Della wasn’t foolish enough to think it would all be sunshine and unicorns. But they had each other and people who loved them and wanted them to be happy. And psychotherapy. She’d been strong enough to get through the emotional wringer of the last three years, so why wouldn’t she be strong enough to look beyond those three years, to look to her future and be brave enough to let someone love her?

Truly love her.

“Well, that is…” He smiled, his eyes dancing with delight. “Good news. Hell, it’s great news.”

Della slid her hand to the front of his shirt, curled her fingers into it, and pulled him inside, pushing the door shut behind them. There was a gleam in his eyes she very much liked the look of, and he was big and broad and solid beneath her hand, and his hair was ruffled and sexy as hell.

She wound her arms around his neck, rising up on her tiptoes. “We’ve been idiots.”

“Yes, we have.”

“Let’s not do that again.”

“Let’s not,” he agreed readily, his hands sliding around her waist, bringing her against the hard length of his body—right where she wanted to be. “Let’s promise we’ll tell each other everything, always. For the rest of our lives.”

“The rest of our lives?” Della pressed herself against the burgeoning ridge of his erection, loving the change in his eyes as delight turned to desire. “I like the sound of that.”

“Mmm,” he murmured, lowering his head, his gaze fixed on her mouth. “Me too.”

A sudden knock at the door had them both freezing. “Who could that be?” Della whispered.

Tucker shrugged as he untwined himself reluctantly and strode to the door. Della followed, standing just behind him and to the left. It was Mrs. Doyle standing on the doorstep, her arms folded, her foot tapping impatiently.

“Tucker,” she greeted briskly as she nodded at Della.

“Mrs. Doyle,” he acknowledged.

“I thought that was you, but you appear to have arrived empty-handed. You haven’t been around for a while, which means I’m running real low on birdseed, and I thought we had an…” She flicked a gaze at Della. “Understanding.”

Della might have been pretty damn happy in love right now, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t annoyed both at Mrs. Doyle’s gall and timing and completely astounded by the woman’s giant cojones.

She wasn’t that happy in love.

“Tell everyone, Mrs. Doyle,” she said, pushing in front of Tucker. “Tell all of Credence, tell the entire state of Colorado. Hell, tell the whole damn country if you want. Tucker Daniels and I are in love. Shout it from the rooftops.”

Della went to shut the door, but Tucker stopped it momentarily. “I’ll bring a bag for Cheech and Chong tomorrow.”

And then he shut the door gently in Eadie’s gawping face.