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Then—

His hand slides around my waist.

Pulls me in.

Effortless.

Natural.

Like we’ve been doing this forever.

“You okay?” he asks.

Still asks.

Always asks.

I nod.

“Yeah.”

And I mean it.

I glance out at the land.

The barn.

The house.

The porch.

“I love it here,” I say softly.

He follows my gaze.

“I can see why.”

A beat.

Then—

“I want to get married here.”

The words come out before I can overthink them.

Before I can second-guess.

Before fear has a chance to step in.

He goes still.

Just for a second.

Then—

He looks at me.

Really looks at me.