Page 7 of From Ice to Home (The Heart of a Ranger #1)

“I’m just being honest,” I press, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. “We spent so much time together back home, we had a plan, things were good, and then—“

“They weren’t,” she says matter-of-factly. The finality in her voice stings more than I expected.

I search her eyes, desperate to know what’s going through her mind.

But she avoids my gaze, as if more at ease with the silence between us than the truth of the past. She gently tugs my hand, guiding us forward as we continue to walk down the Strip.

Then, without hesitation, she slips her other hand over ours—fingers laced, warm, steady—and rests her head against my arm.

Something settles inside me. Saying the words out loud, admitting how much I missed her, feels like releasing a breath I’ve been holding for years. But at the same time, it feels like too little—too small compared to the battle I’ve fought without her.

“I missed you too,” she says softly. Her words hit my heart, the vulnerability and sincerity in them marking me in a permanent way.

I look down at her, not just seeing the woman beside me now, but the girl who stole my heart the first time she walked into the tutor center.

We were never in the same classes, she was in the honors and AP courses—a step ahead of everyone, including me.

In fact my ego took a bit of a hit when I found out that she was actually a year younger than me, and still she was the one who had to tutor me so I could stay in the hockey program.

Her shy, demure demeanour had drawn me in instantly. But as I got to know her, I realized it was only the surface. Beneath the quiet exterior was a fiery personality, a strength I never expected, and a heart of gold that I came to rely on more than I ever wanted to admit.

God, how could you let me walk away?

How could You bring her back now, only to rip her away again?

The air is cool and Hannah shivers next to me.

Without a second thought, I put my arm around her and pull her into my side where she fits perfectly.

We’ve passed casinos and hotels, restaurants and more than one vendor that could’ve sold us dessert.

Yet, we haven’t stopped walking. And right now, I’m scared that if we do, we’ll have to start turning back.

Ahead of us, neon flashing lights cast a glow across the sidewalk.

A sign blinks in bold red letters — The Church of Elvis.

The wedding march spills out of the doors along with a couple dressed in pink and blue.

The groom picks up his new wife, who tosses her bouquet into the air without a care in the world.

Hannah laughs looking at the couple, who’s obviously a bit intoxicated, but happy none-the-less. There’s a strange expression playing across her beautiful features and I can’t help but stare at her.

“Did you think we’d ever get married?” she asks, her voice bold, but there’s something underneath. Like she’s testing the waters, unsure of what she’s hoping for.

“I did,” I answer honestly, without hesitation. “Maybe not right away, but I’m sure we would’ve gotten around to it eventually.”

She exhales softly, tilting her head. “It’s what happens when you stay in Georgetown. Right?” she says, her voice a whisper. “That’s just the way things go in small towns. People fall in love, get married, stay. It’s expected.”

I stop walking for the first time, my heart thudding against my ribs. With a gentle pull, I guide her closer, slipping my arms around her waist. She comes willingly, and it’s like no time has passed at all. She fits there…right there.

“And now?” I ask, my voice low.

She looks up at me, her chin resting on my chest, her green eyes steady on mine. The way we’ve been able to fall back into step with each other, the way my hands know where to rest and hers don’t flinch…it’s strange but perfect. Familiar. Like we’ve never really been apart.

“And now, what?” she murmurs, her voice trembling at the edges. Uncertain, but not afraid.

I brush my thumb over the bare skin of her back, and she shivers beneath my touch. Something inside me stirs, deep and triumphant.

“Are you telling me you’re not a small town girl anymore?”

A slow, knowing smile tugs at her lips. “I don’t think I’ll ever not be a small town girl,” she says, with a hint of pride in her voice. “I mean, look at me.”

I have been looking at her. This whole entire time.

The soft breeze lifts a strand of her golden hair across her face.

I tuck it behind her ear, letting my fingers linger.

Her green eyes catch the glow of the neon nearby, bright and alive.

My gaze lingers too, tracing the freckles scattered across her nose, the curve of her jaw, the perfect bow of her lips.

“I am looking at you,” I say, and my voice is rougher than I mean it to be.

She blushes, suddenly looking down and depriving me of her eyes.

Gently, I tip her chin up, my fingers steady beneath it, guiding her face back to mine. I shouldn’t. We both know it. But the thought of letting her go again without this, without something, is ripping at my insides.

So I kiss her.

It’s barely a whisper of a touch, more breath than pressure, reverent and slow. A kiss pulled from memory, from ache, from every late-night prayer I didn’t know I was still praying.

“Lucas—“ she breathes, pulling away, her lips just inches from mine.

“I know, Sanders, it’s just—“

Before I can finish, she reaches up and wraps her arms around my neck. And then she kisses me.

This kiss is different. It’s bolder, fuller, like she’s just let go of something.

And it takes me straight back to the last week we spent together.

The light kisses we shared in my truck before I dropped her off at home.

The afternoon we snuck off to Camp Grace to carve our names into the old tree, where we shared our first real kiss.

Hannah’s the first girl I ever kissed, and now I know without a shadow of doubt I want her to be the last.

That night I thought we’d be together forever. And a week later, it was all gone. She was leaving for an internship in Durham and wanted me to follow my own dreams.

Kissing her now, it feels like we were never apart. She fits perfectly against my chest, her mouth molding against mine so easily, like we were made for each other. Her scent envelopes me and I want nothing more than to stay like this forever.

She pulls away, slightly out of breath, her eyes fixed on my mouth. “You’re leading me into dangerous waters, Lucas Walker.”

If she only knew that it’s the other way around. “Don’t worry, Sanders, I’ve got you. Nothing will happen to you.”

She looks up at me, her green eyes searching mine for reassurance. “Promise?”

“I promise.”