chin. Stared into my eyes. Made love to me, slowly. Sweetly. Until I clamped around him again, this time my release rolling over me in a steady wave.
Holt held me as he came, flooding me with his release. He kissed me long and hard. When our mouths broke apart, we were silent.
I clung to him and committed this moment to memory. This was what I would hold onto. This would give me comfort when I got lonely.
Because as we washed each other and he tucked a towel around me when we were finished, I knew our time was done.
We’d had our goodbye.
Chapter Forty-One
Holt
Baker gave.
And I took.
Same as it had always been.
I stuffed my wallet in my back pocket. Refused to look at her as she put on the dress she’d worn the night before.
That, what happened in the shower, it felt a whole lot like goodbye. I thought that was what I wanted, what I had to do, until it was staring me in the face.
Now I didn’t want it at all.
But she did.
“I’ll go get the truck warmed up,” I mumbled as she searched the floor, for what I didn’t know.
One of her shoes was at the bottom of the staircase, the other dumped over by the coffee table. Just like home.
A pang of longing hit me square in the chest. Home. I wanted it so bad, but everything was shot to hell.
I swiped my keys off the hardwood floor and was almost to the door when someone knocked. I detoured to the window, pulled the curtain sheer back, then let it float into place.
“Sorry to come by so early.” Rob tugged on the brim of his cowboy hat. “Heard you were in town and wanted to see if I could get that rent check.”
“Uh, sure.” I stepped out of the doorway to let him inside. “I’m out of coffee.” I motioned toward the sofa. “Let me get my checkbook.”
I scratched the side of my neck. Where the hell had I put it?
Baker came down the stairs, grabbing a shoe on her way.
“If this is a bad time . . .” He paused halfway to his seat.
“No. No.” I waved him off.
“Hello,” Baker said as I went upstairs.
I snatched my checkbook off the dresser and bolted back down the stairs. No need to leave the two of them alone longer than necessary. Rob liked to run his mouth.
“That Holt sure is good at making friends wherever he goes,” he said as I returned. “You’re not from around here. If you were, I’d remember you.”
Baker gave him a rigid smile as she stabbed her foot into a shoe. “Nope. Definitely not from around here.”
I scrawled out a check and ripped it from the book. “This should cover what I owe.”
Rob examined it. “So you aren’t moving out?”
Baker refused to look at me.
“I need more time.”
“Suits me.” He slapped his hands on this thighs and stood. “I better be going.”
He disappeared out the front door. I studied Baker from the end of the sofa as she stared at something straight ahead. The silence was oppressive. Even the sound of the heat cutting on did nothing to break the awkwardness.
When she stood and faced me, she’d schooled her features into a polite expression one might give a stranger.
“You’ve got lots to do.” She waved her hand around. “Like get settled back in.”
I gave her a tight-lipped smile. “Yeah.”
* * *
Instead of making the turn toward her hotel, I kept straight, away from civilization. If Baker noticed, she didn’t say a word. Whatever was out the window was far more interesting than I was.
I navigated to a stretch of open space where a herd of bison were known to roam. They didn’t let me down, their chocolate forms dotting the landscape.
I pulled into a dirt drive and parked.
“Do you think animals are happier than we are?” Baker’s question floated like she’d spoken it to no one in particular.
“In some respects, yes. Others, no. Living in the wild, it’s hard.”
“Civilization is too.”
I snorted and looked out the windshield. “Yeah. Civilization is too.”
“I used to want to run away where no one could find me. Be free like they are.”
I understood that sentiment better than I cared to admit. It was partly how I’d ended up in Wyoming.
“You can’t run away from the things you want to forget. They follow you.”
“I know.”
I leaned my head against the back glass. “The older I got, I think I knew Dad might not be my biological father. My