“No, I really don’t.” She tipped her face skyward, realized she was as thoroughly happy as she’d ever been. And understood exactly why. “It was fun, but I don’t want it for my work. My father said today my grandparents will never really retire, and he’s right. We Sullivans tend to pour it all in—like another family I know. I don’t want to pour it all into that, and not because of childhood trauma, not anymore. Because I’ve found other things to pour it all into.”

Brushing her hair back, she turned her face to his. “Would you like to know my best moment of the day?”

“Sure.”

“I was bringing another load of buns out of the house. I saw you and my father, my grandfather, standing together at one of the grills. Smoke’s rising up, you’ve got the turner in one hand, a beer in the other. Grandpa’s hands are moving the way they do when he’s telling a story, and you’re flipping burgers and grinning at him while Dad’s shaking his head. I don’t have to hear him to know he’s telling you to stop encouraging him.”

She took his hand, brought it to her cheek to press it there. “And standing there with a tray of hamburger buns I thought, Oh, isn’t that wonderful? Isn’t that the best? Look at the three of them, through the smoke and the music, with all the people around, with kids riding ponies, and Leo dancing with Hailey while Tricia holds the baby. There are the three men I love. There they are.”

His hand turned to grip hers, hard. His eyes never left her face. “If you say like a brother, it’s going to kill me dead, right here, right now.”

“Not remotely like a brother.” She cupped the back of his neck with her other hand, locked her lips on his. “It’s done now, Dillon. The switch flipped and there’s no turning it off again. I love you. It’s forever.”

He rose, lifted her off the chair, off her feet. Took her lips again when she linked her arms around his neck. “This is officially the best moment.”

“Mine, too.”

Then he swept her up to carry her into the house.

“Spoke too soon,” she decided. “Best may still be to come.”

“I think we’ve got a lot of bests coming. Like the day you marry me.”

“Marry? That’s—that’s fast. Like, boom!”

“Forever’s forever.”

“But—marriage is—” She felt the anxiety attack sliding in, reached to rub the bracelet she wasn’t wearing.

“It’s not boom. Breathe through it,” he told her, calm as ever. “We’re family people, Cate.”

He was right about that, she couldn’t dispute that. And yet. “Gram and Red, they love each other, but they’re not married.”

He shifted her to open the door. “Red is family, and Gram had raised hers by the time they got together. We have to make ours yet.”

“Oh Jesus, oh Jesus. I’m not a rancher, Dillon. You can’t think—”

He set her on her feet so abruptly her breath whooshed back in, and out again. “Is that what you think I want? What I expect? You’ll marry me and start, what, milking the cows, mucking the stalls? For a smart woman, you sure can be an idiot. You’ve got your work, I’ve got mine. Why in the hell would I want you to give up your work, something that makes you happy, something you’re so damn good at?”

“Okay, but—”

“ ‘But,’ my ass.” He tossed his hat on the couch, dragged his fingers through his hair. “You’ve got that fancy studio, and you’re going to want to use it, see your grandparents. I figure you’ll need something here, for when you don’t want to drive over there. So we add on here. We’ve got room. You know what you need for it. Hell, I can move into the cottage if that’s a sticking point. What the hell does it matter? It’s you I want, and I’m goddamned if you’re going to tell me you love me, and it’s forever, then make half-assed excuses about marrying me and building a life together.”

When her eyes welled, he dragged all ten fingers through his hair. “Don’t do that. I can’t fight that.”

“I’m not trying to fight. I don’t want to fight. You’d build me a studio here?”

“We, Cate. We’d build it. Don’t you understand the concept of we?”

“I haven’t had much experience with this particular area of we, so give me a break on it. Besides.” She drilled a finger into his chest. “You’ve obviously thought all this through.”

“I’ve had years of thinking.”

“And I’ve had about a minute.”

Point made, and he couldn’t deny it. “Okay. All right. I can wait.”

“Dannazione!” She threw her hands in the air. Followed that Italian curse with a few others. “Screw that. I need to ask you one question. What do you see?” She tapped her hands on her heart. “What do you see when you look at me?”

“I see a hell of a lot, but I’ll cut that down for now. I see the woman I love. I see you, damn it. I see Cate.”

She stepped to him, pressed her face to his shoulder. “I’ve had about a minute. And I’ve waited my whole life for you.”

“I’ve been here all along.”

“I couldn’t before. I couldn’t until I realized, as I’ve started to over the last few months, that I’ve stopped letting what happened to me hurt the way it used to because it brought me to you.”

“Is that a yes, or are we still going to dance around it?”

She drew back, framed his face. “What if I said I would turn that second bedroom into a nice, pretty guest room?”

“I’d say that’s not even in the area of negotiable.”

She smiled at him. “Good. Because I’d hate to marry a pushover.”

“Wait.”

She stared after him when he walked out of the room. Shook her head when he came back again. “I thought that was a moment.”

“Here’s another.” He opened his hand, showed her the ring. The little diamond sat in a simple white gold setting. “It was my mother’s, the one my father asked her with. She gave it to me when she knew how I felt, what I wanted. She said it was fine, she wouldn’t be hurt, if you wanted something that suited you better, but you should have this so it got passed on.”

She pressed a hand to her heart first, then held it out. “How could anything suit me better?”

CHAPTER THIRTY

In the morning, Cate found Julia in the henhouse gathering eggs.

“You’re up early. And I’m a little on the late side.” Julia added another egg to her bucket. “I missed Dillon before he headed out to the fields.”

“I have to get back, but I wanted to . . .” She held out her hand with its small, winking diamond.

Even as her eyes filled, Julia’s face went bright. She set down the bucket, managed an “Oh, oh!” before she pulled Cate to her.

“It means just everything that you’d want me to have your ring, that you’d want me to wear it.”

Julia drew Cate back, then pulled her in again. “I need another minute. He loves you so much. I’m so happy for him, for you, for all of us.”