chapter 37

On the long expanse of new spring grass, Julia stood beneath a cottonwood tree like

some kind of mirage, wearing a white, floaty dress that made her look like an angel.

Beside her was a white-linen-covered table with two chairs. There were place

settings, serving dishes, and candles waiting to be lit. She'd strung lights in the branches

of the trees.

And right in front of him, its reins looped around the porch railing, was a gorgeous

chestnut mare, its coat gleaming in the early evening sunlight.

"What … what is all this?" Colin asked, feeling dazed as he approached her.

She started talking fast—he could see that she was nervous. "My friend Mike—I

think I told you about him—likes to ride, and he has a horse trailer. He helped me find

her for you, and he brought her out here for me." She gestured toward the mare. "And

there's dinner, too. I didn't cook it myself, I had a caterer … I talked to Breanna about it

and asked what she thought, and she called the Byrnes and cleared it."

"But …" He was speechless. He just stood there, unable to form a coherent thought.

She must have taken his hesitation as a sign that he was displeased, because a worry

line formed between her eyebrows.

"I'm sorry, Colin. For letting you go. For choosing Drew over you. For … for being

too scared, and thinking you couldn't want me." Tears began to shine in her eyes. "But if

I'm too late, if it's too late for us …"

"You brought me a horse," he said. He walked over to the mare and stroked her

neck. The mare let out a huff of air in greeting. "I can't believe you brought me a horse."

"You never had one of your own," she said. "You said you always wanted—"

She didn't finish her sentence, because while she was speaking, he closed the

distance between them, took her into his arms, and silenced her with a kiss. His heart

pounded and his body felt liquid and weak as he held her, as he devoured her with a kiss

that held all of his heartbreak and all of his hopes.

When their lips parted after what felt like a lifetime, he tangled his fingers into her

hair and leaned his forehead against hers. He could feel her warm breath on his skin, and

she smelled sweet, like jasmine.

"You brought dinner," he murmured.

"Umm … yes." Her eyes were closed, her voice dreamy.

"You think we could warm it up a little later?"

Her eyes opened, just a little, and she gave him a slow smile. "I'm sure that'll work."

So he scooped her into his arms and carried her up onto the back porch, into the

house, and into his bedroom.

Julia had been so scared about what he would say, what he would do. Yes, he'd

come to her house and kissed her. But then he'd put her off when she'd asked to see him.

She'd been so frightened that he'd changed his mind about her, that he'd decided she

wasn't worth the trouble she'd put him through.

When he'd kissed her under the cottonwood tree, she'd felt her body hum with

happiness. And now, here in his bedroom, she couldn't wait to show him everything

she'd been feeling for him, feelings that she should have been true to from the beginning.

"Colin." She breathed his name as he kissed her jawline, her neck, her shoulder

where it met the gauzy fabric of her dress.

She wanted to touch him everywhere, all at once. She ran her hands over his chest,

his face, his arms, but there was too much between them—far too many clothes getting in

the way.

She pulled his shirt from where it was tucked into his pants and unbuttoned it as he

ran his lips and his tongue over her hot skin.

This time, she didn't want to take—she wanted to give. She wanted to show him all

of the things she was feeling, and make up for the hurt she'd made him feel. So she

reached down and unbuckled his belt, slowly lowered his zipper, and then freed him from

the confines of his clothing.

Julia looked into his half-closed eyes, and then lowered herself to kneel in front of

him. When she took him into her mouth, he let his head fall back, and he let out a ragged

gasp, his hands in her hair.

There was a feeling of power in what she was doing to him, in how she was making

him feel. Anyone could take pleasure, but giving it, at this moment, was so much richer.

So much more.

She caressed him and stroked him with her mouth until she could feel his body tense,

and he took her by the shoulders, easing her back up to him. "Not yet," he said. He put a

hand on her face. "Let's take our time."

He pulled her dress over her head, and his eyes widened in pleasure when he saw the

silky, lacy, tiny things she was wearing beneath it.

Julia pulled off his shirt and let it fall to the floor. She ran her hands over his strong,

warm body, feeling the tension of her own need growing. He undressed her completely,

and she him. Then she stepped into his arms and felt her entire body sigh at the feel of his

skin against hers.

"Julia, are you sure?" His voice was a low rumble.

She understood what he was asking. He wasn't asking about this moment, this act

between them. He was asking about more. About the two of them, together, and the

limitless future they might have. He didn't want to get hurt again. He was asking if he

could trust her with his heart.

"I'm sure." She took him by the hand and led him to the bed.

Later, when they both were feeling sated and exhausted, they got the mare settled in

the stables, then reheated the dinner Julia had arranged and ate it by candlelight in the

twilight of early evening. The air was cool, but she'd planned for that—a portable heater

warmed them as dark descended.

Colin wanted to be completely happy, to set aside his fears and vulnerabilities, but

there were things he had to know. Questions he needed her to answer.

"What about Drew?" He toyed with his wineglass, turning the stem in his fingers. He

felt the flitter of nerves in his chest. "What if he pressures you again?"

"Drew has a lot of feelings, but I can't fix that for him." She reached out her hand

for his. He set down his glass and held her small hand on top of the table. "I'm sorry

about what my mother and Redmond did, and I'm sorry it hurt him. But none of that was

my fault. Or yours. And it's not my fault that I fell in love with you."

Then she smiled, and he was lost.

"You're in love with me?" He caressed the back of her hand with his thumb.

"Of course I am. Would I have done all of this"—she gestured around them—"if I

weren't?"

"Probably not," he conceded. He released her hand and picked up his wineglass,

savoring the crisp Chardonnay she'd brought. A California wine, he noted.

"I can't promise nothing will ever go wrong between us," she said. "But I can tell

you that I'm in. Completely, one hundred percent. Whatever happens, I'm here. I'm in."

Looking at her in the candlelight, with her sun-kissed skin and her white dress, her

glorious hair resting on her shoulders, he thought that he'd never seen a more beautiful

woman. He looked at her, and his heart said, yes.

No matter the risks, no matter where things might go, no matter whether she changed

her mind about him. The only answer he could give her, the only word in his heart, was

yes.

"You know, Bozeman's quite a distance from here," he mused.

"It is."

"Stay with me," he said. "No more running off in the middle of the night. Just …

stay with me." He was asking about tonight, but he meant forever. There would be time

to talk about that, time to plan.

"Yes," she said.

He stood up and took her hand, and they blew out the candles. They went back into

his house and into his bedroom, and for the first time since he could remember, Colin

Delaney felt fully at ease.

He was exactly where he was supposed to be.

Finally, after all this time, he'd found what he was looking for. It had nothing to do

with geography; it was about this woman.

Colin Delaney was home.

THE END