Dax was torn in two, and he had a feeling Katy was as well. He recognized those exasperated sighs and those looks that warred between extreme joy and overwhelming panic.

He recognized it because he was on the same rollercoaster of emotions.

Even now he was trying not to get his hopes up that she might extend her trip. But then, what difference would it make? One more week wouldn’t change their circumstances.

But, much as he tried to tell himself that, he was as excited as a kid at Christmas at the prospect of more time with this woman.

Heck, he’d be content to skip dinner and just walk Main Street over and over. This was all he’d ever wanted. This was perfection. Holding her hand, some light conversation that was as easy as breathing…he could get used to this.

He wouldn’t, but he could.

When they’d done one lap of both sides of the street, and Katy had looked her fill, he led her back toward the restaurant.

He was aware of the stares when they walked in, and he knew Katy was right. The looks had as much to do with him as with her.

Though he had also been right—this town wasn’t used to seeing a beauty like Katy roaming the streets. He’d just about lost the ability to speak altogether when she’d opened the door to her home earlier.

She was a vision.

Heck, she was always a vision, but in that dress and with her hair all done up, he felt like he was escorting a movie star through town.

So of course she’d caused a stir in this town, where any new person stuck out, let alone one wearing a knockout dress and killer heels. But the fact that this beauty was with him, a born-and-raised rancher with a track record for failed marriage and a runaway wife?

Well, the gossips were likely having a field day.

Not that he cared. He was too busy enjoying his date. He’d loved seeing his hometown through her eyes. She might live in a big city but she’d seemed at home in this small town. She’d seen a charm in it that even he had a hard time recognizing because it was all old hat for him.

The restaurant was crowded because it was a Saturday and a holiday weekend to boot. But Dax knew the owner and had called ahead. A small table in a back corner was waiting for them, far from the prying eyes of the other patrons.

He watched her read the menu, finally having an opportunity to gaze at her to his heart’s content. Yup, she was just as beautiful as he’d thought. No doubt about it. But beauty was skin deep, and this woman was more than that. She had facets and personality and a unique charm that made his word feel electric. When she was around him, it felt like the lights switched on in his little corner of the world.

She looked up and caught him staring, her eyes lighting up with laughter. “Do I have something on my face?”

He shook his head. “You look perfect.”

She shifted in her seat before finally folding her hands in front of her on the table. “I’m nervous,” she said quickly. She shook her head with a laugh. “I shouldn’t have told you that—”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not the kind of thing you admit.” She tilted her head back and forth as if considering her words. “It’s not the kind of thing I admit.”

His smile grew as he turned that over. “So what’s different about tonight?”

“You.”

He watched in fascination as her cheeks pinked and she lifted a hand to briefly cover her eyes. “What is wrong with me?” she murmured.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, why can’t I keep my mouth shut?” She laughed despite her words. “You have the craziest effect on me. It’s like I can’t be anything less than totally honest around you, and I can’t seem to keep my mouth shut either.”

Happiness had his grin widening. “I feel the exact same way.”

“You do?” She looked so hopeful he had to continue.

“You have a crazy effect on me too,” he said. “I don’t know what it is but you’ve changed everything.”

She widened her eyes and he made himself stop talking. He was a little afraid of what he’d say if he continued.

She looked down at the menu again but he knew she wasn’t reading it. When she started to nibble on her lower lip, he spoke again. “Did I make you uncomfortable?”

Her head shot up. “No.” And then, “Well, a little. But it’s not you, it’s—”

“Please don’t say me,” he only half teased. “I don’t know if I could handle an ‘it’s not you it’s me speech’ on our first date.”

She laughed and he was glad to see some of that nervous tension fade away. “I wasn’t going to say that. I was going to say that I’m uncomfortable because I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

Before he could respond, she rolled her eyes. “I mean, I know what I’m doing here. I’m checking out a wedding venue. But I don’t know what I’m doing here.” She met his gaze and he knew exactly what she meant.

What was she doing here, with him? On a date, of all things.

She licked her lips. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

He heard the hint of panic in her voice and he understood it. “Neither do I.”

And that was the truth. He had no idea why he’d thought this was a good idea, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself from being around her even though he knew it couldn’t last.

She placed the menu down, clasping her hands together atop it. “This can’t go anywhere.”

He nodded. “I know.” He caught a flicker of longing in her eyes that resonated within him, like an echo of his own emotions. He leaned forward. “I hate that.”

He caught a flicker of a smile on those sweet lips of hers. “Me too.”

Their eyes locked and held for countless moments as the restaurant around them seemed to disappear in a magic that he’d never experienced before. He caught a flicker of a smile on her lips before she said, “You know this is crazy, right?”

A short laugh of surprise burst out of him. “That’s an understatement.” Despite the fact that they’d just openly acknowledged that this was a dead-end, despite the fact they’d admitted that this was hopeless, he felt a joy spread through him that made the world seem lighter, brighter. Infinitely sweet.

Crazy or not, futureless or not—she felt the same. He knew she did.

In this moment, that meant everything. Reaching across the table he placed one of his hands over her clasped ones. “I think there’s only one thing to do.”

She arched her brows up. “What’s that?”

He leaned in even further. “Enjoy every moment that we have.”

She surprised him with a laugh as she flipped her hands over to grasp his. “I think you’re right.”

He could hear her deep inhale and then her following sigh as she brought her gaze up to his again. “Just as long as we’re on the same page.”

He gave a short nod and she responded with another quick smile but this one held a hint of sadness.

What a bittersweet moment. To know that they both felt this world-shaking, life-altering connection but also knowing that it couldn’t go anywhere. They had lives to lead. They were on paths that had been forged over a lifetime.

The ranch was his life and he knew without her having to spell out for him that the independence she’d found in her career meant everything to her.

She echoed his words with a funny quirk of her lips. “So let’s enjoy it then.”

The waiter chose that moment to take their order. Dax was glad of his arrival, as the thick tension between them…well, it didn’t go away. This palpable connection would never fully fade, he realized, but it changed to something lighter.

When the waiter walked away they could do what they’d said they would—enjoy the moment.

The rest of dinner passed in a blur of laughter and good conversation. Dax couldn’t help but marvel at the ease of the conversation. He wasn’t a talker by nature, but with Katy the words just wouldn’t stop. The flow between them was effortless and natural, as though they were old friends rediscovering one another.

“Do you think maybe we knew each other in another life?” Katy asked at one point.

Dax laughed. “I think you were reading my mind.”

She scrunched up her nose. “It doesn’t make any sense. I mean, we’re as different as different can be.”

He shrugged. He was tired of overthinking it. “Don’t they say that opposites attract?”

Her mouth hitched to the side with a cynical smirk. “Attract, yes. And maybe that explains the…uh…” Her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink. “Maybe that explains the physical draw.”

He stifled a laugh at this cosmopolitan, worldly woman’s discomfort at discussing their physical attraction.

“But,” she continued. “It definitely doesn’t explain this.” She gestured between them, as if there was any doubt. She tilted her head to the side and considered him. “Why is it so easy to talk to you?”

Before he could answer that he had no idea, and that he’d been wondering the exact same thing, she continued. “I mean, I pay a therapist to listen to me and I don’t even open up to her like this.”

This time he couldn’t stifle a laugh. “Maybe you should ask for a refund.”

She grinned. “Maybe you should hang up a sign outside the ranch. Cattle ranch, guest ranch, with a little psychiatry on the side.”

He shook his head, still smiling so much his face hurt. How long had it been since he’d smiled so much if his cheek muscles were so unfamiliar with this sensation? “I don’t think so,” he said. “Believe me, this is just as rare for me as it is for you.”

Her eyes twinkled with mirth. “Oh, I believe it.”

He narrowed his eyes in mock suspicion as he took another bite of his steak. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

She set down her fork and leaned back. “Do you know the first time I saw you on that plane, I had you pegged as the strong, silent type?”

He straightened, making a show of puffing out his chest and steeling his features, making her laugh. “And now?”

Her laugh was light and infectious. “Now I know there is so much more to you than that.”

He grinned, loving the way her eyes warmed as she said that. Her tone turned teasing again as she picked up her fork. “I was right about one thing, though.”

He arched an eyebrow. “And what’s that?”

She narrowed her eyes and leaned forward as if letting him in on a juicy secret. “You’re an old-fashioned cowboy.” She waved her fork as if to take in his whole body. “You, my friend, are a knight in shining armor. Admit it, you harbor dreams of saving a woman and having her fall into your arms with a swoon.”

He laughed and started to protest, but found he couldn’t. “Okay,” he said with a nod. “I’ll admit that I’d like to feel needed.”

She chewed her food slowly, studying him.

He had a feeling that this conversation was telling her more than he wanted. Their conversation had turned to intimate topics before, but right now he had the unnerving sensation that he was exposed. Worse, that she could see something in him that he could not.

Finally, she swallowed, patted her lips with her napkin, and then spoke. “You do know that you don’t have to be needed to be needed by someone, right?”

As convoluted as her words sounded, he knew what she meant. At some point he had come to think that being needed was the only way to be loved. He’d become the person his family needed, the person Shannon needed, the one his friends could rely on. It hadn’t been a conscious decision, but after his parents died he’d found his role within the family and within his life as the one who everyone could count on. He’d found that he was needed, and that had given him a sense of purpose. It had given him safety, comfort, and love.

She was right. And the fact that she saw that part of him so clearly jolted him straight to his core. Her words had hit home but he found himself laughing them off. “You know what you said doesn’t make any sense, right?”

She laughed softly but her gaze never wavered. He had a feeling she knew exactly how affective her words were. He wasn’t angry—if anything he was just shocked that she could see him so well, so much better than the people who’d known him his whole life.

But, at the same time, he saw her too. And he couldn’t let the moment pass without calling her out on the vulnerabilities she was so desperately trying to cover. Leaning forward, he held her gaze and softened his voice. “You do know that you can need someone without being needy, right?”

He watched her lips part, her breath hitch. He knew without a doubt that she’d felt his words as deeply as he’d felt hers. She shifted in her seat, dropping her gaze. “It’s not the same thing.”

“Maybe not,” he admitted. After all, he didn’t know her experience. She’d told him, but he hadn’t lived it. “I know your independence is important to you,” he said slowly. “I guess I’m just trying to say you don’t need to be alone to stand on your own.”

She was staring at her rack of ribs as though it had just come to life and was telling her something endlessly fascinating. “I don’t want to make the same mistakes.”

He sighed, his heart aching at the soft pain in her voice. He knew that feeling, he felt it too. “Trust me, I know.”

She peeked up at him as she toyed with her food. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat, which had grown raspy with old emotions. He didn’t let himself drop her gaze as he opened up a part of himself he’d never thought to explore. “I guess when my parents died, I sort of became the caretaker. I mean, I wasn’t the oldest, but I was the steady one.” He shook his head. “I’m not trying to talk badly of Cole but as my dad always said, he had a restless soul. He was always taking off on his motorcycle and I was always the one holding down the fort, taking care of Alice, making sure the ranch was running smoothly.”

She set her fork down again as she listened to him with her full attention.

“When Shannon had troubles at home, it seemed so natural to step in. To take over. I guess it’s easier for me to take care of people than…”

He couldn’t bring himself to finish. He didn’t know how to finish.

She nodded. “I think I get it. It’s easier for you to play the role of caretaker and protector than to just love and let yourself be loved in return.”

He stared at her. How did she do that? “It’s what I’m used to,” he said, his voice gravelly and raw. “But when I meet the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with, I want it to be real.”

She nodded. “I get it.” Her laugh was rueful. “Believe me, I get it.” She tilted her head to the side. “Do you think we’ll ever find that?”

He smiled in return. It wasn’t an answer, but he didn’t quite trust himself to open his mouth. If he did, the truth might come out.

He was fairly certain he already had.