I heard Beau’s truck before I saw it. It was as old as dirt, and after he finished building his house, he planned on buying a new one. None of these things were happening fast enough as far as Beau was concerned, so I did everything I could to help him.

I finished nailing down the sheet of roof iron that had come loose, slid my hammer in my belt, and climbed down the ladder.

Beau climbed out of his truck and tossed something my way.

I caught it. The nails I’d wanted. “Thanks.”

Beau reached back into his truck and came out with a bag in one hand and a plate in the other.

He grinned. “Beer and” —he lifted the plate higher— “cake.”

I smirked. “One of your admirers?”

Beau started toward me. “Nope.”

“Where did it come from?” I asked as we headed to the seats on the porch.

“Birdie,” Beau said casually.

I stumbled up the step, then spun to face him. “Birdie? You saw her?”

Beau followed me up the stairs, took a seat, pulled a beer from the bag, and took his sweet goddamn time answering me.

He twisted off the cap, took a sip, and sat back. “Yep.”

Yep?

Asshole.

I hadn’t seen her in two goddamn weeks and I was slowly losing my mind. “You want to elaborate?” I gritted out.

His eyes, identical to mine, slid my way. “What do you want to know?”

Jesus, he had me. I’d been acting like I didn’t care, that walking away from her was no big deal. He knew I was full of it, though. Why the hell did I even bother trying to pretend otherwise? “Everything,” I rasped, giving up all pretense of not caring. “Tell me everything.”

My brother’s eyes softened, and I hated it, hated that he could see how much this was killing me, because it would hurt him just as much to see me this way. That’s just how we were.

He sat forward. “I saw her outside the library. She’d just finished for the day.”

My fingers curled at my sides. “How did she look?”

“Pretty,” Beau said. “She was wearing these jeans with butterflies and shit at the pockets, and a fluffy blue sweater. All that beautiful dark wavy hair of hers was loose down her back.” He took a pull of his beer and levelled his eyes back on me. “And sad, Hank. She looked like she’d lost someone she loved.”

I jerked back. “What?”

“There was no way to miss it, the pain she was feeling, but there was a split second when she first spotted me, just a moment, where I knew she thought I was you…and, brother, she lit up like a sunrise.”

I gripped one of the porch railings. “You talked to her?”

“She asked after you, wanted to know how long I was in town and if I could swing by her place before I headed home.” He motioned to the cake. “She rushed home and baked that for you. Wanted me to drop it off.”

I looked at the cake. Chocolate. She remembered how much I liked it. How my grandmother used to make me one every birthday.

“Think it’d only be polite to thank her in person, don’t you?” Beau said.

I looked at my brother. “I don’t know, I can’t—”

“She’s leaving, Hank.”

My knees nearly buckled. “What?”

Beau leveled me with a look that made my gut clench painfully. “She was in the middle of packing.”

No.

“She’s not Mom,” Beau said, and shoved his fingers through his hair. “Birdie’s hurting. She cares about you. Christ, I think she might love you.” He shook his head. “That makes you the luckiest bastard I know. I’d give anything for that, for a good woman like Birdie.”

I straightened. I’d never heard Beau talk like that. “But she’s leaving…”

“Ask her to stay,” he said.

I stared at Beau, still trying to recover from the eighteen-wheeler this news had just driven through my chest, but my brother hadn’t finished.

“You’re not the only one who has shit they’re dealing with because of Mom, and it’s taken me a long time, a lot of wrong turns, to work out what I want. And, Hank, if you don’t go to her and tell you how you feel, if you don’t stop her from getting in her car and driving away, that would also make you the dumbest bastard I know.”

“What if she leaves anyway?” I said, voice like nails on rusted tin.

Beau held my stare. “What if she doesn’t?”

Birdie

I stood at the bathroom counter and looked at my pale reflection.

How long would it take for this not to hurt so much, for me not to miss him like something vital had been torn out of me?

As every day passed I was more convinced that there would never be relief from it. I loved him. That didn’t just go away. It might fade in time, but I knew with everything in me that I would always feel this way.

Staying in this town, having him close…I couldn’t do it anymore. I had to go.

I finished washing my face, patted it dry, and pulled my hair band out, letting my hair fall loose.

Did he like the cake? Was he eating it now?

Was he thinking of me?

I knew he liked to be alone, but the thought of him in that house all by himself—I hated it. I worried that he might be lonely, if he was taking care of himself, if he was eating properly. Ridiculous. The man had been taking care of himself all his life. He certainly wasn’t starving himself. He didn’t need me.

Still, I’d made the damned cake, my way of saying goodbye, I guess. I wanted to do something that would make him happy, maybe even put a smile on his face.

Let him know I cared.

I weaved around the boxes stacked in the hall, into my bedroom, and changed for bed. The long-sleeved white thermal top had blue polka dots and was long, hitting mid-thigh. I never bothered with PJ bottoms when I wore it—they only twisted during the night and made me crazy.

It wasn’t late, but I was tired since I hadn’t been sleeping much lately. I knew I’d still end up staring at the ceiling all night, but I had to try and get back into a routine. My old routine, before Hank.

I headed to the kitchen and grabbed a glass out of one of the boxes on the counter.

There was a knock at the kitchen door.

I spun toward it, my hand flying to my chest.

The door was half wood, half clear glass. It was at the back of the house, so I’d never really worried about it.

Standing on the other side of the window, one hand to the doorframe, head close to the glass, eyes locked on me…was Hank.

Oh God.

I was moving across the room before my brain fully registered.

I flicked the lock and yanked open the door.

“You’re leaving?” he said on a harsh whisper.

“Hank…”

He stepped forward, colliding with me, and my words stalled in my throat when his arms banded around me and he buried his face against the side of my throat.

My heart pounded against the back of my ribs as I listened to him breathe deep.

“God, I missed you so damn much,” he said against my skin, his big body trembling against mine. “Can’t think, can’t eat, can’t fucking breathe without you.” His lips brushed my neck. “Need you, Birdie, need you so bad. You can’t, you can’t leave me.”

My hand went to the side of his face. “I need you, too.” His head lifted, mouth seeking mine as I did the same. His tongue thrust past my lips, tangling with mine, and there was a desperation, an urgency, that made my head spin.

His big, rough-skinned hands dropped to my ass and his fingers slid up under my shirt then down the back of my underwear. “Need inside you, sweetheart. Christ, I’ll die if I don’t get inside you.”

He kept moving until my back hit the wall.

“Then take me,” I said, my voice as raw with need as his.

He moaned and tugged on my underwear, shoving them down my legs. As soon as they were off, his hand slid between my thighs, cupping me. “Pussy’s so wet, Birdie, so wet and hot for me.”

“Yes,” I said as my hands dropped to the front of his jeans and I tugged at his belt, undoing it then popping the button. I nipped his lower lip then sucked it as I slid down the zipper and freed his iron-hard erection. “God, I need you.”

His breathing was hard, harsh. Each breath came out as a gasp, pitched high, like he was fighting to control his emotions. He lifted me off the ground, and my legs came around his waist. Then he was there, his body pressing into me, every bit of his heat, his scent surrounding me.

He slammed up inside me, filling me in one hard thrust.

His mouth came back to mine and I fed him my scream of pleasure. He stayed deep, twisting his hips, grinding into me, causing a nonstop assault deep inside and against my clit all at once.

“Sweetheart,” he said against my lips. “Oh fuck, sweetheart.”

My whole body jolted as my orgasm exploded through me. I sunk my nails into his shoulders and sucked his lips, his tongue, trying to pull him closer when that was impossible. “God, I love you, I love you so much,” I cried out, unable to keep it in any longer.

Hank made a sound like a tormented animal, then he growled, pulled out, slammed back in, and came hard inside me. My name flew from his lips and echoed around my small kitchen.

He glided in and out of me until the last pulse of his cock, until the last wave of pleasure rolled through us both. He kissed my jaw and lifted his head.

His gorgeous blue eyes bore into me. “You…you love me?”

I could try and backtrack. I could pretend it was the heat of the moment. We’d only known each other for such a short time. But I knew how I felt, and I realized I didn’t want to take it back.

“Yes,” I said. “And when you dropped me off and drove away, I didn’t know how I was going to survive it. I still don’t.” I held nothing back.

“I never thought, after my mom left, after seeing my dad suffer through that…” He let out a shuddering breath. “I thought I did something wrong, that somehow it was my fault she didn’t love me enough to stay, that I wasn’t...” He shook his head. “I…I never thought I could be enough, enough for anyone. God, for someone like you.”

My heart was breaking for him. How could he think that? “Hank—”

His eyes flared. “Say it again, Birdie.”

I cupped his face, his beard tickling my palms, and held his desperate stare. “I love you, Hank Smith,” I whispered. “So much.”

A breath shuddered through him. “I love you, too, sweetheart. Christ, more than I thought was possible. I don’t want to spend another night without you.”

I shook my head. “Me either. I couldn’t bear it.”

He dipped his face, bringing it even closer to mine. “But can you…can you give it all up to be with me? Can you be happy in the mountains…with me?”

I smiled, unable to control the joy filling me. “It doesn’t matter where I am. As long as I’m with you, I’ll be happy.”

His eyes searched mine, and there was fear there, fear that he couldn’t hide from me.

“Hank, what is it?”

He gripped me tighter. “Promise me, if you need more, if you’re not happy, promise you’ll talk to me first, that you won’t just leave me. Promise me that.”

“I promise,” I said, making sure he heard the truth in those words. “I’ve never had a home, not a real one. And being with you, Hank, you are home. You’re what I’ve been searching for my whole life. Why would I ever leave that, leave you, now that I’ve finally found you? It’s not going to happen. That will never happen.”

He growled and carried me down the hall toward the bedroom. “Tell me you love me again.”

“I love you.”

He dropped me onto the bed and covered me. “Again,” he rasped.

I slid my hand up the side of his throat, pulling him closer, and said against his lips, “I love you.”

“Birdie,” he said in a way that lifted goosebumps over my skin. “I’ll work every day to make sure you’re happy. Whatever you want, whatever you need, I’ll—”

“Hank,” I said.

He looked down at me.

“I’ve got you. I already have everything I want and everything I need. Love me and I’ll be the happiest girl in the world. That’s all I need.”

He buried his face against my throat again, and then he made love to me until the sun came up.