Page 46 of August’s Cowboy Braxton

“Then I’ll come.”

“What if I don’t know exactly what I want yet?” I bit down on my lip. Things between us had been intense, but they were still new. I wasn’t sure I could trust it yet.

He set down the shirt he’d been folding and cupped my cheeks. Then I’ll wait until you do. I’m not going anywhere, Addison.”

That did it. I rose to my tiptoes and kissed him. Braxton pulled me against him and kissed me back. We made it three steps toward the bed before I started laughing.

He stopped. “What?”

“You folded your clothes before telling me you weren’t leaving.”

“They needed folding.”

“Of course they did.” I kissed him again.

This time neither of us laughed. There was no contract between us anymore. No professional boundary. No question about whether wanting each other interfered with his job. His job was over. This was ours.

Later, after he’d shown me exactly how much he wanted me, I traced the scar across his shoulder while the last of the daylight faded beyond the windows.

“So you’re really staying.”

“Yeah.”

“Even with all the ghosts here?”

He turned his head toward me. “There are other things here now.”

“The structurally questionable porch?”

“Among other things.”

I smiled.

His thumb brushed my cheek. “I spent fifteen years thinking leaving was the only way I could live with what happened.”

“And now?”

“Now I think maybe staying is.”

The words I wanted to say rose fast. I love you. They scared me enough that I swallowed them. Not because they weren’t true, but because they were.

There would be time. For once, I didn’t need to rush something just to make it feel finished.

And apparently Morgan had no intention of letting me spend much time thinking about it, because she called the next morning before I’d finished my first cup of coffee.

She wanted us at Mayor Nelson’s office.

When Braxton and I arrived, the conference table was already crowded. Claire and Torin sat together near one end. Slade leaned against the wall. Tanner stood near the window. Sadie and Dallas had taken seats beside Jace Walker, while Dawson Griffith stood near the filing cabinet. Copies of the evidence covered the table.

Morgan waited until Braxton and I found seats before tapping one sheet with her finger. “We’ve been asking the wrong question about Margaret.”

That got everyone’s attention.

“Once we knew her name, finding Margaret Whitaker wasn’t difficult.”

Claire leaned closer.

Morgan slid the record toward her. “Eleanor married into the Whitaker family. Margaret appears in the household records under the Whitaker name and was publicly treated as her husband’s daughter.”