She flushed, looking nervous. With a quick kiss to Libby’s forehead, she set the little girl down and took her hand. “I need to talk to your daddy, sweetheart. Why don’t you look at the new coloring book I got for you? It’s at your desk. Pick out a few pictures and we’ll color one together in a bit, all right?”

Libby hugged Becca’s legs and then skipped away to her little pink desk in the corner of the salon. He noticed Becca hadn’t taken down any of Libby’s art, either. It had been almost two weeks since their big fight, and that was . . . downright promising. If she’d thought they’d never see each other again, wouldn’t she have taken that stuff down?

Or was he reading too much into this because he was desperate?

He licked his lips. “I . . . ah . . . think we need to talk. You came by earlier and I should have said something then. Shouldn’t have let it go on for as long as it has.” Because, hell, he’d missed her like nothing he’d ever experienced before. He’d thought he’d get over it, but every day it was just worse, and talking with Doc had made him realize that you didn’t get over some people. Some people were permanent, in both good ways and bad. Hank wanted that permanent with Becca—that forever—so he had to get her to realize that she needed him as much as he needed her.

Becca grew even paler at his words.

Should he have said more? He wasn’t sure how to lead into it. Hank took off his hat, nervous and utterly aware of the ring box in his jeans pocket. “Came here to settle it.”

Becca burst into tears.

That . . . was not what he’d expected. It horrified him to see her sobbing, and Libby looked up from her desk like a deer in headlights, took one glance at Becca, and then started wailing, too.

“I . . . Becca . . . Libby . . .” He clenched the brim of his Stetson with frustration. “What did I say?”

Becca just waved a hand, sobbing, as she went to retrieve Libby. He watched, frozen, while she scooped up his crying daughter and tried to soothe her. “It’s okay, Libby. It is. I promise.” She pressed another kiss to the little girl’s cheek even as she rocked her. “It’s just hard for me to hear. I’m sorry.”

Hard for her to hear? His belly suddenly felt like it was full of lead. Hard for her to hear because she’d already moved on? Was he making this awkward? Damn it, he didn’t know what to say. “I . . . Becca, I’m sorry.”