Page 83 of Puppy Kisses

“Of course I’m okay. I mean, I’d be better if my silly dog would stop running off, but that’s your fault.”

Adam had been so sure that disaster awaited him at the end of this journey—that he’d swoop in to find Dawn hurt, damaged, even dead—that he wasn’t sure what to do next. Overwhelming relief at finding her intact was there, obviously, but even stronger was the feeling that he was being given another chance. There were hundreds of ways this might have ended differently. Dawn could have been stung by a bee. She could have tripped on one of the rabbit holes that were Adam’s personal nemesis. She could have been attacked by coyotes or even decided that she’d had enough of country living and escaped this place as fast and as far as her feet would take her.

But she was okay. She was alive. She was here.

Despite everything, she washere.

“My fault?” he echoed, almost laughing. Of course it was his fault. He’d done nothing but push this woman away from the outset. In all that time, it had never occurred to him that Dawn couldn’t be pushed. He’d said it so many times—she did what she wanted, when she wanted it. She never let anyone dictate her actions. She was one hundred percent herself, and it was the most beautiful thing about her.

And she’s still here.

“Of course it is,” Dawn replied. “Gigi only runs over to your house because you had the audacity to make her fall in love with you. What else did you expect?”

Adam’s throat felt tight with fear and longing, with the clamping sensation of a love he’d never be able to shake. He wanted to speak, but the words were stuck. “Dawn…” he managed.

“And what is all this nonsense about tying things around my neck? What are you accusing me of doing now? From all I can tell, I’m standing on my own land. In fact,you’rethe one who’s trespassing right now.” There was a pause and a shuffle of feet. “Actually, how did you get here? I don’t see Uncle anywhere.”

“Dawn.”

“I know. You don’t have to say it. I’ve ruined your life, and you’d like nothing more than to see the back of me. Don’t worry. I got the hint.” She laughed, a sharp edge rendering it brittle. “I mean, I didn’ttakethe hint, obviously, but I got it.”

“Dawn.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Adam, so you might as well reconcile yourself to having me as a neighbor.” There was a challenge in her voice but also kindness. Warmth. Honesty. All those things that made Adam fall for her in the first place. She was giving him the truth with no varnish on it—and leaving it entirely up to him to decide what to do.

Because that was what you did when you respected someone. That was what you did when you loved them.

“I won’t force myself into your company, and I’ll do my best not to heavetoomany lovelorn sighs when you’re near, but I like it here. I like the scenery. I like the people. I like knowing my sisters are nearby but not so close that it gets in the way of their own lives.”

“Dawn.”

“Would you stop saying my name like it’s a bad word?” She grunted her irritation. “I get it, Adam—you don’t want me. It’s fine. Ithurts, obviously, and I wish things had ended differently between us, but I’ve never been one to howl at fate. I know you don’t believe me, but I can learn to live in a world where we’re just neighbors. I can and I will and Iam.”

The vise in his throat unclamped, and he gave in to the powerful urge to reach for her. She was standing much closer than he anticipated, that tiny dress and the hot flush of her skin practically rubbing up against him. Even though he’d aimed for her arms, he hit her waist. The fabric bunched under his touch, sliding up over her body in that oh-so-familiar way.

“Yes, but I can’t,” he said, his fingers digging desperately into her sides. “I can’t and I won’t and I’mnot.”

“You can’t what?” she asked.

There were so many ways to answer that question. He couldn’t live in a world where they were just neighbors. He couldn’t stop thinking about her—her laugh and her touch and the simple joy of having her near. He couldn’t imagine a lifetime spent without her in his arms.

“Do you know why I came running over here?” he asked. Without waiting for an answer, he continued, “Zeke thought you might have been stung by a bee. Abee. I was ready to burn this whole place to the ground, to give up everything I’ve ever owned, to cast aside every cow and every piece of hay, all to murder one fucking bee.”

“That seems a little drastic. You love this ranch.”

His grip on her tightened to the point of desperation. He had to be hurting her, but she didn’t make a whimper of complaint. He remembered what she’d told him once—that she’d always tell him when he stepped over the line—and dared to drop a kiss to her lips.

For once, she wasn’t expecting it. Her lips were slightly parted, as though she’d been on the verge of speech, so he took shameless advantage. Knowing this might be the last time he ever felt her mouth opening under his, he took stock of every breath, every taste, every brush of her tongue against his.

She tasted like honey, which seemed ironic considering the panic that had driven him out here, but he leaned into it—into her—his arms holding her as though he feared to let her go.

“I loveyou, Dawn Vasquez,” he murmured against her mouth. “More than this ranch. More than life itself.”

“Oh.”

That was it. One word, one syllable, one breath.Oh.It was hardly the encouragement a man wanted to hear when making a declaration like this one, but he didn’t care. Dawn had always been brave enough to say exactly what was on her mind. The least he could do was return the favor.

“I know I should have said this weeks ago—monthsago—but I’m only just now realizing it,” he said. “What it means to love someone this much, how much my happiness depends on yours. I think that’s why it scared me so much—whyyouscare me so much. If you asked me to, I’d pack everything up and elope with you in Las Vegas. I’d join a cult in the backwoods of Idaho. I’d follow you on a circus tour through Europe. I thought…”