I can’t stop the laugh that bursts out of me, shaky but real. “You really are so in love with me.”
“Yeah.” His grin softens, the tease fading into something tender. “Utterly, hopelessly, pathetically in love with you.”
I sip again, needing something to do with the sudden lump in my throat.
We finish our drinks slowly, the conversation drifting in and out, comfortable in the way only we can be. Carter doesn’t rush me. He never does. He sits there, making me feel like the world isn’t as heavy as it was an hour ago.
He finally stands, offering me his hand. I slide my hand into his, and he pulls me up with that effortless strength of his, tucking me close under his arm as we step out into the warm evening air.
Downtown is quiet, storefronts glowing softly under the last streaks of sunset. My iced matcha cup swings empty in my hand, condensation dripping onto my wrist. Carter takes it from me without a word, tossing it into the trash can by the curb before lacing our fingers together again.
We walk side by side toward his truck, gravel crunching under our boots. The air smells like honeysuckle and asphalt, sticky and sweet, and for the first time all day, I feel like I can breathe.
At the passenger door, he pauses and turns to face me. His hand rises to cup my cheek, rough palm warm against my skin, his thumb brushing away whatever’s left of my tears. His blue eyes meet mine.
“Tomorrow’ll be a better day, darlin’,” he says softly. “I’ll make sure of it.”
My chest aches, but in a good way. I nod, leaning into his hand, letting him press a kiss to my forehead before he opens the door for me.
As I climb into his truck, I believe him because he’s Carter, and when he makes a promise, the whole world bends to keep it.
CHAPTER 11
Carter
Catalina walks into the kitchen, hair messy from sleep, still barefoot.
She is a vision in the morning, and I’ll never get tired of looking at her.
She squints at me with her groggy eyes.
“Get ready, darlin’,” I tell her, leaning against the counter. “Takin’ you somewhere today.”
Her eyes narrow. “Somewhere? I hope it’s shoppingggg.”
“Trust me,” I say, sipping slowly to hide the grin tugging at my mouth. “You’ll like it.”
Thirty minutes later, I’ve lost all ability to breathe.
She steps out of the bedroom looking like a fucking angel,myangel. Her legs are bare in Daisy Duke shorts, with her bedazzled boots catching the light with every step. A white, skin-tight tee hugs her curves, the wordscowboy pillowsstamped in bold red across her chest as loose waves spill down her back, and her wedding ring gleams gold.
No makeup. Just her. Fresh-faced and glowing.
Mine.
“Jesus Christ,” I rasp, setting my mug down before I drop it.
Her grin is wicked. “What? Too much?”
“Not nearly enough.” My voice comes out rough, honest. “You’re killin’ me, baby.”
She laughs, dramatically, grabbing her bag. “Clearly you’re still breathing. Where are you dragging me, babe?”
“Opal Springs,” I tell her, snagging my hat and keys.
Her brows lift. “What’s in Opal Springs?”
“Rodeo.” I push the screen door open, guiding my hand at the small of her back. “Figured my wife oughta see one.”
