these years, workin’ the ranch … keepin’ myself busy … but now that I’ve had a taste of what life could be like with you at my side, it’s agony.” “Chad …” I almost don’t want him to say any more. “I don’t even care what you do with it, but you have my heart, Lance. You can kick it straight across this pond, let the ducks play with it, quackin’ away. You can toss it in your sock drawer. You can stitch the dang thing on your next garment, I don’t care. No matter what you do with it, it belongs to you. And it ain’t gonna—” “Chad, please.”
