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November

O pening my camera roll for the sixth time today, I click on the folder Carson labeled “Forever and Always” and begin swiping through the photos. My thumb hovers over one of my favorite photos of us. It’s the two of us in Italy, moments after we admitted our love to one another. Carson has his arm wrapped around my waist from behind; his face is slightly hidden, peeking out from behind my head, but his smile is still blinding. Tearing my eyes away from his face, I drag my thumb over my face in the picture. The joy and unwavering happiness I felt are evident in the smile on my face. I don’t think I’ve ever been as happy as I was at that moment. Don’t think I’ll ever be that happy again.

Tears prick my eyes as heat rushes my face. My throat works to hold back the sob threatening to escape. How could I be so reckless? I should’ve known better than to underestimate Aaron—to think he’d leave us alone.

It’s been almost a month since I left Minnesota, and Aaron still hasn’t sent the videos. I didn’t expect him to keep his word, but I thought he’d show the rest of his cards by now.

My mama suggested I ride Buttercup to our west pasture to clear my mind. Mama knows that riding typically helps me feel better, but even the sun beginning to set isn’t cutting it tonight.

Swiping my thumb across the screen, I feel tears roll down my face as I stare at one of our last photos. Carson surprised me with a JCPenny portrait session with me, him, and Midnight. He insisted we needed a family portrait of the three of us to hang in our home. I can’t help the sad smile that takes over my face when I look at how dorky yet sexy Carson looks in a cream cashmere turtleneck that looks like it was painted on his body. His gold chain is out over the turtleneck, and his defined muscles bulge beneath the fabric. He’s got Midnight cradled in his arm like a football, kissing his fury head just above his ear, while I’m snuggled against Carson’s side, looking at the two of them like they are my whole world. Because they are .

“I had that one printed on the biggest canvas they sold for above our bed.”

“Carson?” I gasp in disbelief, looking up to make sure my imagination isn’t playing tricks on me. When my eyes land on him, I shoot to my feet, or at least attempt to. My knees wobble at the realization that he’s here, standing right in front of me.

My fingers curl around his biceps as his hands steady my waist to keep me from falling over.

“Hey, Dream Girl,” he rasps, tears stinging my eyes from the sound. I haven’t heard his voice in weeks. When I look into his aqua eyes they’re filled with tears of his own, making them look like seaglass.

“You’re here? How?” I question.

“The team plays in Dallas tomorrow and there wasn’t a chance in hell I wasn’t going to come get my girl. Come back home with me, Austen. I promise we can work through anything together. Don’t cut me out for a single minute longer.”

Bringing my hand to my mouth to muffle the sob that wants to escape from his words, I shake my head. “I-I c-can’t,” I choke out.

“You can. It’s all over now. Aaron is in jail. He’s going to go to prison for a very long time.”

“What? How? How did you know?”

“He came back to our house a few nights ago on Halloween—he was trying to break in. I caught him on the cameras around the perimeter of the house. At first, I thought the person sneaking around was a photographer, maybe even the one who caused the car accident with me and Cadence.”

“Aaron hired that photographer,” I interrupt.

“I know that now. The phone he contacted you on and threatened you with was confiscated when they arrested him for stalking, breaking and entering, attempted nonconsensual dissemination of private sexual photos and videos, and assault with a deadly weapon,” he explains. “Why didn’t you tell me about the threats he made to you?” he asks.

Ignoring his question, my stomach churns as his words sink in. “Assault? Carson, what happened?”

Carson braces his hands on my shoulders and bends down so he’s looking me in the eyes. “It was nothing. I’m okay now; my dad’s okay, and Aaron is locked away. There is nothing standing in our way. Come home, Dakota. Come back with me. Let me be your rainy day comfort. Let me be your cozy night by the fire. Let me be your everything, just like you are mine. I love you, and if you let me, I’d love to show you just how much for the rest of our lives.”

Wrapping my arms around his waist, I pull him in for a hug but freeze when he winces.

“Carson, are you okay?”

He takes a deep breath as he steps back slightly before pulling up the hem of his denim button-up shirt. My confusion from his actions quickly transitions into concern as I take in the bandages on his lower right side.

“Oh my god, what happened?” I cry, reaching out to touch him but pausing when I realize I might hurt him.

“I really am fine, just a bit sore. Aaron had a knife, but my dad was able to restrain him before he did any major damage.”

“Wait, I thought you said this happened on Halloween.”

“It did.”

“Carson, today is only the fourth of November. What in the hell were you thinking hiking out to this pasture in your condition?”

“I didn’t hike out here; I rode Blizzard.”

My eyes widen as I bend to look behind Carson only to find my brother’s white Arabian grazing beside Buttercup.

“Didn’t you say you were scared to death of horses?” I point out, still in disbelief that he rode one out here. “And I’m pretty sure your doctor would not clear you to ride a fricken horse four days after being stabbed.”

“I wasn’t stabbed . . . he grazed me with the knife. It was a surface wound at best. And hold the damn phone, I never said I was scared to death of horses.” Carson leans forward and, in a hushed voice, says, “Will you keep it down? Horses can smell fear. If Blizzard hears I’m terrified of him, all bets are off.”

Rolling my eyes at his antics, I rise to my tiptoes and tenderly kiss his lips, followed by the scruff on his chin and one on his Adam’s apple, before placing a final one on the hot skin just above his bandages.

“Why didn’t anyone call me?” I ask.

“I didn’t want you to worry. By the time you would’ve heard, I was probably discharged anyway. Now, help me feel better and answer my dang question.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were asking. It sounded more like a demand.”

“You’re right. I’m demanding you come home with me tomorrow night, Dream Girl.”

“Oh, Mr. Wilder,” I tut. “You’re lucky you’re so cute. Otherwise, you’d never get away with being so demanding.”

“I’m just trying to be assertive like all those alphaholes in those books you love.”

“What did I tell you? I love you just the way you are, Golden Boy. No fictional man could ever compare to how you make me feel. Take me home,” I whisper against his lips.

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am,” he drawls before sealing his lips with mine. I’d chuckle at how adorable his attempt at an accent was if I weren’t lost in the way it feels to finally have his mouth open for mine.

Each night we were apart, I yearned for this man. For the way he looks at me like I’m the most precious thing in the world. For the feel of his hands against my waist as he traces lines down my back. For the way his breath fans against the nape of my neck as he worships every inch of my body.

Carson lowers me down to the blanket I was sitting on. The two of us laugh as we stumble to the ground and fumble with each other’s clothes. Once I’m completely undressed, he hovers above me, and I moan with deep pleasure when I finally feel the weight of him against my skin once more. Roaming my eyes over every inch of his skin, my heart pounds in my chest when I spot something on his chest.

“What is this?” I ask, bringing my hand up as I trace the delicate black ink right above his heart that reads “Austen.”

“I missed feeling you against me. If I could, I’d wear you on my skin. But I can’t, because that’d be crazy, so I did the next best thing. I got a tattoo on my heart that makes me think of you every time I see it.”

Tears blur my vision as I try to put into words how much I love it—how much I love him .

Stealing the breath from my lungs, Carson kisses me so deeply, so passionately, that I can’t help the tears that escape the corners of my eyes. He laps them up from my cheeks before placing a scattering of kisses across my collarbones and chest.

“Please don’t ever leave me like that again,” he pleads with his forehead against my chest. “I was so scared I had lost you, Austen.”

Bracketing his face in my hands, I lock eyes with the most beguiling blues I’ve ever seen. “Never. You’ll never lose me,” I promise him.

And he won’t. Because his soul is stitched with mine—we’re intertwined. My heart was akin to his the moment we met in a way that only star-crossed lovers can be.

I know I’ll love and be loved by Carson with every breath I take for the rest of our lives. He has shown me what true love is, what it should always be: unconditional, selfless, intimate, empathetic, respectful, affectionate, secure, and unwavering.