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Page 24 of Roaring Fork Rooker (Roaring Fork Ranch #4)

“Solid system you’ve got here,” JW said to Kingston, who’d sat on the other side of him.

“Seems like it. My job revolves around the roughstock more and more. Didn’t know they were even doin’ this,” he responded, motioning to the guests lined up to fill their plates a second time.

As the meal wound down, Holt brought out his guitar and found a spot near the campfire where logs had been arranged for seating. “Time for some music. Anyone else want to join in?”

My son left briefly and returned with his guitar case. I watched him settle beside Holt, tuning his instrument.

“Nice guitar,” JW commented when we walked over to join them. “I have a Martin.”

Kingston nodded.

“Hey, you play?” Holt asked.

“Yes, but sadly, I left my strings at the ranch.”

Holt stood and walked over to his truck, pulling a case out of the back. “I always travel with an extra or two. Of course this isn’t a Martin.” He winked when he handed the Taylor to JW.

What followed was entertainment that made guest ranch experiences memorable. Holt led with country classics that guests could sing along to, while Kingston provided harmonies and instrumental support. His voice, when he did sing, commanded attention.

When JW joined in, the music transformed. His voice blended with theirs, creating rich harmony that elevated the songs. The three men found their rhythm quickly—putting on a great show for everyone there.

Ranch guests requested songs, and the guys obliged with everything from classic country to folk standards. When they performed “Wagon Wheel,” the entire crowd sang along. During a quieter moment, when they played an instrumental version of “Amazing Grace,” I blinked back tears.

As things wound down and guests began drifting back toward their cabins, I realized I didn’t want the night to end.

“I’ve got a four-AM wake-up call tomorrow,” said Kingston. “Night, Mom. Glad you came.” He walked over, hugged me, and kissed my cheek.

“Me too, sweetheart. The music was wonderful.”

“Let’s get together again before I have to leave.”

“I’d like that,” I said before looking around for Flynn and Cord to thank them for their hospitality.

After I had and was heading to my car, I heard footsteps on the gravel behind me. JW approached, hands in his pockets.

“Can I walk with you?”

I hesitated, then nodded. “That would be nice. Thanks.”

The moon was bright overhead, casting everything in silver light. “It’s a beautiful night.”

“Is it?”

I turned to face him.

“I can’t see anything beyond the gorgeous woman who kept me captivated for the last few hours.”

I smiled. “You were always such a charmer.”

JW put his hand on my arm, and we both stopped walking when we reached where I’d parked. “Only with you, Echo. I mean that.”

“Thank you for this. It was wonderful,” I said, pulling out my key fob.

He took a step closer. “Thank you for coming.”

“You, Kingston, and Holt singing and playing together—that was special.”

“Your son is a fine young man.”

“Thank you…uh…I should be going.”

“Echo, I—” he began, then stopped.

“What is it?”

Instead of answering, he took another tentative step closer. When I didn’t retreat, he reached up, giving me every opportunity to pull away, and cupped my cheek.

“Is this all right?” he whispered.

I should have said no. Should have shaken my head, maintained the boundaries I’d spent weeks establishing. Instead, I leaned into his touch, my eyes closing at the warmth of his hand against my skin.

When I opened them, he lowered his head until his lips barely brushed mine.

The kiss was soft at first, tentative, a question asked without words. But when I didn’t pull away, when my lips parted under his, it deepened. My hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer as weeks of denial and resistance crumbled.

This was what I’d been running from. Not just the memory of what we’d shared, but the knowledge that nothing had changed. I still responded to his touch, still felt complete when he held me.

He broke the kiss first, resting his forehead against mine as we both struggled to catch our breath.

“God, Echo, I’m—” he started.

But I couldn’t bear to hear whatever he was going to say. Couldn’t risk him apologizing for the kiss, or trying to explain what it meant, or worse—suggesting it had been a mistake.

I pressed two fingers to his lips, stopping him from speaking. “Good night, JW.”

Then I slipped into my car and started the engine, leaving him standing in the moonlight as I drove away.

The miles home passed in a haze. My lips still tingled from his kiss. My body still hummed with the awareness of his touch. Every rational thought I’d constructed about why I couldn’t risk letting him become a part of my life seemed inconsequential.

As I pulled into my driveway, one thought echoed in my mind— what was I doing?

But even as I asked the question, I knew the answer.

I was falling for JW all over again, despite every reason why I should resist. Despite the secrets I carried, despite the complications his presence created, despite the very real possibility that letting him back into my heart would destroy the life I’d built.

I couldn’t resist him. Never had been able to.

And even with all the warning bells ringing in my head, I wasn’t sure I wanted to anymore.

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