Page 42 of Home Is Where You Are

I wasn’t going to read too much into it.

She just needed comfort, and I was here.

The embrace meant nothing.

But it meant everything.

She felt just right in my arms. Even though I would likely regret it come morning, I held her as we walked back to her vehicle.

We got to the Jeep and the moment was broken once we got inside.

Ainsleigh stayed on her side, and I stayed on mine.

Dylan plugged his phone into the charger and put in the ranch’s address and put the Jeep in reverse.

I didn’t take my eyes off her the whole way back to the ranch. Her head remained against the window, her body so still I thought she’d fallen asleep.

We pulled into the driveway, and she surprised me when she sat up as soon as the vehicle was in park.

The song softly playing from the speakers just happened to be our song. The universe was against me. I tried not to tense or show any emotion. She didn’t need me to bring it up now.

“Don’t shut the Jeep off, Dylan. Can you turn it up?” Ainsleigh softly asked, her head turned toward mine. Our eyes met, and my heart rate accelerated.

I watched her hand shake as she fumbled with the door handle, but a few seconds later she pulled the latch and climbed out.

Dylan and Aspen and I all followed suit.

They both hugged Ainsleigh and she told them goodnight as they reluctantly left us to go inside.

I didn’t know if I should walk away as well. As much as I hated it, I didn’t know the Ainsleigh who stood in front of me right now. She’d been so closed off since her return, when she was so carefree before both our hearts were shattered.

I should turn and walk toward my room above the barn, but my feet seemed to have a mind of their own because instead of walking away, I walked toward her.

She looked up at the sky, and I’d give anything to know what her thoughts were.

“The stars are beautiful tonight,” she whispered as she continued staring above.

“Yeah, they are,” I agreed, but I wasn’t looking at the stars. I couldn’t look away from her.

“Dance with me,” she whispered so low I almost didn’t hear her.

Her gaze slowly moved from looking at the stars to over at me.

Her expression lit by the moonlight showed vulnerability.

I wanted to ask if she was okay, but words failed me.

I couldn’t resist having her back in my arms, so against my better judgment, because when it came to her I didn’t have any, I pulled her into my arms.

We swayed to the remainder of our song as the singer sang about how he must be doing something right. Nothing had felt right since she left until this moment with her. I'd hold onto her being in my arms, for however brief it might last, long after she decided to leave.

And I swear I heard her sigh the moment in the song the singer mentioned the woman letting out the perfect sigh. Only he was referring to something else entirely.

I pulled her in closer to me and rested my head on top of hers, relishing how perfect she felt in my arms. No matter how hard I tried to convince myself I couldn’t have her, my heart didn’t want to listen. My heart pounded in my chest so hard I was sure she could feel it.

The song came to an end, and she stiffened in my hold.

She was about to shatter the hope filled in my chest, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.