There was nothing more comforting than comfort food. Pot roast with carrots and potatoes topped that list with honors. They sat in front of his big screen television, ate, and binged Supernatural like it was crack and they were addicts.

A fire crackled in the fireplace. Samantha curled into Dalton’s side. It was hard to think this wasn’t ideal, but their relationship was complicated. In bed, they were perfection. In the bubble of their world, they were ideal, but they hadn’t talked about tomorrow or next week or next year.

“This is perfect,” he said. He moved them both so they were lying on the couch with her back to his front.

“It’s too bad it isn’t real.” She melted against him like her body no longer had bones.

They’d loved the tension out of each other for an hour earlier, and she put tension back in him with those words.

“What part isn’t real?”

She turned around to face him. “The part we don’t talk about. The part where I have to go back to my life and leave you to yours.”

“We can work it out.” He had to stay positive, or the feelings of loss could swallow him whole. The thought of a day without Samantha would be as bad as the day the door closed and locked him in prison. That might have been better because he had a definitive date when things would go back to normal—his new normal.

Samantha lived states away. She spent months on the road. Her lifestyle didn’t lend itself to normal. He remembered Doc’s words. Samantha didn’t come here to be Indigo. She came here to figure out who she was.

“You want a long-distance relationship?”

He rose up on one elbow and pushed the hair that had fallen into her face behind her ear so he could see her eyes. All truth was in Samantha’s dark eyes. Looking into hers, he saw that she loved him as much as he loved her.

“Love looks different for everyone.” He kissed her forehead. “I thought my life was pretty good before you came along. You showed up, and bam—I realized I was lying to myself. I’d be lying to you if I said long distance is what I want. It’s not. I want you in my life and my bed every night, but I’ll take what I can get. Some of you is infinitely better than none of you.”

“You really should set your standards higher.” She snuggled into his side and inhaled. She breathed him in like she was collecting his scent for a future he wouldn’t be in.

“Higher than a hot-as-hell pop star who rocks my world and makes me feel like I can conquer anything when she’s near?”

She laughed, and the vibration felt good against his chest. “When you put it that way, I guess I’m quite a catch.”

“Have I caught you?”

“Dalton Black, I fell for you the day you left flowers and milk on my porch.”

“Don’t forget the bread and eggs,” he said. “I only bring eggs to girls I’m sure to fall in love with.” He pulled her against him and held her tight.

Her muffled voice asked, “Are there a lot of girls you’ve loved?”

“Three in my whole life.”

She narrowed her eyes. He loved the way she couldn’t help her jealousy.

“Were they pretty?”

“Stunning.”

“Hmm. Do you see them around?”

He thumbed her chin so she was forced to look at him. “One is my mother. I see her regularly. One was Bea. It was a sad day when she left us, but she left a legacy of love. The last girl … lately I’ve seen her a lot, but who knows what the future holds. All I know is I want one with her. I love you, Samantha. I don’t care that you’re a pop star. I don’t care if you have a hundred houses dotted around the world or a million dollars in the bank. None of that matters to me. All I care about is making you happy and making you fall in love with me.”

She swallowed hard like she was eating sand. “I’ve never said these words to anyone, but I love you, Dalton. Not because you’re sex on a stick or because you have the most talented tongue in the universe or because you cook better than Bobby Flay. All I want is to care for you and love you so you don’t regret the day you left me flowers and milk and bread and eggs.”

She kissed him tenderly and passionately, and although she said the words for the first time, his heart felt like she’d told him a thousand times. When the kiss ended, he rose to a seated position. “Bobby Flay has cooked for you?”

She shook from a full belly laugh. “Yes. So have Wolfgang Puck, Gordon Ramsay, and Mario Batali, but they’ve got nothing on you.” She curled into the corner of his leather couch and propped her feet on his lap. “You think I have a hundred houses?”

“No, but it sounded good. I imagine if we’re going to try to make a go of this thing, and since we both let the L-word out, we should be transparent about our lives.”

“You want transparency?”

“No, all I want is to be honest with you. Our relationship started on a mound of omissions. I’m an ex-felon. I killed a man. I’m a cook. Actually, I’m a cook at a diner. My employment potential is limited. I’ll never be able to give you what you’re used to, but I’ll love you deeply. I don’t care if your hair is blue, brown, or gray. I’ll love you anyway.” He reached over and laid his hand on her heart. “I love you here, and that’s all that matters.”

She pressed her left hand over his and pinned it to her chest.

“I’m a pop star. I love the music, but hate the fame. I have brown hair and plan to keep it that way. I own two properties. One is a house outside Los Angeles. One is a tiny cabin in Aspen Cove. I prefer Aspen Cove. I have a million dollars. Not on me but invested or in the bank. In fact, I have several, but it doesn’t have the value that your love does. I don’t know where all this will lead, but I’d like to find out.”

She crawled across his body and straddled his lap. What they didn’t finish on the couch, they completed in the bedroom. Exhausted, Samantha fell asleep naked in his arms. He wondered how he’d gotten so lucky. It was funny how luck came packaged as trouble. Samantha was that, but she was so much more.

He’d dozed off when the acrid smell of smoke filled the air. He was certain he’d banked the fire. His confidence faltered when the fire alarm rang through the silence.

He jumped out of his bed and into his jeans. He tugged on his boots and shook Samantha awake.

“Sweetheart, you need to get up. Get dressed.”

She groaned and buried her head under the pillow.

“Samantha,” he roared. “Get up. There’s a fire.”

That was one word that could wake anyone from a deep sleep. She stumbled out of bed and struggled to get her clothes on. Dalton ran through his house but saw nothing. The fire alarms wailed in the distance.

When he stepped onto his porch, he saw Samantha’s cabin engulfed in flames. He called it in. They had a phone tree for the volunteer firefighters, which included every able-bodied man in Aspen Cove.

Minutes later, while the wood of her cabin crackled and splintered under the heat, dozens of men donned whatever protective gear they had and went to work dousing the flames. Sage and Katie ran to get to Samantha, while Cannon and Bowie jumped into the melee. Even Doc Parker was there, beating back the fire so it didn’t spread. In minutes, Samantha’s car was set ablaze. As Bobby Williams raced with the hose to douse the new flames, it exploded, sending him back a dozen feet.

Dalton wanted to race to his friend, but Doc was already headed in that direction. The flames were out of control in the house. If they didn’t get them under control, everyone nearby would lose their homes, including him.

The fire was already licking at the siding of his cabin. The freshly sandblasted section didn’t stand a chance. Phillip Butler showed up with a case of bottled water from his Corner Store, and his wife carried boxes of snacks. It was a welcome gift for the firefighters.

The Dawson’s only son and Lawyer Frank Arden showed up minutes later. They took charge of a hose and kept a steady stream of water where Dalton’s siding had turned black.

He looked around for Samantha. He found her standing near Bowie and Katie’s cabin with a look of horror on her face. He followed her line of sight to where Bobby laid on the ground with flames licking at his already burned skin. Dalton raced toward his friend to get him as far away from the smoke and flames as possible.