Page 186

I loved going home. In fact, returning home was my favorite part of traveling. I loved my house. My bed. My ridiculously expensive espresso machine that knew exactly how I liked my coffee and had never once disappointed me.

Unlike men. Men were notoriously unreliable. Espresso machines, on the other hand, were a solid investment.

Especially compared to charming cowboys who flirted with anything possessing a pulse and a reasonable amount of estrogen.

Not that I was thinking about Damon. I absolutely wasn't thinking about Damon.

Or the fact that I’d woken up in his arms which triggered a panic attack, and I snuck out of his bed while he was sleeping and left without saying goodbye.

Or the fact that I'd spent the entire morning in town to avoid him, distracting myself with work because I just couldn’t bring myself to face him in the cold, harsh light of day.

Or the fact that despite my disappearing act, I’d obsessively checked my phone, not letting a minute pass without looking to see if he’d texted or called. Spoiler alert: he hadn’t.

Nope.

Not thinking about any of that.

"Sweetheart!" Aunt Cherise emerged from her cabin next door to my mom’s, wrapped me in a hug that threatened to dislocate something. "Everything was absolutely perfect. You did such a wonderful job with the wedding."

"Thank you."

"Seriously, Kayla." Uncle Ray appeared beside her. "I've been to a lot of weddings, and this one was something special."

"Well, I'm glad everyone had a good time."

"A good time?" Aunt Cherise laughed. "I haven't had that much fun in years. And those Lockhart boys!" She fanned herself dramatically. "Good Lord."

"Cherise," Uncle Dale warned.

"What? I'm married, not dead."

I smiled.

Over the next ten minutes, my entire family descended on me as they all congregated, checked out, and got on the road. I received approximately seventeen hugs, twenty compliments, and a dozen or so unsolicited opinions about my relationship with Damon.

Apparently, everyone thought we were perfect together.

Which just proved that people would believe absolutely anything if you kissed a handsome cowboy in public enough times.

Because the truth was, as amazing as last night was, as the past four days were, I was a realist, and the weekend had been fake. The relationship had been fake.

The feelings… Well. Those were none of my business.

Because whatever Damon thought he felt, the reality was, his track record didn’t back up his claim. As amazing as his declarations and promises were, they were just words. Words were fleeting.

As much as I wished I could, there was no way I could base my future on words. Actions were real. And Damon’s actions were undeniable.

Flirting was like breathing to him. It was part of his DNA. Even if I believed he had the best intentions, which strangely, I did, there was no way I could have a long-distance boyfriend who behaved the way he did. I didn't do flirting. Not with other women, anyway.

I'd already been with a man who thought fidelity was more of a suggestion than a requirement. I wasn't interested in a sequel. Especially one starring a cowboy with dimples and a smile that should require a warning label.

"Hey, Mikayla."

I turned to find Dylan Lockhart walking toward me. Like his brothers, he was tall, broad-shouldered, and undeniably attractive.

Apparently, the Lockhart family gene pool had been personally blessed by the gods of romance novel cover models.

"Hey." I smiled.