“Well, I earned you a great deal of that seed money,” I reminded him.
“But the clever investments were all mine.”
“True.” Still, he was right; it felt good to know that I didn’t live on the ragged edge of disaster anymore. I had a safety net now—one I could trust—and Chance wanted me to marry him.
The wind swept over the agave blossoms, rippling the petals. Musky sweetness filled the air as Chance bent his head to kiss me. He tasted of sangria and summer, of past and future intertwined. I responded with all the love, all the passion in my soul. Maybe the future Twila had shown me would come to pass. Maybe not. Foretellings were mutable, written in water.
Life lay before us like the valley below—indistinct, wreathed in shadow, but dreamy with promise.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Ann Aguirre is a national bestselling author with a degree in English Literature; before she began writing full time, she was a clown, a clerk, a voice actress, and a savior of stray kittens, not necessarily in that order. She grew up in a yellow house across from a cornfield, but now she lives in sunny Mexico with her husband, children, two cats, and one lazy dog.
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