Must Have Been Love

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Friends to Lovers…

(In this scene, Abby and Declan are in Pueblo, Colorado for a rodeo. They’ve just come back from dinner to their hotel, but will that be the end of their night?)

Abby had a mental list of what she called “near misses” in her life.

The last thing she needed now was a man with wounds—Declan’s love for Emilie being the most grievous one—that went deeper than her own, if that was possible. And yet, beyond that caution, and the attraction she felt, he also touched her heart.

He stood there now, waiting. 

“Declan, no,” she murmured.

No need to tick off all the reasons he was wrong for her. Or all the reasons Abby was wrong for him. “This isn’t what I expected when I asked you to come to Pueblo.”

“What did you want, Abby?”

“I would never mislead you. I’m not…available, and frankly neither are you.”

“I know all that. And yet here we are.” Declan smoothed a strand of hair off her cheek, and his light touch made her weak in the knees. “Call me whatever names you like after I say this, but I really want to kiss you.”

Despite her misgivings, Abby had to be honest. “And I really want you to.”

Their kiss, sweet and tender, seemed to move through her until she felt breathless. Abby prided herself on fierce independence. She always had, even before tragedy had broken her too, then hardened her spirit. She needed no one. Couldn’t bear the thought of more— “Declan, if we haven’t learned our lesson by now—”

His voice was a lazy drawl. “Don’t kid yourself.” He angled his head for a second kiss. “This has been coming for a long time.”

“In your dreams, maybe,” she said. “My nightmare.”

“All through dinner,” he insisted. “On the road, at the arena earlier with your bulls, and even before. You don’t feel it, you’re lying.”

“I brought you to Pueblo because I needed help with the stock. That’s all.”

As if he hadn’t heard, he closed her mouth with another kiss. 

“I’ll hate you for this,” she managed. 

“Hate me later,” he said.