Page 47 of This

“Stop!”

Dane lunges forward, and I instinctively slam on the brakes. The tires lose traction on ice hidden by the snow, and the truck slides sideways, no matter how far I turn the wheel to keep it straight. I wasn’t going very fast, so after a few heart-wrenching seconds, we skid to a stop in the other lane.

I whip my head toward him, still in a panic, but he’s slouched in the seat again like nothing happened. “What the hell, Dane!”

“Next time, do the opposite of everything you just did, and you’ll be fine. Lesson complete.”

I close my eyes, exhaling, and drop my forehead to the steering wheel. “I hate you.”

“Well, we both know that’s not true.” When I look over, skin still pressed into the leather, he smiles. “I warned you I was impossible to stay mad at.”

“I’ll prove you wrong,” I tell him.

“Maybe one day,” he says, reaching over to rub my back. “But not today.”

Afew miles down theroad, we find our first landmark—a white barn with a large metal T anchored to the side. I follow turn after turn, weaving through back roads until we reach a mailbox withStantonetched in the wood post. The driveway snakes us past barren trees, missing the green from the pictures but not the serenity. My pulse races when the cottage comes into view, six-pane windows, blue trim, and a porch swing.

As I park near a rock garden with a birdbath in the center, Dane side-eyes me.

“What?” I ask, doubting I want to know.

“That’s a lot of rocks to hide a body under.”

I roll my eyes and climb out. We meet at the front of the truck just in time for me to slip on the slick gravel. I gasp, sure I’m going down, but Dane’s reflexes prove faster than gravity. He catches me at an angle, one arm behind my back and the other wrapping my waist.

I stare up at him, my eyes wide in shock. “Colorado might be rejecting me.”

“You’ll win it over.” He rights me but keeps me held against him. “Unless a Dahmer-Bundy mountain man answers. Then I’m carrying your ass to the truck because if anyone gets to lock you in a basement, it’s me.”

By the time I laugh, he’s already kissed me on the nose and started for the porch. The steps creak, which I, “Awww,” at, and Dane shakes his head.

Even if we end the day murdered, what an adorable place to die.

When I lift my hand to knock, he adjusts so that he stands slightly in front of me. The protectiveness sends a jolt of nerves through me, like I really do need defending. M.E. is dangerous. The entire trip has been a colossal mistake. I’ll never find out if the rocking chairs squeak or see butterflies in the wildflowers.

The lock turns, and I latch on to Dane. He curls his fingers around mine, but once the door creeps open, both our grips loosen. M.E. smiles from the other side of the threshold, and Dane chuckles.

The toastiest brown eyes I’ve seen warm even more as I slip around him.

“You must be Bennett.” The old woman reaches out a hand for me when I nod. “Goodness, my dears, come in before you freeze.” She steps back, bringing me with her.

I glance at Dane, following us in, and mouth,Told you so.

He bites back a smile and holds up his hand in a silent admission of defeat. We both know it right then, walking into a cozy room with a fireplace on one end and blankets thrown over the backs of both recliners and the couch.

I’m moving to Colorado.

My heart hurts, crossing theborder back into New Mexico.

Maggie Elizabeth—she uses her initials for all correspondence, telling us, “You can’t be too careful about who knows you’re a little old lady, living alone.”—sent Dane out the door with a plate of cookies and promises of a home-cooked meal the next time he visits. She also double-checked my measurements, concerned the arms of thesweatershe’s knitting me would be too long.

That night, I find a few jobs I could potentially talk my way into.

Dane snorts when I mention one for record-keeping at a body shop. “Because when I think Bennett Alexus Ross, I think cars and math.”

Not a point I can argue, so I fill out the application for an assistant to a realtor instead and send my résumé. They want a people person with photography skills, and I’ve perfected small talk and I own a camera. The employee pool must be shallow because an office manager has emailed by the time I arrive in San Francisco the next day.

With everything set and the countdown on, the apartment feels breathable again. A few days before the move, I pack with Keaton on speakerphone. We did the same thing when I was leaving Portland. I don’t think I ever want to load myself into boxes without her.

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