Page 104 of Now and Then

“I loved those things. Wore the soles right out of ’em.”

“I remember the day you lost them in the creek.”

She looks up at me with furrowed brows. “You weren’t even there. How could you remember that?”

“I came over after you and Luke got back from fishing, and you were sitting on the back porch sobbing your eight-year-old heart out. Luke told me later what had happened. I swear, I looked for those things for days but never could find them.”

“You looked for my boots? Why?”

I kiss the tip of her nose. “Because I knew how much you loved them, and I hated seeing you sad.”

For a moment I just look at her, rain sliding down her cheeks and catching in her lashes. I want her. God, do I want her, but we’ve waited this long to get here. I’m not about to rush the moment now that I finally have her.

Sutton slides down until she’s balanced on tiptoes. Her smile softens as she closes her eyes, leans toward me, and kisses me so suddenly she steals my breath away.

She pulls back enough to look at me. “I didn’t think it was possible to love you more than I already do.”

21

Sutton

My confession hangs in the air between us. He doesn’t say anything as he palms my cheek, thumb caressing the delicate skin around my eyes. The seconds tick by, a heavy silence surrounding us. My stomach hums with anticipation. “Hunt—”

“Say it again.” He pulls my face closer to his.

My heart thumps wildly against my ribs. The old me would have tried to tug the words back and bury them deep inside. But not this time. I smile.

“I love you, Hunter James Michaels.”

The final threads that have kept my heart under control shred, sending it soaring.

He closes his eyes. “Again.”

“Hunter,” I say, standing on tiptoes to place a kiss along his jaw, the corner of his mouth, and finally, tilting his face down to mine, onto the middle of his forehead. “I love you.”

He wraps me under his arm and walks me back to the house. Disappointment and confusion niggle at the back of my heart. Why didn’t he say I love you back? But I remain silent, letting him lead us in the moment.

Hunter opens the front door and steps over the threshold. I look at the mud covering the foyer and grimace.

“It’s okay,” he says. “I’ll clean it later.”

I smile. “How do you always know what I’m thinking?”

“Because,” he says, swinging the door closed, “you and I? We were made for each other.”

Muddy socks land with a plop by the door. Lacing our hands together, Hunter guides us to the staircase, the rain still pattering on the roof.

“Hold on!” I shout. “Let me just—” I side-step and grab a rag from a pile near the door. “I’m pretty sure it’s an actual crime to track dirt and water all over these new floors.”

“You’re killing me, woman,” he mutters, voice rough like he’s trying very hard to behave himself.

I wipe my feet off and toss the rag to Hunter, who catches it with a grin. When we’re done, he links our fingers together again and leads me to our room.

Hunter opens the door and drops my hand. His eyes are wide as he spins slowly, taking in the oversized chairs, the view out the window of low clouds sitting heavy on the mountains in the distance, the steady rain blurring the glass, and my carefully curated touches. His face is stoic, utterly silent, yet I feel him absorbing every detail.

He leads me into the en suite, his eyes scanning the double vanity and the updated freestanding tub. They linger on my tray of beauty products by the sink, and I catch him swallowing hard. “Sutton, it’s perfect,” he whispers, intensity in his gaze. “It’s us.”

My heart skips a beat at his assessment. He’s right, the room is us. A little rustic, a little romantic, soft palettes but hard edges. I can’t take it another minute and allow the smile I’m trying to hide to escape. “I was worried for a second that you’d hate it.”