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For a long moment, neither of them moved. Their breathing slowed in tandem, their bodies still tangled, and he became aware of the room around them again.

He rolled to his side, bringing her with him, and she settled against his chest with a sigh that sounded like relief. He pressed a kiss to her hair and held her, one hand tracing slow, idle patterns along her spine, and felt the last of his tension drain away.

The sheets tangled around their legs, and Amanda’s hair tickled his chin as she settled against him. He reached over and switched off the bedside lamp, letting moonlight spill through the window. Outside, a breeze stirred the branches of a nearby tree, casting shifting shadows across the walls.

He closed his eyes, her heartbeat steady against his, and let himself have this—the warmth of her, the weight of her arm across his chest, the quiet that no longer felt like solitude.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Amanda lay with her head on Grady’s chest, listening to his heartbeat gradually return to normal beneath her ear. His arm wrapped around her, his fingertips tracing absent patterns along her back, and for the moment, she was perfectly content to stay exactly where she was.

Maybe a little too content.

The thought brought reality creeping back in. Lying naked in his bed with his arm around her made it dangerously tempting to forget that whatever was happening between them came with an expiration date. Better to acknowledge that now than let either of them stumble into expectations neither could fulfill.

She lifted her head and rested her chin on his chest. “We should probably talk about something.”

His hand stopped moving. “Those are never good words to hear when there’s a naked woman in your bed.”

She gave his shoulder a light smack, although his attempt to make her laugh almost worked. “I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

A smile slipped through despite her best efforts. Leave it to him to make this more difficult by being exactly the man she'd spent the past several weeks discovering she liked far more than she'd expected.

“I just think we should make sure we’re on the same page about this.” She paused, searching for a way to say what needed to be said without diminishing what had just happened between them because it hadn't been insignificant. Not to her. “I’m going back to California.”

“I know.”

“My work is there. My house is there. Pretty much my entire life is there.” She shifted onto her side, facing him. “And yours is here. Even with the show coming to town, I'll eventually have to leave. I don't want either of us pretending otherwise.”

For several seconds, he said nothing, and uncertainty crept in. Maybe she'd misjudged what he expected. Or maybe she'd turned what should have been a straightforward conversation into something far more complicated.

Then he brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “As much as I like being with you, I’m not asking you to move to Wyoming.”

Relief came first, followed by something else she chose not to examine too closely. “I know.”

“And I’m pretty sure you’re not asking me to move to California.”

The mental image of Sheriff Grady Minor navigating Los Angeles traffic almost made her laugh. “You’d last a week.”

“A week? I wouldn’t make it through rush hour.”

He'd obviously been trying to make her laugh, but the humor didn't change the reality facing them.

“My life is here,” he continued. “Rissa’s here, my job is here, and I have no intention of changing that.”

“And I’m not asking you to.”

“So we know where we stand.”

Apparently, they did. The conversation had gone better than she'd expected, so the faint disappointment nagging at her made absolutely no sense.

She rested her head on his chest again, listening to the reassuring beat of his heart beneath her ear. “Then we enjoy this while I’m here. No expectations. And when it’s time for me to go home, neither of us makes it harder than it needs to be.”

His fingertips resumed their path along her back, but then they stopped again. The pause lasted only a few seconds, just long enough for her to notice. Then his arm drew her closer. “Deal.”

There. Sensible. Mature. Two adults acknowledging that they were attracted to each other and choosing to enjoy it without making promises neither could keep. She could handle that. She was superb at keeping the different parts of her life neatly compartmentalized.