He’d been such a fool—for all of it, from leaving her to suggesting they spend the night in this way-too-small, now sweltering cabin.

Thankfully, his brain kicked in before he did something foolhardy and ended this night in a place they might both regret.

So, despite his impulses, he tore himself away from the heady lure of Echo’s touch.

He drew in a hard breath.

“Are you okay?” She looked up at him.

“Yep,” he said, taking a step away. She’d taken off her hat, her long blond hair loose, and he could still feel its silk between his fingers. Still feel her in his arms.

He practically sprinted to the door.

“Dodge?”

“Just trying not to get us in over our heads here, E.” Then he stepped outside.

The night was crisp, the stars winking from the heavens. He just needed to clear his head.

She opened the door. “What are you doing? Have you lost your mind?”

“Yep. And now I’m trying to get it back.”

“Oh.”

He looked at her. She was frowning.

“That didn’t come out how I meant it.” He was shivering now. “I didn’t lose my mind, Echo. I knew exactly what I was doing. Which is why I’m outside, trying to remember why I don’t spend the night in a cabin with you.”

“Right.” She smiled, and her green eyes twinkling nearly brought him back inside. “I forgot. You and your God have an agreement.”

He’d never thought of it that way . . . more of a pledge, really. But he nodded, unable to speak.

“You mean to tell me that you’ve never—”

“Have you?” A sort of horror went through him.

“No.”

Oh, thank you, God. “Why not?” But maybe he hadn’t a right to ask that of her.

She lifted a shoulder. “No one else . . .” Then she shook her head. “Actually, I like what you believe. That there’s only one, ever. And that guy was always you, Dodge. Even if I couldn’t have you.”

He met her eyes. “Go in. Close the door. I’ll be back in a moment.”

“I’m going to bed.”

“Even better.”

She grinned and closed the door. And yes, maybe he was an idiot, but he’d made a mistake the first time, asking her to marry him on impulse, before she was ready.

He wasn’t about to make another impulsive mistake that could derail them again. No. This time he’d be smart about it all. Make plans.

Not destroy his entire life by a stupid misunderstanding that one simple conversation could have solved. Except, it didn’t feel simple—not back then. Back then, it felt like his world had blown up.

So he’d run.

But now, for some reason, he was back.