I pulled her down, and she sat with a frown.

“I mean, why haven’t you bounced out of this town yet?”

Her face smoothed. “I like it here,” she said, shrugging. “And Gunnar is still in school. His parents will foot the bill as long as he stays home and helps with the ranch.”

“He’s still going to apply for the physician’s assistant program in Denver?”

“That’s why he’s staying close to home, doing his prerequisites for pre-PA at UCCS, and then he can transfer super easily to CU Denver.”

“You mean, he’s staying close to you.”

“Just to save money. Then we’ll move to Denver. Hopefully, I can find something there that’s flexible like this job, so I can work while he is in class.”

“I bet you can. Denver is … well, Denver. You’ll have options.”

Hope widened her eyes. “Where did you go? Not around here.”

I felt my expression involuntarily turn in. “I was premed at Dartmouth. Well, that was the intended direction anyway.”

“You didn’t like it?”

“It was a great year.”

“Just one year? You act like it was a lifetime ago.”

“Just one. And, yes, it feels that way.”

Kirby fingered the edge of the plastic lid on her to-go cup. “How long has it been since you left? Two years?”

“Four.”

“I’ve been working with you all year, and you’ve never talked about it. It has something to do with your parents, doesn’t it?”

I raised an eyebrow. “I’m surprised it’s taken you this long to ask.”

“By the time I thought we were close enough for me to broach the subject, I was afraid of what you might say.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Are you just saying that to make me feel better?” she asked. “Because if something happened to you there, you can talk to me. You know I won’t tell anyone, not even Gunnar.” Her perfect features were even more stunning when she was sad, her bottom lip even fuller when she pouted.

“Nothing bad happened to me at Dartmouth. I told you, I liked it there, but my tuition came with conditions I couldn’t agree to anymore.”

“Oh,” she said, a bit relieved. “Your parents.”

“Yes. Them.”

A knock on the door sounded again.

Kirby yelled, causing me to jump, “Come in!”

The knob turned, and in walked a mammoth man-child with the sweetest baby face and more muscles than his T-shirt could handle. He flipped his trucker hat backward with a quick motion, and caramel wisps fanned out in every direction from beneath the black mesh, refusing to behave. He rushed to the sofa to sit next to Kirby. “Damn it, baby, I’m sorry. Fucking night class and fucking traffic.”

She leaned over with a stoic expression, letting him kiss her cheek. She batted her long eyelashes.

She wasn’t fooling anyone. He was already forgiven.