Page 60 of Home Is Where You Are

“I’m just right for you, Ainsleigh Courtright. I’ll prove it to you until I take my last breath, if I have to,” he whispered just before I let sleep take me.

twenty-one

GENTRY

Sunlight beamed through the window rousing me from a beautiful dream.

Only I wished it wasn’t just a dream.

Ainsleigh and I were happy and together. We were living in our own home, and it felt so real. Only I knew it wasn’t.

There were still so many unanswered questions. So many things we still needed to discuss.

I wanted—no, needed to figure out a way to get Ainsleigh to open up to me to figure out where her head was at. But I also needed to figure out where my head was at. I needed to figure out what I truly wanted.

I had two choices.

I could fight for her, fight for us.

Or I could walk away and wonder for the rest of my life if I’d made the right choice.

I never thought I’d get a chance with her again.

And I was okay with that if she was happy.

Now that she was back and I’d gotten a small taste of her, I was conflicted.

I didn’t want my heart to get hurt again, but I didn’t know how I could stay away.

Oh, the conundrum I was in.

She stirred in my bed, and I wished I was lying next to her.

I rolled slightly and peered at the clock on the nightstand.

It was only a little after six in the morning, and a thought entered my mind.

I wanted to do something nice for her. Something that involved just the two of us.

After throwing on a pair of sweats and a white T-shirt, I slipped on my tennis shoes and made my way out of the loft.

I snuck into the house to find the kitchen empty just as I thought it would be. On the weekends, everyone in the family slept in since they had hired hands come in on Saturday and Sunday every week to feed the horses and do the guided tours and family activities.

I put coffee on to perk while I cooked the food. I whipped up bacon, eggs, and pancakes then cut strawberries, putting all the food in containers so that it was easier to carry back to the loft. I grabbed paper plates and utensils from the pantry that could easily be tossed in the trash when we were finished. I put the coffee into a thermos and grabbed packets of sugar and creamer that Lillian kept on hand for to-go cups.

I carried breakfast back to the loft, ready to surprise my girl.

I noticed Ainsleigh had rolled over on her side facing away from the door, still sleeping soundly, when I entered the loft.

I sat the tray on top of my dresser and got to work plating our food. I grabbed a couple Styrofoam cups and poured our coffee, making hers just the way she liked it. A lot of sugar and creamer with a little coffee. I’d never understand how she drank it this sweet, but who was I to say what her taste buds enjoyed?

Once everything was ready, I carried both of our plates over and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Good morning, beautiful,” I said, trying to rouse her from her slumber.

She grunted but didn’t move.

“It’s time to get up, sleepyhead,” I whispered as I sat one plate down on the bed and rubbed her shoulder.