Page 32 of Whiskey Proposal

It’s no longer mine, but there’s something in my body that recognizes its original environment. I’ll need to find this feeling in Denver instead of sitting on my couch in my pajamas worrying about how I’m going to pay my bills.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

A screech rips out of me, and wings flap from the birds I scare from the trees. I whirl around. Lane. My heart almost stops at the sight of the tall, dark cowboy—hat and everything. Good thing I didn’t see him with that earlier. I might’ve swan-dived into his bed moments after we said I do.

Shock crosses his face and he puts his hands up like I’m a startled—and ornery—mare. “Shit, I’m sorry. Sorry. I should’ve known that you wouldn’t be so chill if you’d heard me.”

I bristle at his true statement. “I thought I was alone, and you snuck up on me.”

“I didn’t mean to. Not consciously. Maybe I did, thinking you’d decide to turn back if you knew I was following you.”

Oh. His honesty is refreshing, but also, what do I do with it? “I might’ve.”

He nods. “I wanted you to see it. It’s one of my favorite spots.”

Me, personally? No, he must mean he likes to show it off in general. “I can tell by the picnic table.”

He flashes a quick smile. “It kind of stands out. When Myles’s kids visit, it’s nice to have somewhere to hang out.”

He’s talked about his brothers, but not so much about Myles’s kids. “I can’t picture you being Uncle Lane.”

“I’m a great uncle.”

I lift a brow. “I feel like you’re a stern uncle. Do they have to make the bed and pick up their toys?”

Lane’s eyes crinkle at the corners when he laughs. “Yes, except Elsa’s a teenager, so her toys are all electronic, and Devon’s even worse. If I let him, he’ll sleep all day.”

“So you make him learn how to change oil?”

Pride fills his face and a not-so-little tendril of affection wraps around my heart. “They both can change a flat, rotate tires, replace their brake pads, change batteries, change oil, replace the air filter, and hook up their engine to diagnose a code, among other things.”

“Dang. That’s really cool.”

He nods again and the soft trickle of the river fills the silence. He cares so much, and I defaulted to accusing him of being a crook. He might’ve been once, but he’s clawed himself into good standing.

No, he didn’t claw his way there. He had help, and maybe that’s the source of my bitterness. “I’m sorry about what I said. I aimed low and hit my target.”

“I’m sorry too,” he says quietly and shoves his hands in his jeans pockets. The view of an easygoing cowboy with remorse in his eyes and surrounded by wilderness isn’t one I’m going to forget. It’s just another thing I’ll see at night when I close my eyes. Another image of him to add to my growing collection. “This all has to be hard for you. You have a new business you’re trying to run and you got plucked out of Colorado and told to marry some obnoxious prick. And you did it for your brother and your niece.”

“I owe Brooks. He got me out of here and supported me through college. He gave me the push out of the nest I didn’t know I needed.” Familiar heat jabs the back of my eyes. It wasn’t quite like that. “The least I can do is suffer through how obscenely obnoxious you are.”

His lips twitch. “It’s a fault. I’m working on it.”

“I can’t tell.” A giggle slips out and some of the humor fades. “I can blame the stress, but I think I’m still a little raw after learning you agreed to meet me out of pity.”

“It wasn’t pity, Em. I’ve been hearing about you from your dad for years. Since I moved here. It was like getting to meet an elusive celebrity.”

“Sure.” What did my dad tell him? “I’m sure he left out a lot of stuff.”

“No. He was quite self-reflective. He knew what he’d done wrong, and he regretted it.”

I blink away the tears crowding my eyes. “I guess that’s something. More than my mom probably felt.”

“He didn’t talk about her much.”

“Good. She’s not worth anyone’s time, not even his.” I fold my arms around myself and face the water. “What’d he say? About me?”

“He was proud.”