Page 108

“No matter what the tests say, you aren’t broken,” I reply. “You can’t control what is and isn’t happening in your body. And even if they do find something, it doesn’t mean you’re broken. Either way, you’re perfect and there are ways to get pregnant other than the old-fashioned method. Though, that one is pretty fun.”

Ashley laughs. “With you, it’s definitely fun and we’ll do lots of practicing.”

I give her a quick kiss, and then pull the chicken parmesan out of the oven, cutting us each a piece and putting them on plates. She jumps down to help me, adding the salad and a couple of pieces of bread each.

Ashley has always loved carbs.

She carries the plates over to the table that I set complete with a candle, and I bring the wine. When she looks at me again, her face is so tender that it makes my heart melt.

“How are you such a perfect man? Thank you.”

I’m not sure how Ashley’s ex treated her, but if she’s blown away by a simple dinner and some romantic ambiance, then it wasn’t nearly good enough.

And I would love the chance to show her exactly what she deserves from a partner.

“It’s easy when I have the perfect girl.”

I pull her chair out and then sit across from her, wishing that Scout was lying at our feet begging for some of our food.

“Brady called me today,” Ashley says.

Her brother is four years younger, but a really good kid who always looked up to me.

“How’s he doing?” I ask, trying to focus on her words instead of admiring how beautiful she looks in the candlelight.

“He’s mad that I didn’t call and tell him about what’s been happening here. I’m going to meet him in California soon.”

My heart sinks to my feet, which answers the question of how I’d feel if Ashley walked away from me again – for good.

Like shit.

She must see the panic painted across my face because she reaches across the table and takes my hand.

“Gav, I want you to come with me.”

Confusion courses through me because I don’t understand exactly what she’s asking me to do, or how she could think I’d be able to do it. Give up the ranch and move to the coast? Does this mean she wants to be together, just not in Montana where I’ve built my life and business?

“Babe, I can’t leave the ranch.”

“I don’t mean permanently. I just mean for a week. It would be so nice to get away, and you’d be back in time for Christmas with your family.”

I don’t miss that she said I’ll be back and didn’t mention that she’ll be joining me. Something tells me that if we go to California together, I’ll be flying home alone.

I’d either be leaving her behind for good, or we’d start an impossible long-distance relationship with no end date because neither of us want to move.

Neither are great options.

I haven’t taken a real vacation in years. It’s not that I can’t. We have a great crew of guys who can run the show without me. But I feel guilty when I’m not on the property to help out, and something inevitably comes up every time that I’m away.

“And then?” I ask, no longer willing to avoid discussing important issues with her. “What happens after the trip and after Christmas?”

She squeezes my hand but looks down at the plate.

“And then I’m not sure,” she whispers.

Fuck.

I want her to be sure. I want her to want to be here with me. I want to be enough.