But he’d be back. Because he couldn’t stay away from her any more than the sun could stop shining, even in the darkest Alaskan winter.

She was absolutely not right.

He was over her. Full stop, no problem.

The sun had risen, turning the snow on the mountains a deep gold. Dodge flew over the winter wonderland that was Copper Mountain, stores lined up along Main Street, houses nestled into the tiny community, surrounded by black spruce and white pine. Snowmobile tracks led out of town, and pickups and all manner of vehicles, from trucks to snow machines to dogsleds, were parked in front of the Midnight Sun Saloon, Gigi’s Grocery, Starlight Pizza, and the school. A few kids played outside, swinging and throwing snowballs.

He angled west, toward Sky King Ranch. The wind had cleared the clutter of clouds, the sky an imperial blue, the mountains majestic and breathtaking.

Just calm down. He listened to the steady beat of his rotors, the collective in one hand, the cyclic in the other, Echo’s words in his head.

“You thought I was hurt. That’s why you came. And maybe you sticking around was you trying to deal with the fact you still have feelings for me.”

Fine. Maybe he had thought she’d been hurt. But sticking around at the vet’s office had more to do with the fact that he’d just nearly killed them flying through thirty-knot winds, and he just needed to be on the ground for a bit. Let himself breathe and ratchet his heartbeat to less than stroke levels. And wait, of course, until it was actually safe to put the bird in the air again.

And sure, what was he going to do—leave her when her dog might be dying? So yeah, he’d stuck around. But not because of his feelings.

“You’re not over me, Dodge. And I’m not over you. And like it or not, you’re going to have to deal with that.”

Despite her smile and her annoying confidence, he was over her. For example, when she leaned against him, crying, he put his arm around her, but he didn’t lean down and smell her hair or kiss the top of her head. Didn’t lift her chin to meet her beautiful green eyes—oops, okay—but that was just a fact, not something that was flitting about his head. So he hadn’t met her eyes. And hadn’t given more than a thought—okay, a couple, but not more—about kissing her. About pulling her into his arms and telling her it would be okay.

And for sure he hadn’t noticed the way she slept so sweetly against him, as if she trusted him. As if she’d been waiting for him.

“I never loved Colt.”