Page 77 of Takes Two to Tango

They walked silently toward Brent's place and sat on the edge of the porch, side by side, but not touching. No comfortable sliding into favorite blue jeans feeling between them. Rather the air pressed them. As if the storm wasn't really over.

Brent broke the awkward moment. "The town is messed up pretty good, but we'll survive. I'll need to go help with the cleanup later, but I felt it was more important for Hank to feel safe. Even after your aunt picked him up, he looked freaked out. I figured putting him to work helping me clean up around here would keep his mind occupied."

"Thank you for thinking about him."

"Why wouldn't I? You don't give me much credit, do you?"

Rayne’s chest tightened at his words. "You know that's not true."

He met her response with silence, his gaze much more telling than any words he could speak. She'd hurt him and he'd been nursing it. "I didn't know you were coming home today."

"Coming home,"she said, smoothing her skirt against her thighs. "Sounds weird. For the past few years my vision of home was so different from this, but, yeah, it’s still home to me.”

He didn't say anything. Didn't even look at her. On one level it made her angry. He didn't know anything about what she felt, and yet, he pulled away. On an other level, she understood. He was trying to protect himself. She'd done the same once. She'd written that poem challenging him to be who he longed to be and challenging him to love her. When he did neither, she'd packed up and run. She supposed he thought she was doing the same now, except the shoe was on the other foot.

He'd declared his love and wanted her at his side.

"You know," Brent said, interrupting the plop of rain dripping from the eaves. "So many times I gave girls the boot. I wasn't an asshole about it or anything. But I never knew how they felt. How they wanted more from me than what I could give. Now I get it. I see how bad it sucks to put your eggs in a basket only to have them dropped and cracked."

Rayne slid her hand over to his. ''Who says I'm cracking your eggs? Now who's the one not giving the other person a fair shake?"

He straightened but tightened his grip on her hand. "I can't really ask you to stay here. You've been working hard for a long time to get to this moment. You need to take it. You have to take it."

She nodded. "Yes, I do. I mean, I am."

"So, New York it is," he said, turning his hand over and grasping hers. "I guess I’ll get used to the noise."

"What?" She nearly broke her neck she turned her head toward him so hard. He looked almost smug sitting there in tight blue jeans, a damp T-shirt, and a knowing smile.

“If you're going to New York City, then I'm going, too. I told my dad I won't be buying into Hamilton Construction. I'mrolling the dice and trying writing as my full-time job. I may end up sleeping on benches in Central Park, but I believe in us. So, where you go, I will go."

She couldn't believe his words. He'd move to New York for her? She couldn't imagine him living anywhere else but where he now sat. He loved Oak Stand. He loved Texas. But he loved her more.

Whatever the heck cockles were, well, hers were warmed.

“Let me get this straight. You’re going to move to New Yock City with all those cabs and crowded streets. With the lights blinking on and off all hours of the night and horns honking and-"

"Well, you’re not really making it easy to want to, Rayne Rose," he said, heavy on the sarcasm. But he didn't let go of her hand.

"You're serious about making this work, aren't you?"

He shrugged. "I've spent years merely existing. I love this little town. I have lots of good memories here, but when you walked back into my world, everything changed. What I wanted changed. What I needed changed."

She blinked at the emotion lacing his words. It made her humble... and happy.

"But what I really need to know, Rayne-bow, is if you want me there with you."

Rayne felt a clog form in her throat. Raw tears perched unshed in the back of her throat, and a huge sweeping warmth flooded her. At that moment, she couldn't have talked if it would have saved her life. She shook her head and waved her hands, trying to rein in her emotions. But they wouldn't be held. Today had been too much. His words had been too much.

"Hey, babe. Don't cry," Brent said, his voice gentle. He moved closer, sweeping an arm around her shoulders and gathering her into him. She fell against him, making noisy halfsobs into his shirt. She wanted to stop crying. To make him understand how much his words meant to her, but her body didn't obey. So she went with it. She let out all her fear from the past few hours, all her regrets with Brent, all her pent-up frustrations.

After a minute or two, she pulled away and wiped her cheeks. Oddly enough, she felt much better. Cleansed.

"Sorry," she croaked. "I guess everything from today came crashing in on me.”

Brent withdrew his arm and gave a heavy sigh.

She lifted her legs from where they hung off the porch and tucked them beneath her. She grabbed Brent's hand and tugged until he focused those gorgeous baby blues on her. "I have always loved you. Maybe from the very moment I saw you. We clicked. Like we were supposed to go together. Even when I married Phillip, I didn't feel that same connection."

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