No rules. No system. No chart on the refrigerator dictating when I’m allowed to want things. Just us, with his body close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating off him.
“Ethan!” Daniel’s voice cuts through the dusk from across the property. Clipped and commanding, the tone of a man who expects to be heard the first time. “Need you at the north gate. Sensor’s tripped again.”
Ethan’s jaw tightens. His eyes close briefly, and in that second, I see the thing he’ll never say: that the man who always goes when someone calls has, for the first time, a reason to stay exactly where he is.
But he’ll go anyway.
“I’ll be back.” His hand slides from my waist, and the absence is a physical event. He steps back, holding my gaze for a beat too long. “Go inside. Maggie’s got dinner.”
I nod because my voice is stuck somewhere in my throat.
I watch him go as he turns toward the north pasture, the lean silhouette, the stride that’s putting distance between us. If he doesn’t go now, he won’t leave. I know this the way I know the sky is blue and the oceans are deep. Because I knowhim. I lookup and meet his gaze, thrown back over his shoulder, and realize that I feel the same.
I’ve read a hundred love stories, and none of them told me it would feel like this. Like walking into a room you’ve been dreaming about and discovering it’s real and the door doesn’t lock behind you.
Ethan’s taste is still on my tongue, his voice still in my chest, as I force my shaky legs to move toward the house.
