So, what now?” Megan asked from the car speakers. I had my phone connected to the Bluetooth as I drove back from Amarillo. My eyes were finally starting to lose the harsh red tenderness of my tears that had circled them when I’d first left the parking garage.

“I honestly thought that I wanted to sell it all without thought or attachment and move on, but now I think I want to take a few days and consider all of my options. Maybe even talk to Holly about what she wants. I’m not getting sentimental here, but I also don’t want to just throw it all away out of bitterness.”

“I think it’s the smart thing to do. There’s no rush now. If you want to take a few days, months, even years, there’s nothing to stop you. It’s yours now. No one can take it away. Like you said, you don’t need the money.”

“It’s so weird to think about all those things he’s left for me. There’s so much, Meg. More than I could have imagined. And can you believe my hideout all those years was owned by my dad?”

That little tidbit had been a shock to me. The land had always been his, purchased by him and my mom when they’d bought the house after they’d married.

“At least you know why you were never bothered by someone screaming trespass. What about the house?”

“The lawyer had a janitorial company go in once a month to make sure everything was clean and maintained. He also asked the troopers to drive by once a day to make sure nothing bad went down. He said that would be up to me now that the estate was mine.”

The line went quiet for a moment, and the only sound was the whirring of the asphalt under the tires as I drove. I knew Meg was just waiting for the invitation to speak and say the things I couldn’t bring myself to think about, let alone say aloud.

“Say it,” I finally blurted out as I grabbed the soda warming in the middle console. Taking a mouthful, I waited, swirling it in my mouth to try and ease the dryness there.

“I have nothing to say.”

“Liar,” I responded after swallowing and settling the cup back in its place. “You always have something to say, and this… I know this is just eating you alive.”

“I think you should keep the land where your trees are,” she finally said, pushing the words out quickly. “I also think you should leave the house for me to take care of. I can do what needs to be done there. You don’t need to go back to that place ever again. I can’t see you broken like you were after that night. Holly doesn’t need to see you like that, either.”

“And that right there is why I love you. I can say, with my hand on my heart, that if it were left up to me, I would burn the place to the ground without a backward glance.” I brushed the hair back from my face and tightened my other hand on the steering wheel. My grip twisted as the flashes of Dustin’s glassy and lifeless eyes stabbed themselves into my memory.

“Mikayla!”

Megan’s voice cut through the darkness that pooled and threatened to drown me. Shaking it off, I took three deep breaths before I responded.

“I’m okay.”

“Yeah, well if that’s your reaction from just talking about it, there’s no way on God’s green Earth you need to go back into that house again.”

“You’re such a mother hen,” I teased in an attempt to calm us both down. “Just do me a favor and keep Holly preoccupied. I need to drive for a bit.”

“You going to your trees?”

“I honestly don’t know,” I admitted quietly as my eyes hit the grown-over train tracks that ran toward the horizon just outside of town. All I knew was that I wasn’t ready to go back to her house and talk this through in person. Megan wanted to look after me, and I loved her for it, but right now I needed to sort through my own thoughts, hang-ups, and inhibitions. I had to exorcise my demons for a while so I could hold my head up high when she inevitably brought them up for discussion.

“Well, you don’t ever need to worry about Holly.”

“I know it.”

“Love you.”

“Backatcha,” I sang, my thumb hovering over the end call button on my steering wheel. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Take your time.”

I smiled, said my goodbyes, and ended the call.

Being left alone with my own thoughts wasn’t exactly the greatest idea after the afternoon that I’d had. My father’s written words lingered on the edge of my mind on a loop. There were sentences that just played over and over again; memories of the times we spent together when Mom was alive were now tainted with red around the edges. It was a constant reminder that this man had killed the one thing in the world I had loved and wanted more than my next breath. How did I reconcile that with the man who had left me everything and an apology to accompany it? That letter he’d written, the last letter he would ever write for me, contained the most honest things he’d ever said to me. He had resented me, hated me, and turned away from me to ease his own hurts. It didn’t make him right; it didn’t make his reaction right. Nothing would ever do that. Not now, and not when I’d been nine.

I drove for what felt like hours, circled the town several times and headed south before turning myself around and finding a more definitive route. It took me a while to see where I was finally headed, and I’d barely registered the stretch of road when the sound of shredding rubber hitting the underside of my car, drowning out the quiet hum of the radio.

“Shit, shit, shit,” I cursed, slapping the hazard lights on my dash and easing the car off the road. It wasn’t until I was at a stop in a cloud of dust that I realized exactly where I was. As the dust settled, I dropped both palms and my forehead against the steering wheel and let the ghosts of that afternoon surround me.

I couldn’t help but remember Dustin riding my ass in that huge truck of his, or his erratic behavior and the heartbreak in those unfathomably blue eyes as he finally unleashed all of his pain and anger on me. All of that history had happened here, on this tiny patch of road that had once been so familiar to me.

“You did that on purpose,” I whispered, glancing in my rear-view mirror and half expecting to see his truck sitting so closely, all I would see was the chrome of his grill. “But thank God for full sized spares.”

I slipped out onto the cool asphalt and planted my hands on my hips as I took in my surroundings. There were fields as far as the eye could see in both directions. The warm spring sun was slowly heating things up, and after I kicked parts of my tire aside, I opened the back and pulled on my old flannel shirt to protect the blouse I was wearing. I worked quickly and diligently, the heat of the sun quickly making me uncomfortable as I placed the jack where it needed to be and started to work the damn thing after I’d loosened the nuts. When you lived out in the rural countryside, you learned to do things like changing your own tires. Jen had always told me that women needed to be self-sufficient, especially on roads where cars seldom traveled. According to her, there was nothing wrong with being a damsel when there was a good man around—we just needed to look after ourselves when the occasion called for it.

She was right, of course. Who knew when the next car would pass by out here in the middle of nowhere? It was just a coincidence that the one truck that happened by slowed down when I was just about through removing the shredded tire, and in the process of dropping the stupid spare on my toe, leaving me hopping around like a fool. It was also just my luck that the brown-eyed god that jumped out of the damn vehicle was the man from the bar the night before.

I blew my sweat-dampened bangs from my forehead as he pulled on the bill of his cap and approached in his confident lope. There was a cocky smile on his lips, one side rising just a bit higher than the other as he stopped and leaned around me to see the bare metal where a tire should have been.

“What are the odds, darlin’?”

I gave him a sarcastic laugh and looked down at the spare, which was sat just feet away from me, and supplied, “Of course it’s you.”

“Well, damn, anyone would think you were happy to see me.”

I rolled my eyes and bent, reaching for the tire, which he nudged out of my reach, leaving my hands to swing back and slap against my knees.

“What the hell are you doing?” I asked, straightening to my full height and planting my hands on my hips.

“Nothing right now, but I’m planning on being helpful. Ain’t that good of me?”

“Thank you,” I said in the most insincere way manageable. “But I’ve got this.”

“I’m not disputing that,” he replied cheerfully as he crouched in front of the old tire and examined the damage. “What the hell did you run over?”

“Nothing that I know of.”

He stood again and tipped his head to the side before nodding at the front of my car with a big grin. “Is that The Way I Choose?”

I looked between him and my cracked door where the ‘Bad Company’ song filtered through at barely a whisper. I was actually impressed. He was dressed like most of the ranch hands around here, and I’d assumed that he was another country boy through and through, but he’d given me pause for thought. Something I appreciated. I offered him a genuine smile and nodded. “It is.”

“I just surprised you,” he declared, his beautifully imperfect smile making another appearance.

I raised one shoulder in agreement and dropped it again, watching as he rubbed his jaw and rolled my spare toward him, getting down to work with a small laugh.

“I like knowing I have the ability to do that,” he finally said, his big hands gathering everything he needed.

“Why?”

“Because it means that your preconceived notion about me has been shattered.” He looked up at me briefly. His smile grew. It was a warm, sensual, and heart-stopping smile now. One that made my chest ache and a flash of recognition flutter in the depths of my stomach. I tried to shake the odd nostalgia off and turned away from him, kicking a piece of rubber from my path.

“You’re very self-assured.”

“Not really. I know what I like, I know what intrigues me, and when I’m interested in something or someone, I go after it with a single-minded determination.”

“I see.” I snorted and spun on the balls of my feet to look down at him again. “And what if the other party isn’t interested?”

“Well, I see that as a challenge. Just means I gotta change their way of seeing things. I’m also really good in bed. That’s always helpful.”

“Be still my beating heart.” I raised my hand to my chest and fluttered my eyelashes at him. “Now how can I turn down an offer like that?”

“Just something to think about.”

“Or look forward to?” I asked with a snort. “I own a bar back at home, and I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone with your level of game.”

“Where’s home?” he asked, ignoring the backhanded compliment I’d just offered him.

I pointed in the general direction of northwest and smiled sweetly. Again, my vagueness didn’t seem to deter him in the slightest. I would have found it annoying if I hadn’t already decided it was endearing.

“What made you want to open a bar?” he asked as he tightened one of the lug nuts.

“I worked in one for a while. I had all these ideas but the owner kind of shrugged me off like I was an idiot, so when I fell into some funds, I decided to put those ideas into practice.”

“And?”

“It worked out. I have a great staff, amazing regulars, and a steady stream of customers the rest of the time.”

“Did the legalization of marijuana affect your business?” My directions had obviously been impeccable.

Laughing, I shook my head. “Not even a little bit.”

“That’s good.” He glanced up at me again and used his index finger to push his ball cap out of the way. “What’s your name?”

“You can call me, Kay,” I said, crouching next to him and handing him another lug nut. “You are?”

“You can call me Garrett.” His tone was teasing as he fed my words back to me, but I rolled my eyes in feigned annoyance. “How long are you in town for?”

“I have no idea. A week, maybe two?” More? Less? I wasn’t even sure. How long did it take to decide what to do with your father’s estate and will? I wasn’t certain what was expected of me now. All I knew for sure was that I couldn’t keep Holly out of school for too long. I would have to make choices, and then eventually deal with things from a distance.

“Enough time for me to take you out to dinner then?”

I laughed aloud, my head falling back. “You don’t give up easily.”

“Is that a yes?” he asked, flashing that oddly familiar smile at me again.

“No. It’s not a yes.”

“Is it a no?”

“Not a no,” I admitted, drawing in a breath. “It’s a maybe.”

“Better than a no, not a yes, ” he said, double checking his work and standing to release the jack. “I can work with that.”

I watched him gather the tools along with my flat and put them away then I followed him around to the back of my SUV. He put everything back where it had come from and left the tire in the back so I could get the damn thing fixed.

“How about I take you to dinner as a thank you?” I asked quietly, stunned that the words had come from my mouth.

Garrett turned with a full watt smile curling his lips, and my eyes met his. Something in the depths of them relaxed me enough to return the gesture and stop the slew of expletives I’d been slinging at myself the moment I’d given the invitation. I was here for a week at least. What would it hurt to go out to dinner with him once?

“You have something against tradition, Kay?”

“Nope. You just did me a favor, and I want to thank you for it. It doesn’t mean I’m going to take you to bed.”

“Now, that’s a shame.”

I laughed again. “You never quit, do you?”

“Ain’t in my vocabulary.”

“Just dinner,” I said. “And I’m paying.”

“Just dinner—and I’ll pay,” he countered, closing the back door and wiping his hands on his jeans. “And if you’re having fun, maybe a drink.”

I groaned in a tentative agreement and headed to the front of my SUV.

“I need your number, darlin’.”

“No, you don’t,” I replied, swinging the door open. “We’ll meet at the bar at seven tomorrow night.”

“I still need your number.”

“Nope.” I popped the P and pulled the door closed behind me. Starting the car, I turned up the radio and drowned him out as I put it in gear. He was watching me in the wing mirror, his broad smile lighting his face as he started to shake his head. I hung one arm out of the window in a goodbye gesture and pulled back onto the road, unable to contain my own smile as I glanced back at him in my rearview mirror.

My smile stayed with me until I pulled off the road and toward the familiar copse of trees standing together, looking more forlorn than I ever remembered them being. The arms of the oak were twisted and low, spreading out wide as the drapes of willows brushed over them dancing in the light breeze. They were wilder than they had been, messier than I remembered them ever been, but they were still there, and they were still mine.

Dustin’s and mine, anyway.

I could see more memories form like ghosts over the weak winter light, images flickering containing that first day and flipping all the way through to the last. His smiles… that look of adoration when I caught him watching me while I was reading or dozing as the music played.

I pulled in carefully under the cover of the trees, and a strange combination of laughter and a sob fell from my lips as my hands gripped the steering wheel and my knuckles went white. Dustin was everywhere. From our initials carved into one of the tree trunks to a dirty, half-buried cooler he’d left in the cover of some crossed branches, the white top now stained brown from the dirt and sap that had gathered over the years. Around the blue of the base were years worth of dead leaves and anything else that had blown against the plastic since we’d deserted it here.

I was lost in my own head. In the flood of memories that came fast and hard and assaulted me without apology, that a knock on my back window made me jump almost violently as a squeal of fright cut through the silence like a hot knife through butter.

“Shit. Sorry,” Garrett said through my open window, baring his teeth in regret when I glared at him in reprimand. This was a look I’d perfected as a mother. “I saw you pull off the road I was worried the tire didn’t hold.”

“You were following me?” I accused a hint of humor in my tone.

“As much as I would like to admit to having the idea of being a stalker, I was actually heading toward the feed store. The same place I was headed before I stopped to help with your tire.”

“Oh, right.”

Garrett’s face lit with amusement, and he crossed his arms over my open window, his shoulders taking up the open space as he ducked his head to meet my glance. “Well, hell, you look disappointed.”

“I’ve never had a stalker before. The prospect was an exciting one.” I reached over to turn down the music, which had been influencing the memories I’d been so lost in, and the small distraction gave me an excuse to put some distance between us. “Admit it. You missed me, didn’t you?”

“Fine,” he said with exaggeration and a roll of his eyes. “You fascinate me, Kay, and I like looking at you.”

I laughed and shook my head, almost glad that he’d seen me pull in. Having him here was strange, but he was also a good distraction from the strangling emotions that I wouldn’t have been able to escape had he not been there. I brushed a surreptitious hand under my eye to make sure I wasn’t crying, while Garrett looked around the small space curiously.

“What is this place?”

“A grove of trees. I spent a lot of time here as a kid.”

“Smart ass,” he mused, glancing at me, his warm eyes giving me a once over. “How’d you find it?”

“I lived close by,” I said, nodding in the general direction of my closest neighbor. I didn’t want to admit I was Jeffrey Quinten’s daughter just yet. It made everything too complicated. “I ran away from home and here is where I ended up. No one ever came by so I claimed it as my own.”

Garrett studied me for a moment and nodded in understanding, but never elaborated on the thought. He seemed to be taking everything in, including me when I glanced away from him. The heat of his gaze brushed against my skin and warmed me, even as a stirring of discomfort and excitement settled inside me.

“You’re staring, Garrett.”

“I’m aware of that.” He chuckled, his eyes lighting up when I turned my head to glance at him. “Would you like to know what I’m thinking?”

I shrugged in response—the most casual retort I could think of at that moment. Rolling his eyes, Garrett crooked a finger at me, calling me closer. I’m not really sure why I moved toward him. His call was like gravity and had taken over, and I’d moved before I so much as allowed myself to think about his request for too long.

Reaching out, Garrett curled his large, warm, calloused hand around the nape of my neck and pulled me to him so quickly I couldn’t think, his lips pressing against mine for a long, heated moment. The silky heat of his lips and the roughness of his facial hair surprised me so much I gasped, and not wasting the opportunity, Garrett’s tongue dipped inside my mouth to explore until he was the only thing I could focus on. He was gentle, yet commanding, firm but attentive, and all of the sensations came together with such a demanding force that I started to kiss him back. A new kind of hunger, filling my body until I was pushed against the door of my vehicle by him, needing to get closer. Both of his hands moved to my cheeks, the heels of his hands cradling my jaw as he took from me unapologetically.

When he finally eased back, I stayed where I was, leaning toward him, eyes closed, tongue running over my lips in absolute wonder as the heat in my body pooled low and twisted into need.

Damn.

“I’ve been thinking about that a lot since the first time I saw you,” he growled huskily, his hands dropping and leaving my cheeks cold. “Figured it was best to show you than to try to explain.”

My eyes fluttered open and found his, filled with a heat I felt to my very toes. “I’m not sure I understand. Wanna try that again?”

“See me tonight,” he said, grinning. “I can’t wait for tomorrow.”

“You think…”

“Not sex,” he chuckled heartily. “As nice and good as that would be, I‘m not an animal. I do have some self-control.”

Unfortunately, after that kiss, I wasn’t sure I could say the same. If he kissed me like that again, there was no way in hell I could stop myself from taking that step further. Then again, we were two consenting adults.

“Tonight then,” I said, nodding.

“Can I have your number?”

I shook my head and smiled. “Maybe later. See you at eight?”

He drummed the frame of my window and forced himself back from my car, smiling like the cat that got the cream. Pointing his right index finger at me, he tipped his head to the side in agreement. He looked like a starving man staring at his first meal in months.

“Don’t be late,” he finally said.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

One last smile and he shook his head in wonder as he headed to his truck. I watched him climb in, my body still leaning out of the window, locked in shock as he winked and turned over the large diesel engine.

As he pulled out, I only had a single lucid thought swimming through my head.

I was screwed.