His head came up and he looked down at her, her long, dark blonde hair spread across the blanket, her gentle, dark brown eyes warm on him.

“The only boy you ever loved,” he corrected and her lips quirked in her cute smile.

Then they stopped quirking and she looked deep in his eyes, her hand gliding along his back, in, up his chest so it could cup his jaw.

“The only boy I ever loved,” she said quietly.

His eyes moved over her beautiful face.

Then he whispered, “Yeah.”

Then he dropped his head and kissed her on a blanket by the side of the creek at the watering hole, one of their horses, Dreamweaver chewing at the grass ten feet away, the hot, muggy Indiana sun beating down on their bodies.

A perfect day. Nothing could be more perfect. Nothing.

Until tomorrow.

*

Clarisse rode in front of Fin on Dreamweaver’s back, her mind on the fact she was late and also on the fact she didn’t give a flip.

All day at the watering hole with a picnic basket and Fin.

Nope, she didn’t give a flip.

She knew she was supposed to be doing other stuff. She was getting married tomorrow.

She also didn’t give a flip about that either. Fin asked her to spend the day with him and tomorrow would be crazed, she knew it. It was their day but she’d been to a lot of weddings. It might be their day but they wouldn’t be spending a lot of it together.

No way she was saying no.

Fin trotted the horse into the barn then stopped her close to her stall and threw a leg over, dismounting. Then his hands came to her h*ps and he pulled her off but he did this standing close so her body skimmed his the whole way down.

That was Fin. Three years ago, when she opened the floodgates, he took every opportunity to cop a feel.

She didn’t give a flip about that either.

When her feet were on the ground, instead of moving away, his arms circled her.

She put her hands on his chest and tipped her head back to look at him.

“I gotta get goin’, baby,” she said softly. “Get to Dad and Dusty’s, take a shower. The girls will be around in an hour and the guys are descending here soon. We have to hurry, put up Dream and get a move on.”

“Need you to come in the house,” he told her.

“Fin, we don’t have time.”

His arms gave her a squeeze.

“We’re makin’ time, beautiful. I need you to come in the house.”

She suddenly started thinking about all the things she needed to think about. Fin’s bachelor party tonight and how she hoped he didn’t get blitzed and his idiot friends didn’t do anything stupid. Her girls were coming over and the beauty technicians showing up to do manicures, pedicures, facials and shoulder massages. She had to rinse out her bikini so it could air dry overnight and she could pack it with her other stuff tomorrow.

“Fin –”

“Reesee, honey,” another arm squeeze, “ten minutes.”

She studied him and saw something in his face. She didn’t know what. But whatever it was, it made her nod.

“I’ll deal with Dream when you take off,” he muttered, grabbed Dream’s reins and led her to the stall where he clipped her to the long leather strap there.

Then Fin took Clarisse’s hand, led her into the house and up the stairs.

The house, now, was just Fin’s.

And, tomorrow, Clarisse’s.

Kirb was gone. Like Clarisse and No, he’d gone to college. He studied agriculture, graduated and now he worked the land with Fin but he and his girlfriend lived in an apartment in town, saving to buy a house in one of the developments close by.

Fin’s Mom was gone too but she’d only moved out three months ago. She did this so Fin and Clarisse could have the house just to themselves starting out. And she was able to because she’d been working the last six years, starting out as Tanner Layne’s receptionist part-time. Then Mimi needed her back so she worked part-time for Mr. Layne and part-time for Mimi. Then Mimi really needed her at the front and helping with baking so she went full-time for Mimi which was where she stayed. She didn’t make a mint but when her Dad died last year, he left her a little nest egg and Kirb and Fin gave her more. She wasn’t living the highlife, she had a small, one-bedroom apartment that was close enough she could walk to the Coffee House and it was cute. So she wasn’t complaining.

When Fin guided her to the top of the stairs, he turned right toward where the bathroom was and where his Mom and Dad’s room used to be. Then he went to the closed door to the bedroom but she smelled it.

Fresh paint.

Her brows drew together and Fin opened the door, pulled her through and then stopped them.

She stared.

“Holy cow,” she whispered.

She’d said (to everyone) one of the first things she was going to do after she moved into the farmhouse was make their bedroom hers and Fin’s own. And she’d spent some time researching what she wanted to do with it.

And this was it. Almost exactly like the magazine picture she showed to anyone who would look.

Dark teal-gray walls. White ceiling. Heavy but elegant, dark wood furniture including a queen-size bed. Glass-bottomed, tall lamps on each nightstand with a pull string that had a crystal dangling at the bottom of the chain. A big, plush, dark gray area rug under the bed.

On one of the dressers, one of Dusty’s vases, a big one. This one not her usual colors or shapes. It was obviously made special, a matte gray outside, the inside of the curving lip, a shiny teal. It was gorgeous.

On the walls black-framed, cream matted jumble frames with a variety of black and white photos of Fin, Clarisse or Fin and Clarisse throughout the entire seven years they were together.

And there was a big frame made of curly-edged mirror holding Clarisse’s favorite picture of her and Fin.

Fin was leaning against the side of the barn, his ever-present, ratty baseball cap on his head, a white t-shirt covering his chest, faded jeans on his legs, workmen’s boots on his feet, beat up leather workmen’s gloves on his hands. Clarisse was leaning against Fin wearing short-shorts, a cute tee and even cuter flat sandals. One of his arms was wound around her waist, the other hand dangling. One of her arms, hidden from view, was wrapped around his waist, her other hand on his abs. She was in profile, Fin full face, his head was back, pressed against the barn, her chin was dipped down. Both of them were laughing.

Dusty took that picture. Clarisse adored it.

“Wedding present,” Fin muttered and she looked up at him. “From your Mom.”