Page 139 of Small Town, Big Storm

His mouth quirks up.“No.”He looks at me.“And yes.”

“Did you have it at all?Not the kid part, but the teammates hanging out?The laughter and happiness and chaos?”

His lungs inflate in a rush.

But he’s quiet for a long, long moment.

“Yeah,” he murmurs just before I’m going to apologize, going to tell him he doesn’t have to answer.“I had it with my teammates.I was always the young kid, but they took me in, made me feel like part of the family.”A breath.“Then…I fell in love with Joey.”

Heart aching for him, I take his hand.

“Or I thought I did, anyway,” he says quietly.“I think it was more…well, she’s smart and capable and beautiful.She’s lovable.But she was more of a fantasy than a real person.Someone IthoughtI should be with.Not”—he looks at me, that beautiful gray gaze holding mine—“the woman I truly wanted.”

My breathing hitches.“No?”

Knuckles brushing along my cheek, down my throat.“No, baby.That woman is you.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because not a day has gone by in seven years that I didn’t think of you or dream of you or wish I could touch you, hold you, kiss you.”

“That’s…” My heart is thudding against my ribs.“That’s a really good answer.”

He grins.Then sobers, touches my cheek again.“I want this to beourfuture, Pop.”

“You do?”I squeak, pulse pounding, lungs working in overtime.

“Yeah, baby, I do.”His lips turn up at the edges and he leans in, his mouth suddenly very close to mine.“Just wanted to make it clear.”

His words are hot puffs of air, tempting me to close the distance between us, to taste him.

To continue what we began this morning.

But then reality intrudes.

“Ow!”Holly cries.

We both jerk up to our feet, but Storm is faster, steadying me for a heartbeat before rushing over to Holly, who’s holding her leg, clearly having fallen and skinned her knee.

He scoops her up and carries her onto the deck, holding her close as she cries.

I follow and watch him with our daughter.

The moment he gives me isn’t romance and endless pleasure and heat threatening to turn me to ash.

Instead, it’s gentle hands cleaning her scrapes and bandages carefully applied and boo-boos kissed.

And somehow it’s even more beautiful.

Even more perfect.

Because it’s a glimpse of that future he was talking about.

By the time, she’s cleaned up, so are the remnants of dinner.Hugs are exchanged (and barbs between Riley and Rain, longing looks between Shep and Clover—okay from SheptoClover), and we say goodnight.

Then we walk home, Holly atop Storm’s shoulders, Storm’s and my fingers interlaced, like we’ve walked like this countless times before.

“Hi, Gerald!”Holly calls as we pass the park.