Promise Me a Forever Texas Love (Honky Tonk Heaven #3)

Prologue

He knew he’d find her here.

Just like he knew he’d find her crying.

She had never liked to cry in front of people.

Probably because she’d grown up with two older brothers who loved teasing her about being a baby.

When she’d fallen off her bike and skinned both knees and the palms of her hands, she hadn’t shed one tear.

Or when she’d broken her arm falling off the monkey bars. Or when her precious cat had died.

But this time it wasn’t a cat that had died.

“Hey, Catydid.” He spoke softly so as not to startle her.

She buried her face in the old sleeping bag that covered the blowup mattress that had more patches than a patchwork quilt. “Go a-way, Hu-ck. I want to be a-lone.”

The hurt in her voice made his heart ache. Of course, his heart had ached for Cadee Stockton for the last five years. Something he’d hidden as well as she hid her tears.

“Sorry, Catydid, but this happens to be my tree house.”

“Boat.” The word was muffled in the thick fibers of the sleeping bag, but he still heard it.

He smiled. “I believe it was you who said it’s just a tree house with a boat wheel.”

She took a deep quivery breath before she released it. “You’re not leaving, are you?”

“Nope.” He toed off his boots and joined her on the mattress, the displaced air causing her to rise and fall like a raft on a turbulent sea before she settled against his side.

There was a time when they would have stayed glued together like two slices of bread in a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

But after “The Kiss” at thirteen, things changed.

Now, at eighteen, maintaining a safe distance was second nature.

She scooted back to her side of the mattress while he shifted and tucked his hands behind his head.

This late in January, the branches of the huge oak were bare of leaves so he could see more of the night sky. Trying to distract her, he picked out a star.

“Starlight, star bright, first star I see tonight. Wish I may, wish I might . . . have the wish I wish tonight.”

Cadee sniffed. “That’s not how it works, Huckleberry, and you know it.”

He did, but he kept his gaze on the starry sky . . . even though he wanted nothing more than to turn and look into her breathtaking blue eyes that had always reminded him of the robin eggs he’d once discovered in a nest in this very tree.

“So how does it work?” he asked.

“You can only wish on the first star that appears in the sky. You can’t just pick one out.”

“Why not? It’s the first one I saw.”

“It’s not the same. The first one to appear after dark is the wishing star.”

“I don’t agree. All stars have the power to grant a wish. That’s why they’re stars. Otherwise, they’d be rocks.”

“Rocks?” She laughed and he smiled. There was nothing that he loved more than his Cadee’s laugh. “I swear you have lost your mind, Huck.”

He shrugged. “Most folks think so.”

There was a long pause, and he could feel her gaze on him. “So what did you wish for?”

He hesitated for only a moment before he spoke.

“That your daddy was still alive.” He glanced over then to find tears brimming in her eyes, turning them into twin oceans of pain.

For so long, he’d kept his distance, knowing that touching her would break the strong barrier they’d built between them.

But now she needed comforting and there was no way he could deny her.

“Come here, Catydid.” He drew her into his arms like he’d dreamed about doing ever since they’d kissed. Her arm came around his waist, and she nestled against his chest like it was the only place she wanted to be.

She cried.

And he cried.

Then they slept . . . until they woke and everything changed forever.