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That little sputter of hope in her heart caught fire and burned bright, despite the rain pouring down. She framed his face with her hands. “I don’t want to go anywhere. I feel like I’ve been searching for home my whole life, and I’ve finally found it, with you. You’re my home, Officer Donovan, and if you don’t mind, I’d like to stay forever.”
He rested his forehead against hers. “Roxanne Belle Goodhart, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
She tipped her face up and kissed him—long, soft, slow—and reveled in the heat and power of his response. While his lips claimed hers, her mama’s words wafted through her mind: Baby girl, be careful who you kiss. A kiss has the power to unmoor your heart and set sail with your soul. It can change everything.
Yes, it can, Mama. The right kiss also had the power to bring heart and soul home.
West wrapped his free arm around her waist and pulled her closer. She sank her fingers into his wet hair, and—
A horn blared behind her, causing them both to start. “Hey, if you two are about done with this Nicholas Sparks moment, maybe I could drive y’all home?”
West smiled down at her. “What do you say, Roxy? Are you ready?”
She linked her fingers with his. “Let’s go home.”
Epilogue
Six Months Later
“Good show tonight.”
West’s comment drew Roxy out of her silent songwriting. She shifted in the passenger seat and looked at him. In the dim interior of his pickup, he was a strong, handsome profile behind the wheel. Strong and handsome enough to inspire little sparks of lust in her spark-prone zones. “Thanks. I’m glad you made it back from Richmond in time to come by Rawley’s and catch the second set. The new songs went over well, I think.”
He nodded, sent her a half-smile that raised the temperature on those sparks another degree. “I think so, too. Especially the slow one, judging by the number of couples making out on the dance floor.”
She returned his smile. “Yeah, well, I’m glad people were feeling it, but I think you get that kind of thing when you play a show on Valentine’s Day evening.”
“Maybe. It’s a pretty night. Want to take a drive before we head home?”
A drive? She had some V-Day plans of her own for them, but…it was a pretty night. The kind of crisp, clear winter evening where the sky looked like a drape of black silk over which stars gleamed like tiny, precious gems. And though it was cold outside, it was cozy in the cab of his truck, with the soft shadows and the radio playing low. “Sure.”
“Great.” He said it in a way that sort of sounded as if he’d been holding his breath for her answer, but he simply took a left. His fingers unconsciously tapped out a beat on the wheel.
The small release of pent-up energy from her normally still, self-contained lawman caught her eye. Was West nervous? She couldn’t fathom why he would be, but there was some kind of vibe coming off him. “Everything went okay in Richmond?”
“Huh? Oh, yep. The new recruits look competent. I think they’ll click with the rest of our team.”
He took another left, steering them onto Route 9. Out of town? She turned to him again, but his almost suspiciously neutral expression revealed nothing. “Um…where are we going?”
“Not far. Just a drive.” He shot her the smile again.
Weird. Sam Hunt came on the radio. She hummed along to how easy it was to break up in the nineties while staring out the window at the dark landscape cruising by and got slightly lulled by the soft music, the hum of the engine, the warmth of the male body so close to her own. When West slowed and whipped a U-turn, she grabbed the dash and nearly squeaked from surprise. “Holy smokes, are we heading back already?”
But no, he was slowing down, pulling over to the shoulder. “Not yet,” he said and brought the truck to a stop. After putting it in park, he unfasted his seat belt, reached into the back, and grabbed her coat from the seat. “Want to step out for a minute?”
“Uh, okay. Sure. Why not?” He held out the red wool coat he’d gotten her for Christmas, while she shrugged into it, then got out, slid into his own olive-green coat, and came around the front of the truck to her side and opened the door for her. She hopped out and snuggled deeper into her coat. The night was cold enough that their breath puffed out in misty clouds. He left her door open for extra light but took her hand and guided her to a spot on the shoulder a couple feet away. Finally, he stopped, stepped in front of her and glanced around, smiling a strangely satisfied smile. “Look familiar?”
She looked around, too, then back at him. “It looks like Route 9. Is there something I’m missing?”
He raised an eyebrow and jammed his hands into his coat pockets. “I think so. We’ve returned to the scene of the crime, I guess you could say.”
Okay. She was officially totally confused—he didn’t bring her into his work very much—and aside from that, he seemed to be teasing her. There was a devilish light dancing in his eyes. It got those sparks burning even brighter inside her, but she was still in need of more than wool and hormones to keep her warm. She moved closer until they were toe to toe, leaned in so their bodies touched, and looked up at him. “The scene of what crime, Officer Donovan?”
He cupped his warm hands on her cold cheeks. “The place where you stole my heart.”
Seriously? She looked around again. “Here? I don’t understand.”
“This is where I pulled over to bust a certain hitchhiker and she passed out in my arms.” Arms he now wrapped around her and held her close. “I didn’t realize it right at the time, but Roxy, I was a goner from that moment.”
