When she’d already seen him that way.

“Probably not now, asshole,” he said into the empty room.

No, probably not now.

And he couldn’t blame her.

But he had to ask. He had to try. He had to beg forgiveness.

He had to tell her he loved her.

And damn the consequences.

Order meant nothing without her, control meant nothing without her. And the only acceptance that mattered was hers.

He shoved the Jack Daniel’s bottle back into its place in the cupboard and walked out of his house. He strode toward the B and B, his heart in his throat, his hands honest-to-God shaking. Everything in him was shaking.

He’d never loved anyone. And he’d never asked anyone to love him back.

He’d tried to earn it, every day. But he’d never asked.

Today he had to ask.

He walked across the driveway and into the clearing in front of her house, and saw her car, the back door open, suitcases inside.

“What the hell?”

Just then, Sadie came down the stairs, a couple of pine needles stuck in her hair, tears on her cheeks, her face pale. Her eyes widened and she froze, staring at him like he was some kind of ghost. He walked toward her.

She was packed. She was leaving.

She was leaving him.

Hell no.

He reached out and wrapped his arm around her waist, tugging her to him, his lips crashing down on hers. He tried to make her feel what he did. To understand what he’d just started to understand. That he loved her. That she’d changed him.

She clung to him, grabbing his T-shirt and holding it tight, holding him tight.

When they parted, they were both breathing hard, and her cheeks were wet, tears tracking down her pale skin.

“Don’t leave me,” he said, his tone a command. “Don’t go.”

“Eli...”

“I am an idiot. You are distracting. And you did change things. But dammit, Sadie, I want to be distracted by you. I want to be changed by you. Hell, baby, I need it. And I was just about to drink a whole bottle of liquor to try to forget how much of an ass I am. But then I saw my counter.”

“Your counter?”

“It’s clean. Your shoes aren’t sitting on it. Everything’s in order. Everything. You’re not there saying some...sexual innuendo I barely understand, and you know what? I hate it. I hate the order if it means I can’t have you. I love you, Sadie.”

“I’m not leaving,” she said, her voice trembling.

“Then why are you packed?”

“Because. Because I was going to leave but I went and did some thinking. And now I’m not,” she said.

“Why?” he asked.

“You know...it’s hard to say. Because leaving is what I do. And even when I knew I would miss you like hell it seemed easier than this. Easier than standing in front of you and telling you I want more. But I’m going to do it anyway. I went back to my clearing. It was where I used to go when things got to be too much. When I needed to escape. But I didn’t find oblivion there. I found you instead. And whatever power there was in escape, whatever I used to enjoy about it...it was gone. I don’t want to run anymore. I want to stand and fight. I want to stay. I want more. Because I want you. I want everything. Good and bad and stick up your ass. I love you and I want to fight for that love like I’ve never fought for anything.”

He felt like he’d been punched in the chest. It was one thing to confess his love to her, but he didn’t think for a damn minute he deserved to have it returned. Not after the things he’d said to her.

“How can you love me?” he asked. “I failed you.”

“That’s the thing, though, Eli, you didn’t. I wished that someone would have stepped in and saved me. Of course I did. And I think...it was easy to wish it had been you. But what I really needed was to save myself.”

“You did, Sadie,” he said, his chest tightening. “You left.”

She shook her head. “No. That’s not when I saved myself. That’s when I learned to run. Which is the first step sometimes. But I realized something today, when I was ready to leave this place, to leave you. I realized it’s not enough to have a life. You have to have all of life. And I haven’t let myself do that.”

“Sadie...” His throat closed up. “I haven’t, either. I wanted to believe that I could control things. That somehow I could stop bad things from happening. But the problem with that is that...I can’t. I thought if I could, if I got things in order... But it’s not in my power. And admitting that is one of the scariest damn things I can think of because control is everything to me. Being the one taking care of things is everything to me. So that...” He felt like an ass even thinking this, much less admitting it. But it was time to say it. And it was time to let it go. “People leave me, Sadie. I thought someday I’d make myself so important it wouldn’t happen again.”

“Well—” Sadie wiped the tears from her cheeks and smiled “—Eli Garrett, future sheriff of Copper Ridge, you have made yourself so important to me that this woman, who always has her running shoes on hand, can’t leave you.”

* * *

Sadie looked up at Eli, at the deep concern in his dark eyes, at the sincerity. And the insecurity. And any remaining walls around her heart crumbled completely.

She threw her arms around his neck and held him close, stroking her fingers through his hair. “You’re the best reason in the world to stop running. And you don’t have to work to get me to stay. I’m offering to. Because you’re the best man there is. And anyone who made you feel like less deserves to be dragged behind a horse.”

“I love you, Sadie. More than a clean house, more than stability. If you kept running, I’d run after you. Even if I had to leave all this behind. Because it doesn’t mean a thing without you. And I’m sorry. Sorry for all the crap I said to you. Everything I put us through. I couldn’t run, so I guess the best I could do was try to make you run. Because you scare the hell out of me, woman. But I’m even more scared of living without you.”

A tear rolled down Sadie’s cheek, emotion filling her, so full she thought she might break with it. “Then it’s a good thing I’m staying.”

“Oh, hell, does this mean I’m part of the bed-and-breakfast?”

“Only if you spend the night.”

“Yeah,” he said, “about that... Do you think you could run it if you mainly slept at my place?”

“Mainly?”

“Always.”

“I have a cat,” she reminded him. “And he sleeps indoors. He basically lives indoors.”

“I will give him his own bedroom.”