Bluest Heart

“You remember that night behind the stable?”

She let out a small, throaty laugh. “Seems like forever ago, but yeah. Your hair was a lot longer then.”

“Yours, too.” He could remember it curtaining their faces, the tips of silky, red curls tickling his cheeks. Tracing the line of pearly buttons from the hem of her midnight blue blouse to the open neckline, he touched the teardrop-shaped pearl on the thin gold chain around her neck which reminded him of the moon that night. “You were my first.”

She lifted her gaze to his. Tenderness warred with uncertainty in the whiskey-colored depths. “Me, too.”

His heart pattered at the memory. “I always liked that about us.”

She nodded, frowning. “I was crazy about you.”

The tip of his thumb traced the bottom edge of her lip. “So why didn’t it last?”

She looked beyond him, remembering. “Because however much I wanted to be with you, I knew I would be leaving the first chance I got. I wasn’t going to let anything or anyone stand in my way.”

“You figured I would?”

“Casey, we were so young,” she told him. “Who knows what you or I would’ve done?”

He paused, running a hand over her hair. “Just for the record,” he murmured, lips brushing her cheek, “I would’ve let you go.”

She sighed, reaching up to clutch his upper arm. The muscle under her hand and his sleeve warmed. “Why hasn’t anyone snatched you up yet?”

“Because you’re the only one I ever wanted, Josie,” he told her, cupping her chin in his hand to look her in the eyes as he said it. “The only one.”