“Open it.”
He did, and when he pried off the box lid, he stared. “No way.”
I glanced at my brother Jace, who’d helped me pick it out. “Yes way, Boston.”
“Ah, man,” he said, and withdrew the straw Stetson. “Close your eyes, Gracie. You know,” he winked. “For effect.”
I rolled my eyes and closed them.
“Okay.”
I opened them again to find the hat pulled arrogantly down over Brax’s brow, a perfect fit, and a smoldering expression on his face. He crossed his arms over his chest.
“This is what I call the fury,” he said. His brows pulled down, lips puckered.
“More like the pimp,” Kyle said.
We all burst out laughing.
Brax stayed with us throughout the rest of the holidays and helped catch the ranch up on repairs, chores, and even helped us break a few new horses. He helped Jace and Kyle fix the roof, a few rotted boards on the barn, and several places of fence that needed mending. On New Year’s Eve we shot off Jilly’s Winchester, and Brax kissed me for the entire minute leading to the New Year. Seth, Kyle and Jace shot off fireworks, and although I missed my grandfather desperately, I was washed in a new kind of joy.
Desperate, true, forever love.
I couldn’t have been any happier, save Jilly being around for it. I think he’d approve, too. Of me. And of Brax. Of us. Yet neither of us had admitted it.
The days zipped by, and in a blink it was time to head back to Winston. It felt weird not being able to say goodbye to Jilly. I guess Brax could tell something was up.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, walking out to my truck.
I shook my head and explained. “It’s just so … strange. Not seeing Jilly. Not saying goodbye.”
Brax brushed his knuckles over my cheek. “We’ll say goodbye on the way out, Sunshine.”
After I hugged my mom and brothers, Brax tightened the tie-downs securing his motorcycle in the back of my truck and we pulled out of the drive. Brax drove us to the cemetery on the outskirts of town. We’d all visited on Christmas Day, but still—it felt wrong not to visit again, and he’d read my mind. Brax gave me a few moments alone at Jilly’s grave. The dirt was still fresh-looking and new. I ran my fingertips over the headstone, traced the Ranger’s star etched into the marble with my thumb.
“Thanks, Jilly,” I whispered. “And you know why, you old badger. I love you.”
On the way back to school, Brax drove, and we both wore our hats and sang with Kansas and the Eagles to the top of our lungs. But when he bypassed Winston’s front gates, I looked at him.
“Sorry, Sunshine,” he said in that familiar raspy voice. “But you’re comin’ home with me tonight.”
My stomach dropped. “Am I going to need my safe word?”
Brax turned up a single lane drive, up to a house, and around the back to a small apartment. He killed the engine and gave me the fury.
“Definitely so,” he said, his voice low.
I laughed, but he silenced me with his mouth, and the kiss lingered, deepened, and finally, he pulled away. “I wouldn’t keep you against your will,” he said. “Do you want to stay?” He kissed me again. “Christ, I want you to stay.”
I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his. “I do, too,” I whispered against him.
Wordlessly, he opened the door and pulled me out with him. He shouldered our bags and my scope, grabbed me by the hand and pulled me up a flight of outdoor steps that led to an above garage apartment. He looked at me as he unlocked the door. “Henry’s renting to me for a fair shake. Plus he gave me a job at the cages.” We pushed into the apartment, and Brax kicked the door shut with his foot. He locked it, set our stuff down, and pulled me to him. “Small, but private.” He grinned, and stared at my lips. I’d noticed a dim lamp in the far corner that cast a hazy light over the single room apartment. “And all mine.”
I peeked over his shoulder. We stood in a small but complete kitchen. Tiled floors. A bed in the far corner, with a chest of drawers, and in the center, a sofa, coffee table, TV against the brick wall, and a Bucks stove for heating. One door led to, I assumed, the bathroom. I grinned at Brax. “Perfect, Southie.”
“I think so,” he said. “Gimme a second. I’ll get this place heated in two.” He wiggled his brows. “This thing gets wicked hot.”
Brax crossed the room to the Bucks, knelt down and I followed. I stood there, noticing how sexy the Stetson looked on him, with his dark curls hanging out the back. At how his jacket pulled taut across his broad shoulders; how his jeans pulled snug across his thighs, and how fast his hands, fingers worked the fat lighter, the matches. He fascinated me, in every possible way. It wasn’t long before he had logs burning, and he kept the trap door open to the stove and stood. When he saw me, saw how close I’d come to stand behind him, his eyes smoldered, fixed on mine, and he reached for me. “You are wearing way too much, Sunshine.” His fingers grasped the zipper to my down jacket and pulled. As it opened, he slid his hands inside and swept his mouth over mine, and I did the same to him. Inside his leather coat, his body warmed my icy fingers.