Dan dunked his head in the ice-cold water streaming from the outside faucet behind the barn.

It washed away the field dust he'd accumulated on today's long ride, but did nothing for the ache burning inside him.

He turned the off spigot, blinked water away from his eyes and shook his head like a dog.

"You really gonna let her get away?"

He stumbled, sure his ears were playing tricks on him. When he focused against the harsh mid-afternoon sunlight, he caught sight of Nate standing a couple yards away, arms crossed like they’d been the day he'd confronted Dan outside the barn.

"What?"

Maybe if he pretended he hadn't heard, his boss would go away.

"I asked if you're going to let the best thing that's ever happened to you get away. Megan," Nate drawled, as if Dan were too slow to figure out what he meant.

Dan didn't want to talk about it. Not with Nate. Not with anyone.

He only shook his head.

But Nate wouldn’t be deterred. "Somebody like her wanted to be with me, I'd be all over that. What's wrong with you?"

Dan gritted his teeth. "You've made it plenty clear you don't want anything to do with me. Why don't you leave it alone?"

Nate's expression shifted from disinterest to something sharper. He stepped closer. His hands came down and fisted at his sides. "I made it clear?"

Anger, guilt, frustration rose up to choke Dan. Somehow he still managed to grind out, "I wish you'd just take a swing at me. Get it over with. I know I ruined our friendship. You think I don't know that? You think I don't regret it every single day?"

Nate's expression changed again. He stepped closer, and Dan braced for a punch. It would hurt, but maybe it would take some of the edge off of missing Megan.

"I don't want to punch you, you big dope. I've been waiting for you to say sorry so I can tell you I forgive you."

What?

He had?

Dan was dumbfounded. "I'm sorry." His voice emerged rough.

"I forgive you. Dope."

Nate hauled him in, not for a punch but for a man-hug. One that Dan had never let himself hope for.

Nate shoved him as he pulled out of the hug. "About time, man."

Moisture burned in Dan's eyes but he blinked it away. He could only give Nate so much ammunition.

"Come for dinner tonight," Nate said. "Kayla will set you straight about the good doctor."

Dan shook his head. "I can't."

Nate’s smile faded, and his eyes narrowed.

"It's... really hard for me to leave the Triple H. There's still a part of me… it's like an itch I can never scratch. A little devil sitting on my shoulder, telling me to drive past your house and hit up the nearest casino."

Nate clapped him on the shoulder. "Admitting it is one of the steps to recovery, man. Come for dinner, and then come home to the Triple H. I'll call and check up on you, if you want. You can't stay isolated out here forever."

That Nate had slipped right back into their years-long friendship felt right. An enormous gift Dan had never expected.

But—

"It won't do any good. Siccing Kayla only me. Megan is... too good for me."

Nate laughed outright. "Welcome to the club, man. You've met Kayla, right? And Kelsey? Sarah? Carrie? Every single one of those gals is too good for the likes of us. But they love us anyway."

Dan shook his head. "Not me. I'm not..."

Nate shoved his shoulder. "You've had this thing since we were kids. Not seeing your own worth. Maybe 'cause of your mom."

Dan gritted his teeth. He hated it that the entire town knew about his family's dirty laundry.

"Putting myself out there feels like... the biggest gamble of my life. If I tell her how I feel and she doesn't want me, I lose."

"Everything." Nate nodded, expression serious now. "Been there. But what if you don't take the risk? What if you lose the best thing that's ever happened to you?"

Dan didn't know how he could bear it. A week without Megan and he felt like a zombie, barely able to get through his days. He missed her with a visceral ache.

She'd kissed him back. He kept trying to tell himself he’d imagined it. Couldn’t quite convince himself.

But her emotions had been high after Brady's near-choking episode.

What if it had been a heat-of-the-moment thing?

He loved her.

But what if she felt nothing for him?

Did he have the guts to find out?