Chapter 22

It was no shock Alex woke up in a damn foul mood. Sure, sex was supposed to lift a man’s spirits, but when a perfectly wonderful night was ruined by the shadows and ghosts of his past…

“Fuck,” he muttered, scrubbing his hands over his face, hard and unflinching. His behavior last night was all too clear in his head.

He didn’t know how he could have done it differently. Not in the middle of a terrifying nightmare that was both memory and fiction. The smell of flowers and Becca. The smell of explosives and death.

It had all been too wrapped up together when he should have been able to sleep, or at least dream lightly enough he didn’t wake her. Didn’t stir up that damn pity.

He wanted her pity less than he wanted just about anyone’s.

He just wished he’d had the presence of mind to handle it better. He just wished he’d been able to avoid the way she’d hugged him, kissed him, told him it was all perfect.

What a lot of patronizing bullshit. Someone waking you up with their fucked-up nightmare wasn’t perfect. In any world.

But he could either lie here and dwell on it, beat himself up over it, or stand fast in his conviction that leaving her room had been the right thing to do. He’d gotten out of there so she could sleep, so she could do it without him thrashing around or whatever he’d been doing.

That was the problem. He didn’t remember. None of it was clear until he’d been crouching on the ground and she’d been reaching out to him. Before that it was all a mist of explosions and blood and yelling, Mom’s voice weak and shaken—none of it real.

At least, not real in this time.

But whatever. A nightmare was a nightmare, and maybe he’d keep having them and maybe he wouldn’t. Sadly, he couldn’t control his subconscious. But he could try to wear himself out so completely it didn’t win.

He’d work out this morning, then this evening as well. He’d force his body to do things he hadn’t done since his initial training days. Then surely, surely, he would sleep normally again.

Maybe if he did all that, he could fathom sharing a bed with Becca, but until he could get through a night without the plague of ghosts, he wasn’t sharing a damn bed with her.

She had to give him the space to fix himself. He tried not to think about the disappointment he’d undoubtedly see on her face. Or worse, that pity. Oh, she wanted to disguise it in help and holding and comfort, but it all boiled down to pity that Alex Maguire wasn’t half as tough as he should be.

He would not stand for it. He didn’t have to. No rules, codes, missions. Just him and what he wanted. He did not want that.

He forced himself out of bed and pulled on clothes. He’d grab some coffee, maybe take a run around the ranch or something to get the blood pumping, and then he’d go to work. Because even if everything with Becca last night up to the nightmare had been damn near perfect, it didn’t mean he got to ignore work.

There was a lot to do before winter. A whole hell of a lot. Once that work was done, things would fall into place. He was sure of it.

He trudged down the stairs and into the kitchen, stopping short when he realized the figure pouring water into the coffeemaker was Becca.

She looked at him over her shoulder. “Hi,” she offered, smiling. Sort of. Not one of those full-wattage things, which made him feel like dirt.

“Hi. I mean, morning. I mean…” Seriously, what was wrong with him? He was not some tongue-tied teenager. “Neither of the guys up yet?”

She shook her head. “Not that I’ve seen.”

Okay. So that was fine. The guys were still sleeping and Becca was making the coffee and he…

Needed to stop being a baby. He opened his mouth to ask something inane about breakfast, but she started speaking at the same time.

“Sorry,” they said in unison.

Christ, this was like high school. When she didn’t speak, just stood there looking flushed and fidgety, he took a few steps forward.

“Sleep okay?”

Her gaze met his for the first time, and those green eyes held all sorts of emotions that poked at all the reasons he should never have let last night happen. It seemed inevitable he would hurt her now, and that sucked.

Except nothing is inevitable if you work hard enough.

“Not really,” she returned, clasping her hands together, then letting them go, then clasping them again. “You? I mean…after?”

“All right.” Which was mostly true. He’d managed a few hours of dreamless sleep. To his knowledge.

“Right.”

She looked somehow bothered by that, or hurt, and he wouldn’t stand for it. Awkwardly, far too awkwardly, he reached out and touched her cheek.

She looked up at him through her lashes, her mouth curving slightly. Pretty and tempting. Complicated. But her skin was soft and warm, and she still smelled like flowers.

Hell.

He lowered his mouth to hers, slowly, giving her a chance to back away if she wanted to. After last night, wouldn’t she want to?

But she moved up onto her toes and met his mouth with hers. Soft and sweet and willing. It was so damn easy, to sink into it and her. To wrap his arms around her and pull her closer to him, to trace her lips with his tongue until she opened for him.

She tangled her fingers in his hair, and he smoothed his hand over the sweet curve of her ass. This…this was what he wanted.

They kissed until he’d pushed the dark tangle of emotion completely out of his mind. Until he didn’t know where he was or what time it was or why she tasted like… Finally he managed to pull back an inch. “Why do you taste like cake?”

She gestured vaguely toward the sink where a few bowls were piled up. “I made muffins. Cake’s sadder little brother.”

“What kind of—no, let me guess.” And then he took her mouth again, feeding off the laugh against his lips until every bad part of last night vanished from his head.

A loud groan sounded from somewhere, and Becca jerked away. Alex kept a firm hold of her though. Hell if he was letting someone interrupt this.

“Come on,” Gabe said, stepping into the kitchen as Becca squirmed out of Alex’s grasp. “That’s the last thing a single man wants to see first thing in the morning.”

“Then go away,” Alex returned.

Gabe shook his head. “No make-out session shall keep me from my coffee. You could be going at it on the kitchen table and it wouldn’t stop me.”

Becca turned an all-too-appealing shade of pink as Gabe strode for the coffeemaker, which had finally finished making coffee.

“Okay, ground rules,” he said as he poured his coffee and then turned to face them, all mock seriousness. “No kissing in common areas.” He pointed to Alex, then Becca. “No groping. No sex talk, and for the love of God, no pet names.”

“I was really committed to the idea of calling Alex shnookums,” Becca returned deadpan.

Gabe laughed, either at Becca or the horrified look on Alex’s face, or maybe both.

“That one I’ll allow. But run it by Jack first and make sure I’m there so I can see his face.”

“Well, anyway. Muffins are in the oven. Take them out when the timer goes off.” Becca moved away from Alex and grabbed a thermos.

“You aren’t staying to eat?” Alex asked.

She shook her head and poured the coffee. “I need to check on the horses. If Knightly doesn’t eat his breakfast, I need to call the vet again. But I’m on lunch duty, unless something goes wrong.”

“We can put Jack on it if you get waylaid.”

She nodded, screwing the lid of the thermos on. “See you later, shnookums,” she offered sweetly. She walked past the table and Gabe, giving him a pat on the shoulder. “Bye, sweet cheeks.”

“I’m kind of in love with her,” Gabe said on a laugh after she’d exited the room. He must have noticed that Alex found that humorous, oh, not at all, and cleared his throat. “Platonically, of course.”

“Damn straight platonically.”

“Why, you already in love with her?”

“Why are you such a damn woman?” Alex muttered, grabbing his mug.

“I find that a very intriguing nonanswer.”

“Find this very intriguing,” Alex returned, flipping Gabe off as he went over to the oven where he could now smell Becca’s muffins baking.

Love? So not something he was even going to contemplate. That was for people who had their shit together. Not that he didn’t have his shit together, but…

Okay, maybe not completely together. Mostly. Ish. Whatever. Wasn’t relevant, because none of this was relevant. So, subconscious him wasn’t as in control as he’d prefer—once everything was in place, he would be.

He flicked a glance at Gabe. They’d been through most everything together since BUD/S. A happenstance of time and place, two kids from opposite sides of the country, completely different childhoods, and they’d landed in that same place.

And been friends ever since. From the navy to the SEALs, pushing each other to do better and to be better. Surviving close calls and then surviving the end together.

If there was anyone he could talk to, it would likely be Gabe.

“Something you want to say?” Gabe asked, sliding into the chair across from him.

It was tempting, momentarily, to spill his guts. But for what? What would it do? So he had some nightmares. So they were currently affecting his life. It wasn’t exactly life-shattering stuff. Gabe had his own shit to deal with.

“Nope. Everything’s fine.” The refrain was starting to sound thin even to his ears.

* * *

Becca found that it was beyond weird to be 99.9 percent ecstatically happy and that 0.1 percent…worried or something.

It shouldn’t matter, that 0.1 percent. Not when it was so small. Not when the happiness and excitement and hey, guess what, not a virgin giddiness was so big.

But it seemed no matter how hard she tried to push it down or away, drown it in memories of last night under the stars or this morning in the kitchen, that little percentage of a percent niggled. Poked.

She shook her head and focused on the work ahead of her.

Knightly had eaten, so she’d been able to forgo the follow-up call to the vet. She’d taken Pal through the therapeutic horsemanship course she’d been setting up for them. She’d been in periodic telephone contact with Monica regarding moving sooner rather than later, if only so Becca could get her mentorship hours underway.

The only thing currently holding them back on that front was housing for Monica and her son. And maybe, just maybe, Becca had concerns about what might happen when Monica finally did show up.

As much as she wanted it to happen and as important as she knew Monica’s role would be to their foundation, she also knew that all three men had reservations about having a therapist on staff.

God knew they all needed it, but…what did she know about forcing people into a kind of healing she’d never had to dream about?

Her phone trilled for approximately the tenth time this morning. Becca knew she couldn’t ignore it for much longer without risking Mom coming out to the ranch, but what did she say? She’d already told Mom she’d be working all day and couldn’t text back. Did Mom want her to get more specific?

That she didn’t want to talk? That she didn’t want Mom to ruin the happiness Becca was feeling? Because as guilty as it made her feel, Becca was pretty darn certain her mom’s reaction about her and Alex would not be a pleasant one.

Well, it’s never going to be, so maybe you should suck it up and deal with it.

Damn that rational voice in her head.

She dug her phone out of her pocket as she led Pal back to the stables, but before she could read the text, a voice greeted her.

“Hey.”

Becca glanced up to find Alex striding toward her from the bunkhouse, where she knew he and Gabe were working. Apparently Jack had been deemed unhandy and relegated to calf duty with Hick.

It was downright stupid how everything in her mind and body just…vanished because Alex was there. But when he was there, tall and strong and otherworldly hot, a damn marvel, it was hard to think of anything else.

Except that he’d kissed her and touched her and made her feel like she’d never felt before. Made her feel like she’d never believed an isolated, bumbling girl like her could.

He was magic, and of course that wasn’t going to be perfect. Even magic wasn’t perfect. She just had to deal with the slightly uncomfortable notion that he had nightmares he wouldn’t address. The sneaking suspicion he might never want to share a bed or those troubled pieces of himself. That wasn’t such a terrible price to pay for this beautiful man walking toward her, smiling at her, kissing her at breakfast, and all the other things.

“I think we’re going to have to call in a professional for the plumbing issues in the bunkhouse. Do have the number for that guy you were talking about earlier?”

“Yeah, it should be on the fridge under the llama magnet.”

“The…llama…magnet.”

“Oh yeah. Felicity has this whole collection of adorable llama stuff for sale at the store ever since Dan Sharpe started his llama ranch. People are gaga over it. I bought some llama socks.”

“Llama…magnet. Gaga. Llama…ranch and socks. No. I don’t want you to explain to me. I want to pretend I never heard those sentences.” He shook his head in horror, adorably perplexed. “I’m going to go give him a call.”

Becca tried not to look disappointed at the fact that this little stop by had been business related and nothing else. There would be times when they would have to discuss business-only things with each other, and there would be no touching or smiling or flirting during those times.

But Alex didn’t turn away.

Her mouth curved. “Was there something else?”

“No. I’m going to go get that number.” But the corners of his mouth twitched, and instead of walking toward the house, he took a step toward her. So she did the same thing, pulling Pal along with her as she took a step toward him.

“You’ve got a good horse there.”

“He’s been very good to me. Reliable. Calm. Patient. Sweet.”

“Please tell me you aren’t comparing me to a horse.”

“Me? Compare someone to an animal? That’s just downright silly.”

“Ha.”

Another step for him, and then another step for her. By this point they were both grinning and incrementally getting closer to each other.

“You know, I didn’t come over here to make out with you,” Alex said, failing to look serious.

“Well, that’s a darn shame,” she replied, not even trying for serious.

“And we have things to do. Work. Very important work,” he continued.

“It is very important work.”

But now they were standing nearly toe to toe and grinning like idiots. She couldn’t think of anything she wouldn’t overlook for moments like this. To have someone look at her like that and want to spend time with her. Not a mother or a stepfather, just a person. Just a guy. A guy who genuinely liked her. Goofy, fidgety, odd, little her. He didn’t even make her feel goofy or odd. He made her feel smart and beautiful. Like every confident thought she’d ever had about herself was right.

Pal nickered and stamped, clearly irritated about the pause in their movement toward the stable.

“You know,” Alex began, his voice a shade rough. “If you go inside to make lunch a little early, and I go inside to make the phone call to the plumber…it’s possible we might end up in the same room. Preferably naked.”

She burst out laughing even as she blushed a little. She loved that he would say something like that to her, but thinking about him naked…about sneaking inside to…

Well, yeah, she was a little warm.

“You have a very dirty mind. This inexperienced young woman finds it perplexing.”

“Then I guess I’ll just have to corrupt you a bit more than I have.”

“I was really hoping you’d say that.”

His mouth was a precious centimeter from her mouth, and she was ready to grab on to the thrill of going inside and making out while everyone else was working. It was awful. Terrible. Irresponsible and wrong. Possibly the most exciting thing she’d ever heard.

A loud, long honk interrupted the forward trajectory of both their mouths. Alex’s brow furrowed and Becca looked over past the stables to the part of the lane that she could see.

Her mom’s car was parked there. Which was odd considering that the end of the drive itself was a few more yards up.

“I’m guessing she didn’t like what she saw,” Alex offered.

Becca sighed, all the excitement of the moment flowing out of her like she was a popped balloon. “Oh, I can almost guarantee it.”

Alex studied something. Whether it was Mom’s car, the sky, the mountains, the ranch house itself, she couldn’t tell. She could only tell he was deep in thought, and she wasn’t sure she liked whatever he was thinking about.

“Did you tell your mother about what happened last night?” he asked, that dark, unreadable gaze finally turning to her.

“Yes, Alex. I texted my mother last night. Virginity finally shed. It was fantastic. You should probably bake me a celebratory sex cake.”

“I don’t know what women talk about with their mothers.”

But she couldn’t get over the idea this was more than that. “Do you…not want me to tell her?”

“I want you to do whatever you feel comfortable doing. And whatever you choose to do, I will stand by that.”

“You don’t want a say in it?”

He smiled a little at that. “No, sweetheart. I think whatever stand you’re trying to make with your mom probably starts with deciding what to tell her about your life.”

“That sounds reasonable and awful.”

“Welcome to life: reasonable and awful.”

Mom was swiftly approaching and Becca knew she had to make a decision. An adult decision. If she wanted her mom to treat her like one, she had to be one.

“Hi, Mom. What brings you out this way?”

“You weren’t answering my text messages,” Mom returned, though her glare was on Alex, who was standing there, as if he would, in fact, stand by whatever she said.

“I told you I’d be working in the stables, and I wouldn’t have time to text back. It didn’t necessitate a trip out.”

“Yes. Clearly you’re so busy working.”

Becca took a deep breath. There was being an adult, and there was being a masochist. Alex being around for this conversation was more masochist than adult. She turned to him and smiled thinly. “Why don’t you go call the plumber?”

“You sure?” he asked, searching her face.

God, she liked him. She nodded and gave his arm a squeeze. “Thanks.”

He took a few steps forward, nodding at Mom. “Sandra. Good to see you.”

Mom didn’t say anything, though she was clearly livid, but Alex didn’t say anything more. He walked toward the ranch, giving Becca one last look over his shoulder, and that bolstered her. Because if he were in this position, if he were standing here having to explain himself to his dad, she knew he would stand there with that soldier posture and do it. He’d be honest and certain, so that’s all she needed to do.

“Why are you really here?” Becca asked Mom as gently as she could manage.

“Because I’m worried about you. I didn’t like how we ended our conversation last week, and I don’t like how things have been. You weren’t answering my texts. All you would say was you’re busy, so I had to come out here. I am not a stupid woman, Becca Denton. I know what I saw.”

“I know what you saw too.”

“I told those boys to watch after you. I certainly didn’t mean…”

“What? You didn’t mean for them to like me? To be interested in me?” She’d never quite felt like this before. Like she was the rational one, arguing with her mother’s irrational behavior. She’d always felt wrong or ungrateful for arguing with Mom, but…she was too old for this. She was too… She couldn’t play the game anymore. She didn’t want to.

“You don’t have a clue what men are like,” Mom said firmly, eyes flashing with a million hurts Becca would never understand.

It softened her. “You’re right. I don’t. But I know what Alex is like.”

“After a few weeks?” Mom scoffed.

“Yes, actually. We’ve talked a lot, and we have a lot in common—a lot of shared people if not shared memories. I’ve never been afforded that—friendship. Companionship. No one has ever given me what he has.”

She hadn’t meant to hurt Mom, but she knew in the aftermath of those words, saying that someone else had given her something her mother never had was a cut. Which wasn’t fair to either of them, but there it was.

She wanted to cry or apologize. She wanted to run away, but that wasn’t what independent adults did. It wasn’t who she wanted to be anymore.

“Shared people. Yes, you were raised by the same father, and that doesn’t strike you as problematic?” Mom demanded.

It was such a grasp at straws. “No. No, it doesn’t, and you know it doesn’t. Alex was never here. He was never a son to you. My relationship with Burt never had anything to do with Alex. You were there. You know that as well as Alex and I do.”

“I don’t know a thing that Alex knows. Everything about this strikes me as a much older man taking advantage of a young, naive girl.”

Becca tried to shake off the word naive. It wasn’t meant to be an insult, so she focused on the point of Mom’s argument. “The age difference is smaller than your age difference with Burt.”

“That was different. I had a child. I was emotionally mature.”

That one hurt. She wanted to be the rational adult, but it cut. Hard. “Do you think this little of me?”

“I think the world of you,” Mom snapped.

“It doesn’t feel like it.” Becca swallowed at the emotion clogging her throat. She’d swallowed these emotions for so long now though. Maybe she needed to do what she wanted Alex to do. Open up. Explain. Talk about it. “It feels like you think I’m stupid and frail and can’t handle myself. I know that’s not what you mean, but I can’t help but feel that.”

Mom’s lips pressed so tightly together they disappeared, and she was silent for the longest time. So Becca could only go further, give more.

“I really like being with Alex. He took me out on a date last night, and it was nice and fun. It was good. I know I don’t have any experience dating guys, and I know most of your experience with men was not good, but, Mom, this was really, really good. I’m happy with him. You don’t need to jump with joy that I’m growing up, that I am building something with a man, but I need… Mom, I need you to treat me like you trust me, like you believe in me.”

“It’s not you, Becca. It’s him. I know you think you know him because he’s Burt’s son, but what do you know about a man who was a soldier overseas for so long? Who never visited his father? What do you know about what he did over there? What do you know about him really? Maybe you know about his childhood, and maybe you know the people he knew, but has he really opened up his heart to you and told you about the hard things he must’ve seen or done? Has he talked about the future? Or is he just telling you what you want to hear?”

Becca tried not to visibly react to that, because she didn’t want Mom to see that it landed. Poking at that 0.1 percent of worry or dissatisfaction. No, Alex hadn’t opened up about whatever gave him nightmares, but that was fine. He didn’t need to. They hadn’t talked about futures exactly, but she hadn’t brought it up either.

“I, um, get what you’re saying,” Becca managed, because she couldn’t lie to her mom and say he’d given her all those things. And yet…it was one date. It was a few moments. It was still so early.

They were building. It was fine. And what if you’re building without a foundation?

“So you’ll be careful and take things very, very slowly?” Mom prompted.

Becca assumed Mom was talking about sex, and since that ship had sailed… Well. “I’m very careful. But what are you so afraid of happening?”

“That he will break your heart,” Mom returned as if it were the only possibility. “That you will fall in love with him, head over heels, stupidly and irresponsibly, and then be devastated when he doesn’t give you what you want him to give you. It’s very easy to want something from a man and want it so hard and so badly you overlook everything else. But he won’t ever give you what you’re looking for. You can’t make a man give you something.”

Becca rubbed her hand over Pal’s muzzle, trying to keep all reactions under the surface. She knew this stemmed from Mom’s experiences with Becca’s father and the ensuing fallout with her family. Becca knew this wasn’t about her and Alex, but…

It hit that sore spot again. If Alex didn’t want to talk about his nightmares, and he didn’t want to address them, she’d never be able to make him. There would always be this thing standing between them. The things he kept locked away.

But did it matter when it was 99.9 percent good?

“Alex is a really good guy and he would never purposefully hurt me.” She knew that deep in her bones. His conscience wouldn’t stand for it. “But if I do get hurt, then that’s life. I’ve never had my heart broken. Is it really such a bad thing to put myself in a position where it might happen?”

“Having had my heart broken, crushed, losing my entire family and everything I had because of it? Yes, it’s that bad, Becca. I think you’re bright and sweet and wonderful and smart, but all of those things are so easy for men to stomp on. I would never accept my child having to go through what I went through. I can trust you and still feel that.”

Becca let go of Pal’s reins, trusting him to stay put or not wander far. She took her mother by the shoulders, needing this conversation to be over as much as she needed Mom to understand. Really. Truly.

“Mom, in some insane pseudo-world where I get knocked up and Alex wants nothing to do with the baby—which would never happen, by the way—I know you would never let your pride or your skewed morals or whatever it was that your parents had to hold on to stand in the way of me. I know you would support me, and you would give me everything, the same way you always have. So maybe I’m not afraid to have my heart broken because I know without one tiny shadow of a doubt that I have a soft place to land. No matter what I do or say, I know, I know, you’ll always be there for me. Won’t you be?”

Mom sniffled, clearly blinking back tears. “I hate this place,” she croaked, waving her arm to encompass the whole of the ranch. “I hate being here and remembering him and I hate that you’re all grown up.”

“I can’t fix any of those things.”

“No, you can’t. And neither can I.” She let out a long breath. “I keep thinking I can. If I work hard enough, pretend hard enough, I can make all the hurt go away.” She stepped away from Becca’s hands and rubbed her chest.

“Mom.”

“No, you’re right. I’m sorry. I want to protect you because that’s my soft place to land. My comfort zone was always fighting for you.” She stepped forward and rubbed Pal’s nuzzle. “I would and will be here for you no matter what happens. I’ll protect you.”

“Just love me,” Becca returned.

Mom looked over at her, still pained, but Becca thought maybe they’d had a good talk. She had to remember that even though it had been a year, her mother was still grieving and getting used to her new life. It wasn’t an exciting new start like it was for Becca. Mom had to figure out who she was and what she wanted to be all over again.

“I do love you,” Mom finally said. “More than I’d ever be able to…” She shook her head, still teary, still struggling. “Love is complicated, and I’m sorry if mine ever…hurt you.”

“I love you too, and I’m sorry if mine ever hurt you.”

Mom managed a wobbly smile. “I used to think love shouldn’t hurt, but once you’re a mom, you realize it always will.”

Becca thought of Alex, of the pain in watching him struggle with that nightmare last night, and she understood that in a way she might not have not so long ago. Love did hurt, but she wanted to believe it could heal too. When you opened up like this.

She thought she understood her mother better, and that her mom understood her better.

“You could always help us. I know being on the ranch is hard, but there are things you could do for the foundation in town.” Involve Mom instead of shut her out.

“There are?”

“Sure. In fact, I’m trying to find a place for the therapist I’ve hired. She has a son. He’s nine. She said they don’t need much, but something affordable, obviously. Something close to the ranch, but close to a bus stop for the school. You know people and talk to people in town. Maybe you could see if anyone’s renting anything out or selling. We could use help from someone who’s not drowning in ranch life. What do you say?”

Mom dropped her hand from Pal and stepped forward, taking Becca’s hands in hers. “I say I have an unbelievably amazing daughter who humbles me daily.”

“Who’s everything she is because of you.”

“And Burt.”

Becca smiled. “And a few very good animal listeners.”

Mom managed a laugh.

“Mom, I know you don’t want to see my heart broken, and you have reservations about Alex, but I really, really like him and how I feel with him. He makes me feel strong and confident, and you know I’ve never felt either of those things.”

“So, back off, Mom. Huh?” Mom said with a heavy sigh.

“Just a little.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Then come in and help me make lunch. Eat with us. I think if you spent some time…”

But Mom was looking at the ranch house, ghosts flashing through her eyes, painfully enough Becca didn’t finish.

“Not today, sweetheart. I need to work up to going in there again. That dinner was one thing because I was protecting you, but being in there just to be in there? I can’t. Not yet. I’m going to head back to town, and I will find you your affordable housing for your therapist. How does that sound?”

“Perfect.”

Becca knew life was never perfect. In fact, every time it felt a little bit perfect, something drastic happened to upend everything. But she didn’t want to think about the possibility of that right now.

Right now, she was going to enjoy the perfect while it lasted.