Finally, although the words still trembled, I said quietly, “I love you.” He rested his head against my back, his breath warm on my skin. “I love you, too.” He pulled out of me, keeping a grip on my arm as we crawled into the back of the Bronco again and collapsed. “I don’t tell you enough,” I said. “I think about it all the damn time. I look at you…” I glanced over at him — at the sweat on his skin, the blissful afterglow on his face. “And I think of how much I love you, but I don’t fucking say it.”
