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I needed to ignore the strange feelings I was experiencing, so I asked, “You didn’t want to pursue that career?”

“Nah, baseball was my passion. I knew from the first time my mother took me to T-ball that that was what I wanted to do.”

Sighing, I nuzzled in closer to him. “You’re lucky to have known what your passion was.”

He rested his chin on top of my head. “You don’t know what your passion is, Rose Shaw?”

“Nope. I mean, I think I do. I’m not sure, though. At one point in my life, I thought I knew for sure what I wanted to study. Then I discovered I had a knack for designing things. Houses, barns, things like that. I enjoy it, but I’m not sure it’s my passion.”

“What was the other thing you thought you wanted to do?”

I shrugged and stalled for time. I never talked about my love of painting. I decided to see what Bryson would think, so I told him. “I enjoy painting and creating artwork.”

“Really?” he said, his thumb rubbing over my skin and sending little bolts of heat into my body.

“Do you have any pictures of your paintings?”

With a soft chuckle, I replied, “No, I haven’t painted in a while.”

Strangely enough, Bryson didn’t press me for some reason. I liked that about him. He must have sensed it was a delicate subject for me and let it go.

We lay there in silence for the longest time before he finally said, “I didn’t know who you were when you first walked in, but hell if I didn’t want to meet you.”

“When I came out on the balcony?” I asked with a soft chuckle.

“No, when you arrived with Loren.” He lifted our hands and held them up toward the sky before he dropped them but kept hold of my hand. “You walked in, and all the light in the room went directly to you.”

I adjusted my body to look at him. “What do you mean?”

He glanced down, and our eyes met. “You’re so different from all the women who come to these parties. Hell, you’re so different from most of the women I meet. Your confidence is evident from the get-go.”

“How so?”

“I’ve never seen a woman so sure of herself and comfortable in her own skin. It’s refreshing. And I might add, you’re the most beautiful woman here tonight.”

I laughed. “Please. Some of those women are wearing thousand-dollar dresses and shoes.”

He shrugged. “That doesn’t make them beautiful. What makes you different is you aren’t afraid to be yourself. You showed up at a party dressed in the cutest fucking pink sneakers I’ve ever seen, your hair pulled back in a ponytail through the back of a Mariners baseball cap, and a goddamn baseball shirt on. Not just any baseball shirt, a Mariners shirt with my number on it.”

Glancing at my shirt, I felt my cheeks heat. “Oh my God! It is your number! I had no idea.”

He winked and went on. “You’re more real than any of those women will ever be. And then, when you found out who I was, it didn’t faze you one bit.”

“Don’t forget I did think you were a rich manwhore.”

He laughed. “That’s right. I almost forgot. So, when are you leaving to go back to Montana?”

My smile faded, and I turned to stare up at the night sky. “Tomorrow afternoon.”

Bryson moved to lay on his side. I looked up and smiled. “What color are your eyes?”

He moved a piece of loose hair from the side of my face. “Green.”

I absentmindedly nodded. “I like the color green.”

“I like the color blue.”

Reaching up, I pulled at the strings of his hoodie. “How can you tell the color of my eyes in the dark?”

“I told you, I notice things.”

“Is this the part where you kiss me and then ask me to sleep with you?”

He lowered until his mouth was inches from mine. “I never asked you to sleep with me, Rose.”

Licking my lips, I reached up and brushed my fingers through his soft hair. “Maybe you should.”

His mouth sealed over mine with a kiss that was so passionate, I felt as if I was falling from the very roof we were on. I moaned when he palmed my breasts through the layers of shirts I had on. How could something like a touch through clothing turn me on so much? Was it because it was Bryson? It had to be. I hadn’t wanted anyone like this in…forever.

“More,” I gasped.

He was off the hammock and had me in his arms so fast I was nearly dizzy.

“I want you, Rose. Right here, right now,” he whispered against my neck as he placed a soft kiss on my skin.

My brain was screaming for me to stop. I liked Bryson, and it had been the first time I’d ever felt such a longing, a need for another person, but there was absolutely no future for us. On the other hand, my body begged for one night with him. One night to see what it would be like to have him buried inside me. One night to be reckless and take something for myself.

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