he knows what it is to long for freedom.
“Thank you, Pete,” I say, my words barely above a whisper, but they travel sure and true to where he stands sentinel behind the bar.
Texas’ hand covers mine, his grip firm and certain. “What do you say, darlin’?” he asks, the timbre of his voice promising adventure, promising a life.
I look at him, and I feel the pull, fierce and undeniable. With Texas, responsibility doesn’t feel like tragedy, it feels like family. And isn’t that what I’ve been searching for? Isn’t that what we both need?
“Yes,” I say with conviction feeling the word lift me, light and free. “Yes, I’ll come with you.”
“Then let’s ride into love, Jane,” he teases, the ghost of a wink in his gaze.
“Riding into love with a biker in my bed,” I echo, my lips curving into a smile that feels like the beginning of something great.
It’s reckless and wonderful, and for the first time in a long time, I’m not afraid of falling, I’m rushing toward it.
We stand, our chairs scraping softly against the worn wooden floor. His fingers lace with mine and I think about how a biker has come to share my bed, how riding into love was the last thing I expected, and how now, I can’t imagine any other destination. Pete gives us a nod, a silent blessing from one protector to another, and I realize that this town might have been the setting for my sorrows, but it’s also where I found salvation.
We step out into the cool night air, I squeeze Texas’ hand, and together, we walk forward, ready to turn the page to the next chapter of a story that’s ours to write. The town shrinks away, its lights dimming as we speed down the open road. There’s something liberating about the blur of scenery whizzing by, the cool air nipping at my cheeks. For a moment, I close my eyes, letting the sensations wash over me, the rumble of the bike, the warmth of Texas’s body against mine, the endless possibilities stretching out before us.
My mind drifts to Pete, Mandy, Billy, my makeshift family, who held me together when I thought I’d crumble. They’re part of the fabric of who I am, threads of love and responsibility woven tightly. But now, tragedy has given way to something new, something worth holding onto as we leave my past behind.
The End.
