Just her smile brightened his day. Her laughter was addictive, and he was starting to need the warm clasp of her body like the way he needed air. It was so different than it had been with Adria—he realized that now. Being with Adria had scratched an itch, but it hadn’t satisfied the lonely parts of his soul, parts that he hadn’t realized were there until Becca curled up against him and gave a bone-deep sigh after sex. For the first time ever, he felt connected to a woman. Like they were on the same page, mentally, physically, and emotionally.

Like they wanted the same things in life.

It was funny—before he’d started dating Becca, he’d never thought he’d end up with a woman. Thought he’d live his life out alone in Alaska, turning into a grizzled old mountain man alongside his brothers. Now, he was starting to see a different life in the future, one involving growing old with a woman who worked as hard as she loved, who claimed she was needy even if she had an independent streak, and who adored his daughter as hard as she adored him . . . and her dog.

It had only been a few weeks, but Hank also suspected that when things lined up perfectly and the world showed you the right person? It didn’t matter if it was three days or three years. You just knew.

And with Becca . . . he just knew. She was his as surely as he was hers.

He hadn’t told her that yet, of course. His woman had some hang-ups about relationships, courtesy of the last jackass, who’d left her dangling for ten years. The man was a moron, Hank decided, because he should have had Becca married and claimed as his within months of first dating her. That was Hank’s plan, anyhow. He had to move a little slower than he wanted, though, because she worried people in town would think she was “rebounding,” or that she wasn’t with Hank for the right reasons.

Like he cared what anyone else thought.

That had never bothered him before. Even this morning, as he headed into the ranch, he braced himself for another round of teasing from his knucklehead brothers. They loved to rib him about his relationship with Becca, but he didn’t care. He was with a good woman and they were just jealous, alone in their own lonely beds.

When he pulled up to the ranch house, he headed inside to get coffee. His brothers were in the kitchen, sitting with Doc. All of them looked over at him and smirked as he came in.

“You look tired,” Jack told him boldly. “Late night?”

“Early morning,” was all Hank said. He moved to the coffeepot and poured himself a cup.

“No doughnuts?” Caleb asked, tone mournful. “Damn.”