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"For dragging you into this."

I watched her dig herself deeper in a hole she had no business being in. She kept talking, dismantling the best four days of my life like she was returning a defective product.

"This whole arrangement was ridiculous. I never should've asked you to pretend to be my boyfriend. It was selfish, and now Kenny's attacking you because of me, and⁠—"

"Stop." The word came out harsher than I’d intended.

Her gaze snapped to mine. "What?"

"You didn't drag me anywhere. I've been trying to get you to notice me for two damn years."

Silence. Even the music drifting from the barn seemed to fade. I ran a hand through my hair.

Fuck it.

I'd spent my entire life being the guy who had the gift of gab. And now, standing in front of the only woman I'd ever wanted to keep, I was done talking around the truth.

"Do you honestly think I agreed to this because I felt sorry for you? Because I actually care about pissing off Kenny? Because I thought it'd be fun?"

Her lips parted. "I don't⁠—"

"I wanted you before you ever came up with that insane agreement. Before this wedding. Before Kenny and Annie and all this bullshit."

"Damon."

"Those kisses were real, Mikayla."

Her breath caught.

"Every damn one of them. The jealousy? Real. The nights we spent together? Real. Every time I touched you, every time I looked at you, every time I wanted to punch some guy for looking at you too long⁠—"

"That last one isn't particularly healthy."

"Never claimed to be well-adjusted."

A tiny smile tugged at her mouth. There she was. My girl.

Then it disappeared. Dissolving right in front of me. "You're saying all the right things."

"No.” I shook my head. “I'm saying the true things. There's a difference."

Her eyes shone. And I knew. I knew she was scared. Scared to believe me. Scared to give someone the power to hurt her again.

I stepped closer and continued practicing radical honesty. "Baby, I don't know how to do this."

Her expression crumpled just enough to make my heart ache.

"I've never been the guy who wanted forever. Hell, I've never been the guy who wanted next weekend." I cupped her cheek. "But then you walked into my life with your pencil skirts, color-coded schedules, terrifying organizational skills, and that smart mouth, and somehow everything changed."

A tear slipped down her cheek. I brushed it away with my thumb.

"I used to think love was something that happened to other people. People like my parents. Even my brothers. People who knew how to be serious about something besides cattle prices." I swallowed. "But you make me want things I've never wanted before."

"Like what?" she whispered.

"Sunday mornings. Arguments about where to put the Christmas tree. You stealing all the blankets for the next fifty years."

Her lips trembled. "Fifty years?"