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All thick arms and broad chest and furrowed brow. Dirty boots. Muscular thighs. Cowboy porn with a frown.
I’ll take a boozy brunch with my bestie and a dirty book in bed by eight for a thousand, Alex.
A smart man would say, Yes, please leave. That’s an excellent idea. I am not a smart man.
She’s a spark in the dark. Dancing flames against a midnight sky. She shines brighter than almost anyone in this entire place with her glossy hair, bright dress, and twinkling green eyes.
I wink at him. “Thank you for the coffee. I’m ready for you to break my back.”
“What are you doing?” I grumble as I wipe at my watery eyes, no doubt smudged with mascara. “Taking care of you,” he replies without even looking my way. His tone says that I just asked him a stupid question. “That’s fine. I can take care of myself.” “I know you can, but you don’t have to because I’m here to help.”
It’s funny and I should laugh. But I’m caught on the part where she’s married to some man who rolls his eyes at her. A man who isn’t me. And I have somehow failed to wrap my head around the fact that I’m going to be connected to this woman for the rest of my life.
And she’s there, smiling, gripping the metal fence panel with one hand, the other slung over her stomach, looking at me like I hung the moon—and for her I would. I’d do it for everything she’s given me in such a short time . . . A love Luke has never known. A reason for me to smile again. A person to talk to after so many years of silence.

