When they finally broke apart and looked at each other, he saw she still had that smile on her beautiful face. “Official business, huh?”

She nodded. “I came to talk about my future. My career as sheriff.”

He lifted a hand to her silky hair, loose and hanging in a curtain over her shoulders. She wasn’t wearing her uniform tonight. Dressed in a soft yellow blouse and white jeans, she looked sunny and feminine. But he’d bet anything she had a backup piece strapped to her ankle.

He couldn’t wait to get her inside and find out.

“You’re a great sheriff,” he said.

“I know.” There was no conceit, just that irresistible confidence. “But I’m thinking maybe I’d be a better detective. Maybe somewhere around here.”

He cupped her cheek. “Stacey, you don’t have to change a thing for me. Hope Valley’s not that far away.”

“It’s the other end of the earth,” she replied. “And after my dad’s term is up in a few months, I want to come back to this side of it. I’m thinking Sheriff Mitch Flanagan sounds really good.” She leaned up and rubbed her soft cheek against his grizzled one. “I’m done. It’s over. I’m finished hiding.”

“I knew that the minute I saw your car,” he said, covering her mouth with his again. This kiss was softer, gen tler, infinitely more tender. And when their lips parted to exchange a warm breath of night air, he murmured, “I love you, Stacey.”

Her soft sigh of happiness told him before she gave the words back. “I love you, too.”

They stood there kissing for a while longer, then, in silence, moved toward the building. Her arm hooked in his, she stayed tucked by his side, fitting against him so perfectly it was as if she’d been made to be there.

“Dean?”

He paused at the door.

Her lip caught on her bottom teeth for a moment, and she looked up at him, her eyes swimming in indecision for the first time since she’d arrived. “I’m looking forward to meeting your son.”

He knew what had put that indecision there, and knew he could offer no promises that everything would always be safe and she’d never experience pain or anguish. So he could only tell her what he told himself every single night when he hung up the phone after sharing the monsters-go-away poem with Jared.

“It’s worth it. For as long as you have it, no matter what might happen down the road, loving like that is worth it.”

She nodded once, not making any promises, not claiming to be ready to dive headfirst into all the things she’d been telling herself she didn’t want. Kids, marriage.

They had love. That was the start. And for now, that was enough.

Leslie Parrish