Page 67 of The Promises We Broke
I picked at the grass between us, not trusting myself to meet his eyes. "It's hard to let go of something you've carried for so long. The anger, the hurt... it becomes part of who you are."
"And now?"
"Now I'm remembering why I loved you in the first place," I admitted, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
The silence stretched between us, heavy with everything we weren't saying. I could feel him looking at me, could sense the careful way he was breathing.
"Billie," he said softly.
I made the mistake of looking at him then. His eyes were soft and warm and full of something that looked like hope mixed with longing. He was leaning slightly toward me, his hand resting on the grass between us, and it would be so easy to close the distance. To let myself fall back into the dream we'd built here when we were too young to know how easily dreams could shatter.
"We should head back," I said abruptly, pushing to my feet. "You shouldn't be sitting on the ground too long with that cast."
He blinked, the moment broken, and I saw something that might have been disappointment flicker across his features before he nodded. "Of course. You're right."
I helped him get back to his feet, trying to ignore the way his hand felt in mine, trying not to notice the way he didn't let go immediately once he was steady.
"Thank you," he said as we walked back toward the house. "For coming, for seeing what I'm trying to build here."
"Thank you for showing me." I paused at my car, keys already in my hand. "It's going to be a wonderful home, Gage."
"I hope so," he said, and there was something in his voice that made me think he wasn't just talking about the house.
"Do you need a ride back to the ranch?"
"No, Trace is picking up some supplies and I need to grab some measurements for him. I'll catch a ride back with him when he comes to drop them off."
I drove away with my hands shaking and my heart racing, the image of his hopeful face burned into my memory. This was exactly what I'd been afraid of. That spending time with him would make me remember not just the boy I'd loved, but all the reasons I'd loved him.
And sitting by that swimming hole, watching him talk about the future he was building, I'd felt something crack open in my chest that I'd kept carefully locked away for eleven years.
I was falling for him again. Despite all my careful boundaries and professional distance and determination to keep things simple.
I was falling for Gage Farrington all over again, and I had absolutely no idea what to do about it.
Chapter 24
Billie
Ichanged outfits three times before settling on a simple sundress and cardigan that struck the right balance between casual and date-worthy. Not that this was officially a date. Except that it absolutely was, and my stomach had been doing acrobatics all morning at the thought.
The Willowbrook Harvest Festival was one of those perfect small-town traditions that felt like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting. Main Street was closed to traffic and lined with booths selling everything from homemade apple butter to hand-carved wooden toys. The air smelled like cinnamon and woodsmoke, and everywhere I looked, families and couples were laughing and enjoying the crisp autumn afternoon.
I was supposed to meet Gage by the cider stand at two o'clock, but I'd arrived fifteen minutes early because Aunt Helen's house had started to feel like a cage. Now I stood in the shadow of Marie's bakery booth, watching families pose for photos with thehay bale scarecrow display and trying not to think about how long it had been since I'd been on an actual date.
"You look beautiful."
I spun around to find Gage standing behind me, and my breath caught in my throat. He was wearing dark jeans and a soft gray henley that brought out his eyes, and for the first time since he'd been back, he was walking without crutches. Xander had removed his cast earlier in the week, and seeing him move freely, even with the slight limp, made my heart do something complicated in my chest.
"Hi," I said, suddenly feeling sixteen again. "Look at you, walking around like a regular person."
His laugh was warm and genuine. "Feels strange not having those damn crutches. I keep reaching for them out of habit."
He stepped closer, close enough that I could smell his cologne—something woodsy and warm that made me want to lean in and breathe deeply. "Ready for this?"
"Ready for what? The festival, or...?"
"Both," he said, and the honesty in his voice made my heart skip.
