Page 176 of Saltwater Cowboy

He chuckled. “And tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow…” I leaned up, brushing my lips over his. “We do it all over again.”

And maybe that was the best kind of love story. The kind that didn’t need some big, dramatic ending.

Just two people, choosing each other.

Every single day.

FOREVER AND EVER, AMEN

I woke up to the sound of birds outside the open window, the warm summer breeze stirring the curtains. The bed beside me was empty, but that wasn’t unusual. Wells had always been an early riser.

Still, I missed the solid weight of him next to me.

A year ago, I had a room across the hall, a place that was mine and mine alone. Now? That space sat empty, untouched. I hadn’t slept there in months. At some point, without either of us really acknowledging it, his room became our room. His bed became our bed. His life became our life.

The two of us had become one.

I stretched lazily before slipping out of bed, padding barefoot across the hardwood. The house was quiet, save for the distant sound of something soft and familiar.

Music.

Curious, I made my way to the front door and eased it open, stepping onto the porch.

And there he was.

Wells sat on the porch swing, his back to me, a guitar resting in his lap. His fingers moved effortlessly over the strings, playing a melody that reached deep into my chest and squeezed.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine…

I stopped in my tracks, my breath catching.

My grandma used to sing that song to me when I was little, her voice soft and soothing as she rocked me to sleep. It was a memory I’d tucked away, one that made my heart ache and swell at the same time.

And now, here was Wells, playing it like he had no idea what it meant to me.

I didn’t say anything. Just stood there, watching him, memorizing every detail—the way his shoulders moved as he strummed, the way his head tilted slightly, the way the early morning light touched his skin like it belonged there.

The song came to an end, and he exhaled a small breath, fingers stilling over the strings.

“I know you’re there, Sunshine.”

A smile tugged at my lips as I stepped forward, slipping my arms around his shoulders from behind, resting my chin on top of his head. “How long did you know?”

“The second you opened the door,” he said, reaching up to squeeze my hand. “You have the softest footsteps, but Granger thumped his tail when he saw you.”

I chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Traitor.”

He turned slightly, looking up at me. “Didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No.” I glanced at the guitar.

His lips curled into a small smile. “Good.”

He set the guitar aside and pulled me around to sit beside him. I leaned into him, letting the warmth of the morning and the steady rhythm of his heart against mine wrap around me.

The morning air was warm, carrying the scent of wildflowers and the promise of a slow summer day.