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“Montana is your home.”
“I thought it was, but houses, they come and go. But this—” I press my palm flat on his chest over his heart “—this will be forever.” Saxon shakes his head in awe.
I know this comes as a shock. It does for me too. I’ve been unable to decide because I’m afraid, but I’m tired of being frightened. I have to try because, in the end, you just want to be with the one who makes you laugh. Saxon has breathed new life into me, and I can’t wait to dance beneath the fireworks.
The song changes, and the lights dim. Saxon locks his fingers over mine. The song choice couldn’t be more perfect. “Dance with me?” I nod, too afraid to speak.
When he stands and offers me his hand, I accept. The moment we make contact, I know everything before I love you doesn’t count. This is our second chance, and I intend to embrace it with both hands.
Saxon guides me to the dance floor and smiles when I suddenly swallow, nervous. I can’t remember the last time I danced. “I’ve got you,” he says, pulling me toward him and taking the lead.
I settle against him, allowing Saxon and the music to whisk me away. He holds tight, slow dancing with me to the most beautiful song in the world. But when he leans down and sings the chorus of “Amazed” by Lonestar into my ear, this song will forever be ours.
When he declares his love through the lyrics, crooning that it just keeps getting better, I can’t help the tears. I press my cheek to his chest, locking my arms around his neck. We sway to the music as Saxon serenades me with a voice sent from above.
I close my eyes, lulled into a calm state, the white noise finally fading. On the cusp of paradise, another revelation reveals itself, but I knew it was always there. I want to spend the rest of my life with this man, and just as our background melody states, I’m amazed by Saxon Stone.
Three Weeks Later
Even though we could have taken a road trip on Saxon’s bike, enjoying the sights our beautiful countryside has to offer, we decided to fly to Oregon instead.
The past three weeks have kind of been Groundhog Day-ish. Sam called Hayley Regan, but she is on vacation for eight weeks. Lucky her. We didn’t see the point in using another realtor because with the market the way it is, we wanted a master of their craft.
As we both didn’t want to settle for second best, we were faced with a tricky predicament. Until she returned, we were stuck together in a house we once called our home.
I went to all of Sam’s doctor appointments. I even endured seeing Sophia when I had to. Dr. Kepler said Sam was getting much better, and his recent headaches were all part of the healing process.
I was glad Sam was on the mend, and although Saxon and Sam were tolerating one another, I was just waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Each night as Saxon and I lay in bed, I kept thinking about our date and the possibility of packing up our things and going to Oregon. It would be nice to have some time to ourselves. Seeing as nothing was happening in Montana, I figured now was as good a time as any to see where Saxon lived.
And that’s why we’re in a cab, riding down a quaint little street, on the way to Saxon’s house. “So do I get a hint?” I ask, my nose pressed to the window, admiring all the pretty residences lining the street.
He chuckles, being evasive as usual. “If you guess which one it is, I’ll give you a kiss.” Now I’m determined.
I honestly didn’t know what to expect coming here. I’ve never really been out of Montana. Yes, I was born in L.A., but that’s a distant memory to me, one which I’m happy to leave unvisited. So far, Portland, Oregon, is a bustling city surrounded by surprisingly lush greenery.
An urban area with a lot more cars and people than in Montana, everything is compact. I’m used to not seeing a living soul for miles. But here, citizens seem to be…everywhere. It’ll take some getting used to. So will the noise.
The street we ride down is thankfully a lot quieter than the ones near town, so I’m really hoping Saxon lives here. I scan the Victorian-style houses, impressed by their beauty. The neighborhood seems safe and cozy, and as we drive past a blooming rose garden, I can suddenly picture myself tending to one of my own.
The thought comes out of left field, and it costs me.
“Looks like you missed out on your kiss.” Saxon’s amused voice snaps me from my stupor, and I realize we have stopped moving, which can only mean one thing.
Snapping into focus, I look at the two-story Victorian home just outside my window. It’s an eggshell white with a charming little porch and front steps. A tall pine tree grows in the middle of the yard. Not big by any means, but it’s perfect.
“I hope your silence is a good thing.” I nod animatedly, unsnapping my belt.
The moment my cowboy boots touch down, a shiver strums through me, and I can’t stop smiling. Shielding the bright sun with my hand, I tilt my head and drink in Saxon’s home. It’s beautiful.
My feet move of their own accord as I amble toward the front steps. I stop, still taking it all in. Polished a natural varnish, the porch gives the home an antiquated vibe. The wooden door has a glass panel, and I can suddenly imagine Saxon peering out of it, watching the world pass him by.
The scent of pine assaults my senses, instantly humming to my country soul. I run up the stairs, a sense of excitement coursing through my veins. Still lost in a daze, looking above and to the left and right of me, I don’t realize Saxon hasn’t joined me until the world falls quiet.
A sense of calm floods me, and I turn slowly.
Saxon stands at the bottom of the stairs. Our bags in tow. He is gazing up at me with a look I can’t quite place. “Is everything all right?” I’m afraid he’s having second thoughts. He nods once, a small smirk tugging at his lips. Strolling along the porch, I lean against the railing, loving my current view. “Then why are you looking at me like that?”
