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“I can’t help noticing you’re still here,” Jean said a few nights later.

Her cheek was resting against Charlie’s chest, nestled in like a woodland creature in a bed of moss.

It was better than any weighted blanket.

He had never realized how intoxicating it would be to have someone trust him this much.

Probably because no one else had ever thought of him as a soft place to land.

When he didn’t respond beyond a contented hmmm, she lifted her head to look him in the eye. “That was your cue to tell me how much time is left on the clock.”

Charlie threaded a strand of her hair through his fingers, feeling the silky glide. Everything about Jean was a treat for his senses. Well, maybe not the knuckle she was poking against his rib cage. That tickled.

“I don’t want to leave.” It was the most honest answer he could give.

“But that’s not how life works. Especially for someone like you.”

“What do you mean, someone like me?” He felt a flare of panic. It wasn’t that he wanted to hide things from her; he just couldn’t bear the thought of her looking at him differently. He wanted to stay the Charlie she knew. The real him. Her Charlie.

“Just passing through,” she said, and he remembered to breathe. “Look what happened to my poor best friend.”

“Libby?” Charlie was showing off a little, but only because he liked knowing things about Jean’s life. And unlike some people, Jean appreciated his ability to recall random facts.

“Yeah.” Jean laid her head back down on his chest. “She met someone and kablam, he broke her heart. Total shitshow.”

“I thought you said she was disgustingly happy with her new boyfriend, and they were going at it like rabid giraffes?” Charlie had a stomach-churning vision of Jean finding someone lively and fun the second he was out of the picture.

His hand came to rest on the back of her head, reassuring himself she was here now.

“It’s the same guy. But for a while she thought he was gone forever.”

“You mean… dead?”

“Back to the mainland,” Jean corrected, putting an end to the tragic surfing accident Charlie was imagining.

“But then he came back,” he prompted.

Jean sniffed like that was a minor detail.

“So the story has a happy ending.”

“If you say so.”

It was his turn to administer a teasing poke in the side, though as always when he touched Jean, it wound up more of a caress, wandering over the curve of her waist. “It won’t be like that with us.”

“Don’t worry about me, Dakota. We’re having a good time. Zero expectations and no pressure. Easy peasy, light and breezy.”

He frowned. That was a lot of ways to say the same thing.

It felt like she was trying to push things backward when Charlie wanted to go full steam ahead.

Yes, they were having fun. And being around her made Charlie feel like he was fun, even though he was still terrible at poker.

Luckily, Jean seemed just as happy to play war with her lucky deck, or pretend the floor was lava, or build a pillow fort in the living room.

Anything could be a game, according to Jean. But being playful didn’t negate the fact that this was the best week of his life. Charlie would have described it as being like a kid again, except he’d never felt this carefree in his actual childhood. And he was very glad to be a grown man right now.

“I saw your grad school stuff,” Jean said.

“I’m not going to grad school.”

Charlie wasn’t sure why he’d requested application materials he knew he wouldn’t get to use, much less spent hours drafting a letter to one of the visiting professors he’d met in Australia, to see if she was taking on new PhD students.

Was he delusional or torturing himself? Charlie’s mom called him a daydreamer, but his father had accused him more than once of being out of touch with reality.

Which was probably why his impractical brain was spinning a whole new scenario in which Jean came back to South Dakota with him.

Maybe just for a visit at first, because she wasn’t going to move in with him this soon.

Unless she wanted to, being a bold and decisive person.

It might not sound like the greatest place compared to where she lived now, but Charlie could imagine Jean enjoying the wide-open spaces, red rocks and pine trees, the endless blue sky.

And he knew she was fond of beer, so there was that.

The other part of his past might not even be an issue, since Jean wasn’t the type to let other people’s opinions bother her.

Maybe Charlie could give his parents what they wanted—his entire future—if he had Jean in his life.

“I know you’re smart enough,” Jean said, reminding Charlie that while he was building a cozy dream life for the two of them, she was trying to talk to him in the present. “And it can’t be about the money, because you could pay a semester’s tuition for what a week in this cottage is costing you.”

“I had some saved.” His only expenses for the last six months had been bug spray and candy bars.

There wasn’t anything else to buy at the research station, unless you wanted to splurge on extra toilet paper.

“Plus it was the first vacancy that came up on the website. I guess I didn’t plan to stay this long. ”

Charlie felt her sudden stillness, even the fingers Jean had been stroking across his stomach freezing in place. “Is it because of me?”

“Partly,” he admitted. “Among other things.”

“Like what?”

“I’d rather blow all my money than feel like it’s the most important thing in my life. It has a way of owning you, if you get too attached.”

“I wouldn’t know. But I respect the renegade spirit.”

No one had ever called him a renegade before, probably because he wasn’t one. That didn’t stop Charlie from glowing at the praise. “The other reason is that I’m not looking forward to going home,” he admitted.

“Why?” She propped her chin on her arm, dark eyes studying his face. “Tired of all the farm chores? Baling hay and shucking corn?”

“What?” Were those more sex jokes? He’d had no idea before meeting Jean that there were so many code words for making love.

“Forget it. Finish your thought.”

That was easier said than done. “Have you ever run away from your responsibilities? Even when you know you shouldn’t?”

“What do you think I’m doing right now? People have probably been ringing the bell at the concierge desk nonstop.” She paused for a second before winking at him. In a flash, her expression turned serious again. “Wait, is this your way of telling me you’re married?”

“Of course not! But it is a family thing.”

“You have kids?”

He grabbed her hand before she could poke him again. “My parents are having a big party. For their anniversary. They want me to be there.”

She waited for him to go on, clearly not seeing the problem. “Are you afraid you’re going to have to make a speech?”

“It’s the whole thing. Large groups of people are not my strong suit. And my parents’ friends are not really interested in the same things I am.”

“You can’t just avoid talking about politics?”

Charlie shook his head. “I wish it was that simple.”

“So you don’t want to go, but you feel bad about it,” Jean summarized. Her tone was hard to decipher. “When’s the big day?”

“Next week.” Charlie waited for her to say, Don’t go, I’ll miss you too much . But Jean was silent, turning her head so her other cheek was pillowed against his midsection.

“I’d rather stay here with you,” he told her, in case there was any doubt.

She grumbled something against his stomach. It felt like she was blowing a raspberry, but Charlie could still make out the words, “For now.”

He didn’t think arguing with Jean was the best way to change her mind. He would have to show her how he felt with his actions. “Do you want to stay tonight? I could rub your feet.”

“Nice try, perv.” She pinched his thigh. “You just want to cop a feel.”

“You do have very pretty feet.”

“I could be persuaded to stay. If you make it worth my while, King Cobra.”

“Jean.” He tried to sound stern, but it was hard to focus when her hand was sliding down his hip, and then lower still. “Have you been reading about snakes just so you can tease me?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

She was absolutely right. Charlie wanted a permanent front-row seat for the three-ring circus that was Jean’s mind. But he didn’t want to spook her, so for now he’d do it Jean’s way, telling her with his body what he couldn’t put into words.