“I don't know what to say. This summer hasn't turned out at all the way I'd planned. I'm not supposed to be standing in the middle of a barn with a blue-eyed cowboy who's looking at me like he's about to kiss me. I shouldn't be wanting him to kiss me.”

“Tuck," I breathe, and then he kisses me.I've been kissed before. But nothing like this. He kisses me with surprising tenderness, for all of his gusty talk. Still cupping my face, he gently brushes his lips against mine, slowly, like he's memorizing what I feel like. My eyes close. My head swims with his smell, grass and sunshine and musky cologne. He kisses me again, a litte more firmly, and then he pulls back to look down into my face.”

“What did the fish say when it hit a concrete wall?" he asks me. We're sitting on the bank of a stream and he's tying a fly onto my fishing rod, wearing a cowboy hat and a red lumberjack-style flannel shirt over a gray tee. So adorable."What?" I say, wanting to laugh and he hasn't even told me the punch line.He grins. Unbelievable how gorgeous he is. And that he's mine. He loves me and I love him and how rare and beautiful is that?"Dam!" he says.”

“It wasn't you're fault," I whisper. And then out of self-protection more than anything else, I bring the glory. I don't warn him or anything. I don't damp it down. I bring it. The room fills with light."This is what I am," I say, my hair ablaze around my head.He squints at me. his jaw juts out a little in pure stubbornness. He stands his ground"I know," he says.I take a step towards him, close the space between us, put my glowing hand against his cheek. He starts to tremble. "This is what I am," I say again and my wings are out now.His knees wobble, but he fights it. He puts his hand at my waist, turns me, pulls me closer, which surprises me."I can accept that," he whispers, and holds his breath, and leans in to kiss meHis lips brush mine for an instant, and an emotion like victory tears through him, but he pulls away and glances at the front door. Groans.Christian is standing in the doorway."Wow," Tucker says, trying to grin. "You really know how to cramp a guy's style."His legs give out. He falls to his knees.My light blinks off.”

“As if the daytime wasn't bad enough, I dream about him. Every night for three nights in a row. I can't get out of that moment when I was in his head, feeling what he felt, hearing his thoughts as he kissed me. I can feel him loving me. And it kills me, that moment when I feel his love shift into fear.”

“I love how he sometimes gets embarrassed by the mushy stuff between us and then his voice gets all gruff and he tickles me or kisses me to shut us both up. Boy, do we ever kiss. We make out like champions.”

“I can't leave you," he says hoarsely."I can't leave you either," I say, shaking my head. "I can't.""Then don't," he says, and grabs me behind the neck and kisses me again, and the world is tilting, and everything goes black.”