He shook his head. “I texted Kent back and told him no. I connected him with Kelly, my bar manager. She’s going to go instead.” He paused. “I was running away,” he admitted. I could tell the words cost him, because he swallowed hard, looked away for a bit. “When my friend offered, I thought, what the hell? It would be fun. Easy. A beach and warm weather instead of a Montana winter? It wasn’t that hard of a sell. Then Sawyer hooked up with Kelsey and Huck got back together with Sarah. They’re in it for the long haul. When I look at them, I see the love my parents had for each other. I’m happy for them, but it’s scary as fuck.”

I knew his parents had died a long time ago, but nothing more than that.

He sighed, wiped a hand down his face.

“So is having parents who hate each other but stay married,” I shared. “That’s petrifying to watch because what if I find someone and we turn into that? I only know that kind of love, Thatcher, which probably isn’t love at all. You saw it this weekend. I don’t want that. It hurts too much.”

“You pushed me away to protect yourself,” he said, his voice soft. He lifted his hand and stroked my hair.

“You pushed me away to protect yourself,” I added.

“It hurts too much,” I said, repeating her words.

I blinked back tears. “We’re a disaster.”

He laughed.

“Let’s be a disaster together,” he murmured.

I looked into his eyes. Saw he was serious.

“We like each other. We wouldn’t be feeling like shit without each other if we didn’t.”

I blinked. He was right.

“I like you,” I admitted.

“I like you, too.”

I nodded. He nodded.

There. Done.

No, not done.

His hand hooked around to my ponytail and tugged it so my head tipped back. He kissed me.

Yes. Fuck, yes. I loved his kisses and this one was no exception.

With his free hand, he banded his arm around my back and picked me up. Walked forward and set me on a step so we were the same height and he kept right on kissing me.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, held on. Pressed myself into him. Let his tongue find mine. Let him devour me.

We kissed. And kissed. And kissed.

The birds chirped in the far-off trees. The wind whipped across the prairie grass. The sun felt warm on my cheek.

And we kept right on kissing.

“I more than like you,” Thatcher said when he started kissing along my jaw.

I clawed at his t-shirt, held on. My breasts pressed into his chest and I knew he could feel how hard my nipples were.