Page 113 of Daybreak

“I found the box with your linens. It says linens on the side, and that’s your writing. It got mixed up with the boxes from my stuff. Is there anything breakable in this box, or is it all linens?”

“It’s all linens, but lord, girl. You don’t want to hurt yourself over a pair of sheets,” he said and then stood back as she gave it a shove off the stack, then walked the floor beside her as she made her way down.

As soon as she was standing on the lowest box, he swooped her off and into his arms. “Don’t ever fuss at me again for putting myself in danger,” he muttered.

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Don’t be mad. This is important. We have to sleep in that bed together on our wedding night…with the sheets on and the covers ready to be pulled up against the cold. I dream about it in my sleep.”

He sighed. “Heard. But I’m carrying the box in the house, and I will pull every one of these boxes down to single level before we leave this garage, so sit and wait.”

“Heard,” she echoed and plopped down on the box she’d knocked down.

A few minutes later, they were on their way inside and going down the hall to the primary. Together, they unpacked the sheets, and together, they made up the bed.

“Are you satisfied now?” Gunner asked.

“Maybe we should take a test drive,” she said.

His eyes narrowed. “Test drive?”

She nodded.

“How far do you want to go?” he asked.

She put her hand in the middle of his chest, feeling the heart pounding beneath her hand. “As far as the ride will take us.”

He pulled the sweater she was wearing over her head and stripped her down to the skin. “How fast do you want me to drive?”

She closed her eyes, already locked into the blood rush. “You’re the roadrunner. Fast is the only gear you have. Just start the engine and gun it.”

He took her at her word.

It was the fastest ride she’d ever taken, and the farthest away she’d been. But it was the fall back into his arms she would never forget—or the words he had whispered in her ear.

Chapter 21

Less than a week later, the house was finished. Holly had the photo from her childhood hanging in a hallway—the one that had been taken with the baseball team. She intended to hang one from their wedding right beside it.

The contractor was gone. All signs of building scraps removed. There would never be grass in the yard, but the wildlife in the area had become familiar enough with their presence now that they heard coyotes in the night and birdsong in the days.

The Spanish hacienda, with the adobe walls, the red terracotta roof, the arched windows and doorways, and the decorative ironwork, had become the cherry on top of the town of Crossroads. The blacktop road leading from the house to the highway was clearly visible, as was the NO TRESPASSING sign at the foot of the hill.

* * *

During the same time, Jacob had enlarged and updated the kitchen in their little home, and Pearl ruled it like the queen she was, polishing appliances after each use as if they were jewels. And to further please the love of his life, he announced a new closing time of 10:00 p.m. and warned the customers to get used to it, because life was passing way too fast. When they all began to moan, he silenced them with a truth they could not deny.

“One day, you will regret the time you spent here with me when you could have been home with your wife and family. People die. Children grow up and move away. Ten o’clock is closing time.”

In the end, they lifted their drinks in a toast to Jacob and took the change in stride.

Pearl was happy. Jacob was happy, and when Pearl’s bedtime came, she no longer went to bed alone.

* * *

The night before their wedding, Holly Dillon went home and slept in her childhood bedroom. Going back to the ranch for this night only had been symbolic—her last night as a single woman.

The next morning when she woke, her first thought was pure joy.

Today is the day I become Gunner’s wife.