Page 66 of Melt the Ice

We walk hand in hand, comfortable in the silence that stretches, but I feel his eyes land on the side of my face a couple of times. I don’t mind it, in fact, I’ve come to crave it, the way he checks in on me when he doesn’t think I’m looking.

From the way he brushes up against me in passing to let me know he’s there, the way he wraps his pinky around mine, when he needs my touch but doesn’t want to overwhelm me. My favorite, though, might be when he sees me around the ranch for the first time each day. The way his coffee pauses before it hits his lips and his eyes brighten like they’ve just landed on the pot at the end of the rainbow.

He’s always made me feel like the most important thing in his world. And maybe I am, but he’s certainly the most important thing in mine. I could lose the ranch, but I couldn’t lose him. Not again. Not when everything I’ve ever known about love has been shaped and molded by his hands, even when I forgot every lesson we learned together.

Even when my father tried to dismantle everything, to tell me no one would love me the way I was. When he tried to change me to fit his narrative, Lucas put it to rest the minute my name left his lips. Despite me not wanting to admit it.

I pull him down to the ground, placing my head over his heart. The field is nearly bare, but the sentiment is still the same. His arms wrap around me almost instinctively, pulling me further up his body until he can place a kiss on the top of my head. His lips linger, soft and warm like he’s sealing this moment in time.

“Think we can grow strong and pretty just like they will come spring?” I ask quietly.

His chest shakes with the force of his inhale, rattling as he lets it out. “Yeah, pretty girl, I do.”

“You mean it?” My fingers trace along his forearms as his hand cradles my neck.

“Yeah, I feel like her death was the rebirth of me, like I was finally freed when she died. And I don’t know what to do with that, but I know that together, we can get through anything.”

He’s quiet for a moment, his fingers opening and closing as they rub against the skin at the base of my skull. My eyes flutter closed at the sensation. “I’ve told myself I’ve been alone for so long, and I convinced myself when you left, it’d always be that way. But when I look around, I’m not alone. I have my teammates and Miller, and now, you. I have a family, one who chooses me and loves me for me. One who helps me love me for me.”

He sniffles, and I look up in time to see his nose crinkle over the bridge. His hazel eyes drift to mine, and he gives me a tight, closed-mouth smile. “Her death is healing me, and that feels like betrayal.”

I turn my body until my hips press into the dirt and I rest my chin on his chest. “I don’t think grief makes sense, Lucas. I think it’s different for everyone, and that’s what makes it so complex. Some days are better than others, but you’ve never been one to stay down. You’ve overcome so much, your strength is an inspiration to me, and I’m sure many of your friends.”

The wind picks that moment to blow, knocking a few loose tendrils of hair across both of our faces. I reach out, tucking a blonde strand behind his ear and letting my hand linger, trailing down his jaw before settling over his heart. His hand tightens in my hair, shaking slightly before relaxing again. “You deserve the world, Lucas Monroe,” I whisper, hoping I’ve done enough that he knows my intentions are pure at this point. “I’ve always known that. I’m glad you’re finally seeing it, too.”

One arm drops from my shoulders, draping over my waist as the other continues to rub soothing patterns along my scalp. The steady beat of his heart under my hand calms me, lets me know he’s here, not miles away in his mind. Not overthinking, he’s allowing himself to just feel.

And to me, that feels like healing. Since I’ve known him, he’s always tried to plan a way to keep the next thing from happening. How to keep someone else from leaving, where he’s going to get food from, and who’s going to help him with his homework? It was always something. The king of “what-ifs.” I can only imagine how tired he is.

“Goldie?”

“Hmm?”

“Remember how you asked me to let you love me, how we both should have been loved?” His head lifts, slanting to the side so he can look me in the eyes.

“Yeah.” The unease in his voice comes out strong on the first half of the word, but then he schools it. “I’m doing that.” His brow hikes, daring me to challenge that. And a few months ago, I might have, and I guess I could, just to rile him up. But that’s not what I’m going for.

“I know you are.” I smile, biting softly on my bottom lip. “You’re the easiest person to love, and I just want to thank you for letting me love you back.”

He looks momentarily stunned, but then he breaks into a smile. Hooking a foot between my legs and rolling us over until I’m under him. The intensity of his gaze as he looks down at me would make a lesser woman feel like prey. But here, under him, under the weight of everything he’s had to carry alone his entire life, I feel powerful. Beautiful even, because it’s me he’s chosen to be here. It’s me he’s given all his broken pieces to. And it’s me he loves, even when it’s hard.

“There is no one but you, there has never been anyone but you.” His eyes drop to my lips, and they part on instinct, inviting him to do what we both want him to.

As he leans down, I whisper, “I know,” before he seals his lips over mine. The warmth of them makes my toes curl in my boots. This man kisses like he plays hockey: gentle and precise until provoked, then all bets are off. Which is exactly what happens when I trap his lip between my teeth.

A growl rumbles in his chest as one hand braces the front of my neck. His fingers fan out over the side while his thumb finds the underside of my chin. He pushes up, tilting my head back before he dives in. Lips covering mine for a split second before his tongue parts them. I gasp, and he takes the opportunity to lick into my mouth. Our tongues fight for dominance, teeth clash as he turns his head, his hand tightening around my throat just enough to get me to let him lead.

My eyes roll back behind my closed lids as my body relaxes into the dirt under his command, as if I have no control over it anymore. And honestly, I don’t mind. He doesn’t want to control me. He wants me to hand him my control in these situations. He wants me to let go enough to let him drive pleasure from me in whatever form he wants to give it.

“Lucas…” I whine when he pulls away. His forehead rests against my own, our chests heaving in sync.

He breathes me in, three deep breaths before pulling back and offering me his hand. “I’d love nothing more than to lay you out and have my way with you in the dirt. But maybe another time, I think At Worlds End is calling our names.”

My eyes widen at the mention of our favorite Pirates of the Caribbean movie. Jumping off the ground, I brush the dirt from my legs and call, “Loser makes popcorn!” Over my shoulder as I take off toward his house.

I look behind me once I get halfway, only to realize he’s standing in the same spot I left him in, staring after me as if he blinks, I might disappear. I slow to a stop before turning to face him. I let my head fall to the side and watch as he takes a few steps closer. But then, without warning, I’m running back to him, jumping when I’m close enough.

My arms wrap around his neck, ankles locking behind his back as I bury my face in his shoulder. “Hmm, I like this better. Princess treatment, less stress on the lungs.”