Page 205 of Tessa and Nash

“Of what?”

“Walking into a house occupied by your entire family.”

He glances at me with obvious amusement. “Relax.”

“You say that as though your brothers have never appeared at inconvenient moments.”

“That’s a fair concern.”

The truck rolls to a quiet stop near the barn instead of the front of the house.

I glance at him.

“Strategic parking?”

“Extremely.”

We step out into the cold night air. The ranch house beams warmly in the distance, though most of the windows are dark.

Nash tilts his head slightly, listening.

“What are you doing?” I whisper.

“Checking for signs of life.”

“And?”

“I think we’re safe.”

“That seems optimistic.”

He grins. “Come on.”

We slip through the back door quietly, stepping into the mudroom where boots and coats are scattered in the familiar chaos of a house full of ranchers. But everyone is either out or in bed, so we can head towards Nash’s room without having to awkwardly explain ourselves to anyone.

His room is warm and faintly smells of cedar and laundry detergent, the low lamp on the dresser casting soft light across the space.

We simply stand there, looking at each other.

Nash steps closer, his hands settling gently at my waist again.

“You know,” he murmurs, “I had this whole speech planned.”

“That sounds ominous.”

“Something heartfelt and romantic.”

“What happened to it?”

“Honestly?”

“Yes.”

“I forgot all of it when you said you loved me.”

Warmth spreads through my chest again, the words still feeling new every time they echo in my mind.

“You’re terrible at speeches,” I say softly.