Page 52 of Home to the Cowboy

“Headache,” June got out. “You didn’t have to stay.”

“Of course I had to. You cried a river last night, I thought you were never going to stop. Come on, sit up. Take this, it’ll help.”

Closing her eyes against the harsh light, June swallowed the pill before she laid back against the pillows. “What time is it?”

“Time for you to tell me why you’re back here and why you’ve been crying. I’ve never seen you like this.”

“I …” Her lip quivered and rolling her eyes, Abby joined her on the bed.

“No, you’re not going to cry again!” Abby nudged her shoulder. “Seriously, I can’t stand it. You’ve fallen in love with Dylan, haven’t you?”

“I don’t know!” June blubbered. “How do I know what I feel is love, Abby? You and I don’t know anything about love or relationships or family!”

“That’s not true. You and I love each other, we have a relationship and even though we don’t have the same blood, we’re always there for one another. Isn’t that what being a family is all about? I know loving someone romantically is different—not that I’ve experienced it. Romantic relationships and I have never worked out, but it’s also about caring about each other, looking out for each other. Just don’t ask me about the sexy stuff. Like you, I’ve never experienced anything remotely earth-shattering when kissing a guy …” She trailed off, staring at June. “You’ve actually had such an experience, haven’t you? I can tell. It’s written all over your face. Come on, spill.”

“Earth-shattering doesn’t begin to describe what I feel when Dylan … well, when we …” She couldn’t simply call it had sex because what had happened between them had been so much more.

“Aah, now I understand. He said maybe you’ve forgotten what you two had, and he talked about the way your bodies fit.” Frowning, she looked away. “And something about the manner you read each other’s needs. The word bliss was also used if I remember correctly.”

“He? Who said?”

“Your Dylan phoned early this morning while you were still sleeping.”

June sat up. “He phoned?”

“Yup. So what’s up with the two of you? You’re crying, he’s upset.”

“Oh, Abby, I don’t know,” she said touching the stone around her neck. “He made me feel things I haven’t thought was possible, but it may also just because he’s a great kisser. And living in Marietta, visiting the ranch … It was the strangest feeling, like I belong there, I feel at home there. Is the feeling real, though? It may not last, who knows? A month from now I may not even remember his name, let alone the way he kisses …”

Touching her lips, she remembered every sexy line of his mouth, the way he smelled, touched her. She never doubted that he wanted her—it was clear in every touch, every kiss, every look.

Chuckling, Abby got up. “If you need to declutter your closet, I’m your girl, but when it comes to matters of the heart, I have no clue how to help you. Give yourself a few weeks. See how you feel by then. If you still miss him; if you’re still clasping that stone around your neck, which if I had to take a wild guess, is from him; if you still get that stupid expression on your face when you talk about him; you’re obviously in love. And June?”

“What?”

“We’re not those helpless little girls we were way back when anymore. You’re allowed to leave Seattle, you’re allowed to be happy, and if Dylan Weston makes you happy, don’t you dare let him slip through your fingers.” Pretending to cool herself down with her hand, Abby grinned. “Now after all this talk about feelings and love, I’m hungry. Come on, wash your face, I’ve ordered food for your empty fridge, and we’ll make breakfast.”

As Abby turned to leave, June got up. “Abs?”

Abby looked over her shoulder at her. “Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Smiling, Abby walked toward the door. “Go and wash your face, you look terrible.”

“Love you too!” June smiled. After all this time, she knew this was Abby’s way of showing how much she cared. She’d never been one to display affection in any obvious way.

She could do what Abby suggested—see how she felt in a few weeks. Maybe that was all she needed to get over whatever this feeling inside her was. Maybe here in Seattle, far away from the Marietta bubble, she’d come down from whatever pink cloud she’d been living on.

Chapter Seventeen

Banging the door closed behind him, Dylan threw his hat on the table. Daisy whimpered and scampered away. Warily, she sneaked a looked at him from behind the couch.

Sighing, he crouched down. “Sorry, girl, I’m just …” Daisy wiggled closer, still not sure what was going on. “I don’t know what I am. I just miss her, you know?” Barking, Daisy jumped up against him. “Yeah, I know you do too.”

Stroking Daisy, he sighed again. It was Friday, a whole week since June had left and not a minute went by that he wasn’t thinking about her.

A truck stopped outside, and barking, Daisy charged toward the door. Grimacing, Dylan got up. Probably Cooper, only he had this effect on all animals.