Red Dirt Heart 2 (Red Dirt, #2)

by N.R. Walker

Travis grinned at us, and I’d be lyin’ if I said it didn’t make my heart thump funny. He had this way of making me love him just a little bit more by doing the simplest of things. The littlest of things.

I lay back down and remembered how much I’d adored seeing him in my bed when I thought it was just temporary—fleeting—and here I was taking it all for granted. Like it wasn’t the most wonderful thing in the world. Like it wouldn’t kill me when he was gone. Because it was, really, just a matter of time.

“I don’t want to disappoint you. It’s like a pressure, and it’s not from you. It’s from me. I know that. Because I don’t want to let you down or make you regret your decision to stay.” “Oh, Charlie,” he whispered.

He used the Bible to disguise his hatred, and that’s the worst kind of person.”

“This is what’s it’s about, right here. Open desert, flat to the horizon, blue sky, red dirt and you.”

It was like watching poetry, watching him on my horse. I could have watched him all damn day.

And on the cold, cold ground by the flickering warmth of the fire, we made love. The way he held me, the way he looked at me, it was the closest to heaven I’d ever get without dyin’.