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two halves of her warred, battled. The half that yearned to give in, to remain here with him. To be what he wanted, deserved. And the half that couldn’t. That knew she would only make him resent her when she refused to give up always leaving and driving away from him. She silently wept because hurting him would be an inevitability.

But his arms banded around her, refusing to let her pull away.

“I’m not asking for forever, Cherrie.” He pinched her chin, tilted her head back so she had to meet his bright gaze. “You’re here for two weeks. I know you’ll be busy selling jewelry and enjoying the rally. And I have to work at the bar. But in between those times, I want to be with you. I want to wake up to you. Roll over and make love to you in the middle of the night. That’s all I’m asking, Cherrie. Give us those two weeks. Nothing more.”

Bad idea. It will not be as simple as he makes it sound.

If she were smart, if she possessed a self-protective bone in her body, she’d stand up, dress, get on her bike and drive into town. Not look back. This way only led to heartache, to longing for a future that didn’t belong to them.

She had to say no. As much as it would disappoint him and hurt her, she had to say no...

“Okay.”

CHAPTER FIVE

MADDOX HAD LIED.

After making love to Cherrie for the first time two weeks ago, he’d looked her in the face and lied.

When he’d told her he didn’t want forever, just the two weeks, it hadn’t been true. And now, as he watched her place her packed suitcases by his front door, he had to pay the price for that lie.

He stood in the foyer, composed and silent. But inside... Inside, he howled with panic, fear and grief. She was leaving him. Logically, he’d known the day after the rally would arrive, and he would have to watch her walk out his door. Yet somehow, he’d convinced himself that after the two weeks they’d shared—her hanging out at the bar with him, riding together, making the most passionate, soul-searing love, waking up together and sipping coffee out on the wraparound porch of his cabin... Somehow he’d convinced himself that she’d fallen in love with him just as he’d lost his heart to her, and Cherrie wouldn’t be able to leave Rose Bend. Leave him.

But he’d willingly, desperately fooled himself.

Cherrie had never spoken of a future for them. Never led him to believe she’d changed her mind about being wrong for him—being wrong for each other. Which was bullshit. She was created for him. His most primal instinct declared that fact with the assuredness of the sun rising in the east. Still, as each day passed, his hope of her realizing this truth diminished until here they stood. Her, with one foot literally out his front door, and him standing there, helplessly watching with a travel mug of coffee in his hand.

If this wasn’t so pathetic, he’d laugh at the absurdity of it.

“I think that’s everything,” Cherrie said, swiping her palms down the outside of her denim-encased thighs in a gesture that Maddox had come to realize was her tell. She was nervous.

Of what? That he’d throw himself at her feet and beg her to stay?

No, she didn’t need to worry. He wouldn’t do that.

Probably.

Maybe.

Fuck it. He couldn’t make any promises.

“Here.” He handed her the travel mug. “Coffee for the road. I’ll take your bags to the RV.”

“Maddox, you don’t have to do that. I got them.”

“Cherrie,” he said, not dropping his arm with the coffee. “Take the coffee. I have the bags.”

She sighed, rolling her eyes. But the corner of her mouth ticked up, and it required every bit of restraint not to press a kiss there. He needed to get out of here. Just for a few minutes to get himself together. And carrying her suitcases to the RV that would take her away from him provided the perfect excuse.

By the time he had the luggage stowed away and double-checked the security of the hitch connecting the trailer housing her motorcycle, he’d gotten ahold of himself and returned to the house.

“You’re good to go,” he said, sliding his hands in his front pockets.

“Thanks.” She smiled, but it trembled, and his gut rolled. “And thank you for the coffee. It’s really good. You could give Mimi’s Café a run for its money.”

“Now that’s just blasphemous,” he drawled, in spite of the pain clenching his chest.

She snorted, but it was faint, and this attempt at normalcy, at “we’re just buddies preparing to say goodbye,” grated his nerves. They were so much more than that. At least she was to him.

“Cherrie—”

“Wait. I have something for you.” She bent and picked up a small gift bag by the door that he hadn’t noticed. “I made it just before leaving for Rose Bend, meaning to sell it at Daryl and Belinda’s store. But I couldn’t. This was...is yours.”

Surprised, Maddox silently accepted the bag and reached inside, removing the tissue paper–wrapped item. In seconds, he held a black leather cuff similar to the one he’d noticed her wearing the first night at the bar. But this one was thicker, and instead of lotuses, silver Celtic crosses adorned it. He blinked, battling back the sting of tears as he stared at the gorgeous piece created by her own hands and that paid homage to his heritage.

He cleared his throat, “Thank you” hovering on his tongue. Just as soon as he could squeeze it past his constricted throat.

But instead, when he parted his lips, “Stay with me” emerged.

He couldn’t tell who was more shocked, him or her. Though he craved nothing more than for her to choose him, he’d had no intentions of asking again, of pressuring her. But now that the plea echoed between them, he didn’t make excuses or play it off as a joke. He couldn’t. Not when he felt

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