Page 42 of Buttercup and the Beard

“So you want to keep seeing me?” he asks.

Relief makes me sag in my chair. “Of course I want to keep seeing you. I just didn’t know if you wanted to keep seeing me, if the distance would be too much, or it would be too much of a hassle. If I would be too much of a hassle.” I’m rambling and I can’t stop. I clamp my mouth shut and lock my teeth to stay quiet.

He tugs on my arm until he pulls me into his lap and wraps his arms around me. My hands are shaking from the emotional adrenaline.

“You’re not too much. It’ll be tough, but as long as we talk to each other, I think that we can make it work, don’t you?”

I nod, and tears sting my eyes for the second time today.

“You’re crying? What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Happy. Just happy.”

“You’re one of those women?”

I nod, laughing at his horrified expression. “Yep. Cry when I’m happy, sad, angry, anxious. The littlest thing makes me leak.”

“I can live with that. As long as you come to me to dry your tears.” He brushes his thumb across my cheek, swiping up the salt water with the touch.

“I can live with that,” I parrot back to him.

“So we’re really going to do this?”

I nod. “Yeah. But…” I’m so happy right now and I don’t want to ruin it.

“But what?”

“What happens down the road?” I whisper the question.

“I figure I can help my dad get the station fixed up and fully staffed. Set some programs in place, train others to run them, and then once he’s good here, I can look at transferring back.”

“But this is your home.”

“I think that this might be my home right now, but who’s to say that can’t or won’t change?” The statement has a double meaning, one that I don’t want to read too far into, because though I have big feelings for him, and I think he does for me, feelings can change and this is still really new.

I lean forward and press my lips to his, the rugged spice of him hitting me right in every single one of my senses, and like last night when he held me, I know this is right. That with effort on both of our ends we can make this work.

17

BOONE

Bright and early Monday morning, I walk into Felt’s local ranger station. Years ago, when I first started here, the station was run-down. Over the last few years, Jackson and Connor have both put in work to yank the station into this century by upgrading our computers, putting a fresh coat of paint on the walls, and redoing the flooring from the industrial beige carpet that used to be here.

Having been here and watched the gradual changes, I’m proud of the work that I did here.

As early as it is, the night crew is probably out finishing up their trail checks, but the light coming from under Jackson’s office door tells me that he’s already in.

I rap my knuckles on the door frame twice before pushing it open.

“What are you doing here?” he asks when he see me. “You still have six days off if my math isn’t wrong.”

“It’s not wrong. I’m actually here for something else.” I run my hand along the back of my neck.

I didn’t think that this would be this hard. Jackson knows some of the situation back home with my dad. He’s had to send rangers to help out a few times over the years. He also knows the personal side of why I haven’t been home, which is why he never sent me to help out the station.

Jackson’s eyes narrow on me. “Fuck. You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

It’s what makes Jackson a good leader for the station—he doesn’t miss much. I chew on the inside of my cheek before answering. “Yeah.”

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