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on the move. The woman drops to her knees in the dirt driveway and Hattie is all over her.  My pup is barking and spinning and showering the new arrival with kisses.

“Hattie, enough,” I demand as I approach the car.

“It’s okay,” the woman says, petting my dog behind the ears.

The moment the moonlight hits her face, the most beautiful hazel eyes reflect back at me, stealing my ability to breath. “Kyla?”

She stands up, dusting off her hands. “Hi, Mason,” she answers softly.

Stepping forward yet again, bringing me within reaching distance of her, I try to wrap my head around her sudden appearance in Montana. “What are you doing here? Are you all right?” I ask, worry gripping at my chest.

“I’m f-fine,” she insists, seeming to stutter a bit with her words.

I want to step forward and take her in my arms, but I don’t. I can’t. I don’t know why she’s here, but I do know she’s not mine to touch. However, I can look, and look I do. Even under the dark of nightfall, I can tell she’s beautiful. The most stunning vision I’ve had since I was in Boston. She’s wearing an oversized T-shirt and jeans. Yep, a pair of basic blue jeans that hug her legs to perfection. On her feet are a pair of cowboy boots with a rounded toe. I’ve never seen her in anything like she’s wearing, and it’s sexy as fuck.

“I was hoping, maybe, we could talk,” she finally says, her voice laced with nerves.

“Sure,” I answer quickly, afraid she’ll up and leave. “Do you want to come inside?”

“Umm, okay.”

I step back and slowly make my way to the front door, which is closer. Usually, after a long day outside, I’d use the back one so I don’t track dust, dirt, and cowshit through the house. But the front entrance is closer, and all I can think about at this moment is getting her inside.

We step up on the front porch, and I reach for the screened doorknob. “Actually, would it be okay if we sit out here? It’s such a beautiful night, and your view is breathtaking.”

I nod and wait for her to take a seat. There are only two options on this side of the wraparound porch: the left side of the swing or the right. Kyla chooses the right, leaving me the open space beside her. I sit down, careful not to let my outer thigh touch her leg. Out of habit, I start to rock, letting my long legs move the swing at a slow and steady pace. Hattie drops at my feet and sighs, like she does most nights.

After a few minutes, she finally speaks. “I’m sure you’re wondering what I’m doing here.”

“Well, the thought has crossed my mind,” I reply, a very slight smile causing my lips to curl up for the first time in a while.

I catch her own grin out of the corner of my eye, and my heart feels just a touch lighter. She clears her throat and leans her head back against the top of the swing back. She looks up, and I wish we could see the stars. Unfortunately, from this vantage point, you can’t see the stars, even on the brightest nights. Since the back porch is uncovered, that’s where I go to see a starry night.

“I’ve had a lot of time to think over the last few weeks,” she starts, continuing to keep her gaze on the ceiling. “About what happened.”

I don’t know if I should say something or just let her talk, but the need to open my mouth is too strong. “I’ve been thinking about it too. A lot, actually.”

She sits up and turns her head, meeting my gaze for the first time since we sat on the swing. She still doesn’t say anything. Those wheels in her beautiful head must be spinning a thousand miles a second. The worry remains that she’ll just get up and leave, never to be heard from or seen again.

I can’t let that happen.

Needing to bridge the line of communication, I ask, “How did you find me?”

“Matthew.”

That answer is unexpected and like a punch in the gut. All air seems to leave my lungs in one quick whoosh.

“I called him last week and asked him to meet with me. I had a few things I needed to say.”

I nod slowly, trying to anticipate whatever she’s about to say.

“I needed to look him in the eye when I told him I was disappointed in him. He actually sat there and listened to me get it all off my chest.”

“Wh-where did you meet him?” I don’t know why I ask that. Okay, fine I do. The thought of Kyla meeting Matthew at his place or hers makes me a little ragey, which is stupid because she was his before she was mine.

“At the coffee shop near the shelter. It was midmorning and fairly empty. It was actually kind of comical seeing him in one of his black power suits, sitting in a booth with ripped red vinyl seats,” she says with a grin, kicking at a small clump of dirt on the porch.

I can picture it now, and the image is pretty funny. “I’m sure it was good for him to step out of his comfort zone.”

She turns and meets my gaze. “He said he’s been talking to you.”

“He has,” I confirm. “We’re both making an attempt. We talk every week. On Sunday, mostly, when he’s working from home.” After a few seconds, I ask, “I heard the deal between your dad and him went through as planned.”

Kyla nods. “It did. Dad was going to terminate it, but I told him not to. Ultimately, Matthew was the one my dad felt comfortable enough with to sell his company to. My father made his choice before everything went down, and I believe it was the right one for him. I don’t like what Matthew did, but I’m not the judge or the jury.”

I swallow over

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