Change of Hart (Wells Ranch, #3)(53)
“I didn’t expect you to take a vow of celibacy. But, come on…. She’s one of my friends. I don’t get why you thought it was a good idea, if you’ve really cared about me all this time.”
There’s a slow bob of his throat and he gnaws at the inside of his cheek. “I wish I could say I made better choices over the last decade. You might not have asked for celibacy but, damn, would I love to tell you there’s been no one since you. And I knew Shelby was a bad idea, which is why I didn’t let it go any farther…fuck, I should’ve stayed away altogether.”
I shake one of his hands away so I’m free to dab at the corner of my eye to stop the stupid, dramatic, unnecessary tear from falling. Lord knows, I’ve cried enough over him.
“I’m sorry. For Shelby. For every other girl. The last thing I wanted was to do anything that would hurt you again. I fucked up, and I understand if you don’t trust me, but I can swear on my dead mom’s grave—which is literally right where we are now—it’s only ever been you for me.”
“Why?” I squint to make out his face through blurred vision and stinging eyes. “Why me, when I wasn’t willing to give you the life you wanted?”
“I only wanted a life with you, Bear.” The nickname rolls off his tongue and sends my stomach somersaulting with it. “I’m painfully uninterested in any future that doesn’t involve you.”
“How many girls have you brought up here?” I ask, praying for the answer I need.
“Nobody knows about this place. This is where I come when I need to scream or swear or throw things off the cliff. When joking and laughing through the pain isn’t cutting it.”
A tear falls from my jaw, ricocheting off my bare thigh. “I shouldn’t have left.”
“If you hadn’t gone away to school, this town would be forever stuck with Brickham as the only medical care. And I’m definitely biased, but you’re better than he could ever hope to be.” His smile matches mine, small yet genuine, only he has deep dimples in both cheeks. “So I lost you, but it was for the greater good.”
“You’re such a martyr.” I drop his hand. “You said you come out here to scream?”
“Sometimes.”
Placing my palm against his firm chest, I give him a push back and hop off the tailgate. The ground’s made up of reddish rock, which crumbles underfoot, and I gingerly walk toward the cliff’s edge. The closer I get, the more hair every wind gust is able to grab and twist.
Smoothing a hand over my wild locks, I take a deep breath and scream. As loud as I can, until my lungs are aching and my throat is on fire. I scream even when tears stream down my face, and I scream even when Denver grabs my hand and joins me. Our voices fill the valley, and soon it feels like the air in my lungs has been replaced with helium. The weight I’ve been quietly shouldering for months has disappeared, and if it weren’t for the man holding tight to my hand, I might float away.
He turns to me when I’ve stopped to catch my breath, reaching with his free hand to wipe the wetness from my cheeks. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”
The warmth of his touch makes my heart thunder in my chest like a zoo animal rattling the bars of its enclosure.
Fuck my fears—my heart is screwed anyway.
I grab a fistful of his shirt in my free hand and yank him toward me. Wasting no time, my mouth finds its way to his, and Denver wraps his arms snug around my waist. His tongue drifts along my lips, parting them, allowing a soft moan to escape me. He steals my breath and my thoughts and my bones with an explorative kiss. When he pulls back for air, there’s a wisp of space between us. Our foreheads touch and, for the first time in years, my entire body relaxes with a deep exhale.
Blair
“Can I be honest for five seconds?” I ask breathlessly.
“Always.”
“I’m scared.” I shutter my eyes, and he presses soft kisses over my dampened eyelashes. “Of what’s happening with my mom, of the way I had to toss my life plans aside to come back here, of you…”
“Of me?” He grabs either side of my face and tilts my head up, silently pleading for me to look at him. Then he holds my gaze with a worried expression etched into the space between his brows. A single tear—tiny while also big enough to drown us both—sits tucked against the corner of his eye.
“We were kids, and now we’re different. You’re…” I raise my hands like I’m weighing things out, seeking the right word.
A fuckboy, a playboy, a douchebag…
A grown man, a sweet guy, more handsome than ever before…
“Not the same boy I loved. I don’t know you.”
“Deep down, I’m the same boy. I still ride broncs, and love my family, and my favorite color is blue. And Blair, I’m still totally fucking crazy about you.”
“I’m not the same person I used to be.”
“Well, I personally think you’re an even better version, based on what I know so far. And I’d love to know more.”
“What do you want to know?” My wrists link behind his neck, pulling his chest into mine.
“Literally everything. The good, the bad, the random thoughts consuming your brain. I want it all. I want anything you’re willing to tell me.”