Until he was kissing her. And once he was kissing her, holding her, everything fell into place. As long as he had her with him, things would be okay.
“I love you, Brock Watson,” she said between kisses.
“I love you, Emmy Lou King.” He kissed her again. “Always have. Always will.”
She pressed another kiss to his lips, then smacked his rear. “Now, go kick some ass.”
“Yes, ma’am.” But he kissed her again, for good luck.