Page 68 of Lucky Haven

“I like your shirt,” I murmur when she joins me, after I yank her into my arms and give her a proper kiss hello.

“Thanks,” she says breathlessly. “It’s not my usual style.”

“Makes your tits look good.”

“It’s my new style, then.” She giggles. “At least on the ranch.”

I’m not going to argue with her instincts to keep the tight t-shirt for my eyes only.

I unhitch the bagger attachment and gesture for her to follow me in the direction of the chicken coop.

The chickens are so delighted with the grass clippings that they make a racket, which brings Bellamy running, my mother close behind her.

“Now we’ve got drama,” I say.

Bellamy gets really close to Haven and whispers, “They’re scary.”

“So scary she loves them,” Luna says.

Haven crouches down and scoops one of the squawking chickens into her arms. “This little dinosaur scares you?”

Bellamy giggles and goes closer to her. “Yes.”

“You seem pretty brave to me.” Haven shifts her hold, and suddenly, Bellamy is mostly holding the chicken in her little arms.

They stay like that, heads pressed together, the chicken ruffling its feathers between them, until Bellamy starts to move away. Haven smoothly shifts the chicken to the ground and stands, giving the little girl space to get closer to the next bird she sets her eyes on with autonomy.

“Smooth,” I whisper as Haven comes to stand next to me.

“I recognized the look in her eye. It’s the same way people of all ages look at a book they aren’t sure they should be reading. Little kids wanting to try a chapter book, adults wanting to read a romance novel. All you gotta do is let them know it’s okay to crack the spine and have a look inside.”

“You’re a genius.”

“Just a girl who likes to help people get over their fears.”

“And who helps you get over your fears?”

She bites her lower lip, fighting back a secret smile.

“Last night, you did,” she whispers when there’s a loud cluck and a rustle of feathers to hide her words under.

“What are you afraid of that we can tackle tonight?”

She twists away, her cheeks rosy and her eyes bright.

Sharing secrets with her is the best.

As it happens, we don’t end up fooling around that night, and that’s also totally the best in a different way.

She brings a book to bed, and I’ve got one, too, I always do, so we read for a bit, her head on my shoulder. And before I know it, her book folds closed, because she’s drifted off.

I take it out of her hands and mark her page before I turn out the light.

She’s extra soft when she’s asleep, and as I listen to the house settle around us, and feel her even breaths rise and fall, I think how fucking lucky I am that she stormed across the street and kissed me in front of Jeb Martin.

How lucky I am to get to have her as mine, if only for a summer. If only for a ruse. I don’t fucking care. She’s everything to me, regardless of the original reason that drove her into my arms.

And as I drift off, I think to myself that I haven’t slept this well, or this deeply, since before I joined the army.