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“I want you to give me all my firsts. So that you can send me on my way. And I won’t be naive. Because I’ll have done it before.”

Yeah. That was it. The best thing he could do.

“Sure thing, Bix.”

Chapter Eighteen

Bix woke up warm and very, very comfortable. She was in his arms. Naked and pressed against his body. She wiggled her hips, and felt the hard press of his arousal against her bottom. Her face got warm.

Yeah. That had happened. And she was still with him.

She turned over to face him, staring at him intently through the veil of darkness. It must be early in the morning. She didn’t have a great sense for the exact time. It didn’t really matter. He was here. She was here. She was content in a way she couldn’t remember ever being before. It was more than contentment. It was happiness.

He made a gruff, masculine sound and her body responded. Thrilled. She must’ve laughed out loud, though she hadn’t meant to. Because he stirred. He opened one eye, and her heart jumped. “Good morning, Sheriff,” she said.

“Bix,” he said, his voice sleepy and gruff.

She liked that. Liked that she had woken him up. That her name was the first thing he said. That her face was the first thing he saw.

He had given her a brick.

He had given her more orgasms than she could readily count.

Don’t forget. This kind of thing isn’t forever. It just isn’t. He’ll give you your firsts, and then you’ll be on your way.

Yes. That was all it was. All it would be.

She knew that. She knew what it was like to live life with one eye always on the potential threat. She knew that you had to live waiting for the other shoe to drop. So why couldn’t she just enjoy herself now? She was going to. And that was it. This would be a place that had a natural ending point. There would be a time when it felt right to say goodbye. And when that moment came, she would be ready. She didn’t need to be guarded. She didn’t need to be in a continual state of reminding herself to be wary all the time. She was in his bed now. She was with him now.

“You want some breakfast?”

“Do you know how to cook?”

She scoffed. “I took care of myself for all that time, and you’re not sure if I know how to cook? Please, Sheriff. That’s just ridiculous. Now I do need a fire and a small knife.”

“What?”

“I’m kidding. I know how to scramble eggs. My van has a stovetop.”

Her van. Her van that she had just kind of forgotten. Her van that she didn’t need now.

What a strange thing. That for a while it had been everything. The only thing she had. And now it was something she could forget.

It was a quick reminder that while she was going to let herself enjoy this... affair, or whatever it was, she was also going to keep wary.

She just needed to keep one eye out. Just the one.

And the other she would keep firmly fixed on him.

She stole his T-shirt and went into the kitchen, getting out eggs and bacon. She could feel him behind her, watching her. She had never had anybody watch her like that before. Like they had nothing better to do than look at her. It made her feel special. Beautiful. She had never felt either of those things before. Not really. She had never felt... special. He made her feel like she might be. And she would cook him eggs and bacon for that any day of the week. They were companionable this morning like they had been many mornings, but it was different. There was an intimacy to this that she had never experienced before. One that she enjoyed, that she had never known she wanted before.

He wasn’t working off the ranch today, and she took great joy in riding in the truck with him to the construction site.

She gave him an impish look and moved toward him, and then stopped.

“Very good,” she said. “You didn’t even flinch.”

“I don’t flinch,” he said.