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“No, it—”

“Yes, it would.” He was so calm. So sure. Any mixed emotions had disappeared, and there was only this aura of…leadership, almost. Like a man who’d given an order to blow up a village and simply knew it was the right thing to do. “You asked me what I want. I don’t want this.”

She reached out for something solid and found the door behind her. Somehow, she was still standing even though he’d ripped the floor out from under her. She tried to breathe past the shock of pain, the horrible realization that he’d found a way to undermine everything she’d thought, been sure of.

She could fight his refusals. She could even fight his insistence she didn’t love him or he didn’t love her.Sheknew the truth. He’d never convince her otherwise.

But him admitting he loved her and saying he didn’t want it? She had no words for that. No way to fight the crushing blow it was. She couldn’t make him want anything. He had to make that choice on his own, with absolutely no help from her.

“Goodbye, Monica,” he muttered.

Then, he finally got what he’d wanted this whole time. She moved out of the way of the door, and he walked out of it.

Chapter 23

Gabe hadn’t allowed himself to think of Jenna in years. That night had haunted him for so long. As big of a betrayal as any, but then war had suddenly made that old life seem trivial, and his mother and Evan had made it very clear no one in the family wanted anything to do with him.

Who cared if the sister he’d once protected had been used against him and his family wanted to cut him off forever? There were worse horrors in the world.

He shouldn’t have told Monica. Shouldn’t have brought it all back up. But he’d thought… In the heat of the moment, he’d thought he’d say it in a way that would disgust her, but he should have known better. Should have known she’d see right through him.

Still, no regrets, because it had brought him to the realization of what he had to do. He couldn’t manipulate or blank-face stubborn Monica into understanding. He had to use the truth.

He pulled the truck to a stop in front of the bunkhouse, almost marveling that he’d gotten here. He didn’t remember the drive. He’d been in a numb fog that felt suspiciously like shock.

What a joke. Shock was for grenade blasts and dying men.

Not some weird fantasy world that had come to life for a brief, brief period of time and had come to its rightful, necessary end.

He stared at the bunkhouse through his windshield. The night was dark, but Becca’s Christmas lights glowed against the huge drifts of snow. He could make out paths to and from the house and the stables and barn, clearly plowed by one of the ranch vehicles. But no one had attempted to dig out the bunkhouse. It stood nearly covered halfway up, some places higher where the wind had blown the snow against the building.

He would have to dig himself in. That was fine. Good even. No use fooling about with a snowplow attachment to the UTV. He’d dig himself in the old-fashioned way.

He turned off the truck and followed the first path from the shoveled-out drive to the barn. He hunted for a shovel and then got to work.

He counted each shovel strike against the snow, each toss of the snow off the shovel.One, two, three.One hundred and one, two, three. Count, count, count, so his mind couldn’t dwell, think, bargain, argue.

One hundred and fifty.

“Gabe.”

Gabe jumped a foot, immediately disgusted with himself for the complete lack of awareness. But it had taken all of his focus and attention to keep his mind on the numbers, not the thoughts or feelings.

“What?” he muttered, not even bothering to look back at Alex. He focused on the fact he was almost to the door.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Okay that wasn’t the right question.Whyare you digging into the bunkhouse when you know you can stay in the house? Better than trying to warm the bunkhouse up after it’s been shut up. Come on.”

“No.” Gabe didn’t have to look at Alex to know his expression would be all confusion. Both at the fact his order was being refused and at the whole situation.

“Don’t be stupid. If you’re all worked up about PDA, Becca and I will stand on opposite sides of the room.”

Some dim corner of Gabe’s brain acknowledged that was supposed to be a joke, but he couldn’t find it in him to smile or joke back.

“Go away.”