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“You love the bookstore.”

“I do, but it seems there are a lot of things I love that I can’t have.” As soon as it came out of my mouth, I wanted to take it back.

Had I fallen for Rye too? Was that why I felt so fucking sad and defeated? It felt like the realization had stopped my heart. I lifted my hand to press against it, trying to hold it together so it didn’t break into pieces.

Micah touched my arm as I turned, intending to head back to the kitchen to start the dishes. “What’s wrong? Is this about that cowboy?”

“It’s about a lot of things.” None of which I was willing to go into with my children.

“Ma, don’t you get it? This is hard for me. I miss Dad. Benji does too. No one can ever live up to him.”

Arghh!I wanted to tear out my hair. Live up to their dad? Please. Rye had already surpassed Tommy in every real way. But the boys would never see that. They’d only see that Ryewasn’tTommy.

Looking into my son’s eyes, I did see it, the hurt and longing for a man he grieved and would always yearn to be able to look up to. Yet, here I’d been for ten years, busting my ass, trying to build a life they could be proud of me for, but all the twins had done was take me for granted.

It was my fault. I raised them. I shouldn’t have let them have ice cream when they hadn’t finished their chores.

I snorted at myself.Yeah, right, like that would’ve made a difference.

“Micah, I’m sorry you miss your dad. I know it hurts.” I shook my head. I couldn’t tell him what I felt in my heart, that there were things he didn’t know about his dad that I didn’t want him to look up to. I couldn’t ruin his dad’s memory just so I could have unlimited cowboy booty. “Listen, I need some time. I can’t talk about this with you right now, okay?”

He nodded and dropped his arm.

“Besides, you’re right. I really should go and open up the shop. I’m gonna grab a quick shower and head over there. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Okay. Sounds good,” he said, happy with the way the conversation was ending—in his favor, just like his dad had always won our arguments, basically dismissing anything I’d said. “Oh hey, would you make chicken pot pie for dinner like you used to, with the green beans, potatoes, and corn inside?”

Oh yeah, ’cause you know, whipping up a homemade crust and basically baking a pie is what I truly look forward to after a busy day of being a failing bookseller.

But old habits really were hard to break. I said, “Sure.”

And maybe it wasn’t the boys’ fault so much as it was my own. I saw the habit that needed to be broken, but here I was adhering to it instead of smashing it. It was the same thing I’d done with my business.

But keeping things status quo certainly hadn’t earned me anything besides a sink full of dirty dishes and a ridiculously expensive tax bill I couldn’t have paid on my own.

“Awesome!” Micah pumped his fist in the air like a little kid, and then he turned and called out for Benji. “Ma’s makin’ my favorite for dinner!”

Benji’s voice echoed back to us from the kitchen, where he was no doubt licking every last crumb from his breakfast plate. “Ew, it’s not that chicken-pie thing I hate, is it? Ma! I want short ribs.”

Fuck my life.

When I drovepast Your Local Bookie to turn into the alley to park because I’d been too depressed to walk the five blocks, I saw Rye sitting in his truck out front, waiting for me, and my heart dropped into my stomach.

My legs felt like they’d been filled with lead as I got out of my car. I unlocked the loading-dock door and realized I’d forgotten to bring my lunch—shit—and when I walked through the dark store to unlock the front, I found Rye on the stoop. He’d seen me pull in.

“Hey, Spitfire. Good mornin’.”

I didn’t feel like a spitfire. Not even close.

Rye was every dream I’d ever had, with his soft brown curls that seemed to do their own thing no matter how many times he tried to tame them. He’d groomed his beard. It was a little shorter than he usually kept it, but still, he was a sexy vision standing before me in his worn-in jeans and his hat in hand.

“Mornin’,” I said while doubt clawed at me.

I knew what I needed to do, but actually doing it was a different story.

I couldn’t break his heart.

I didn’t want to. I wanted to wrap myself around him and forget the rest of the world. I’d become addicted to his kisses and the way he always made me feel like his princess and how everything seemed brighter when he was around.