Stone Circle You're my favorite book

“I could be into legless, scarred guys,” comes the tease as she settles her head on an arm to admire him. With her eyes she traces the cut of his jaw and the fullness of his face, lifting again to see how his eyes glint with humor. That playfulness, she thinks, she loves most.

Love.

Her insecure self had guessed nothing as heated as what she and Fig had could go on indefinitely; that he would tire of the valley and return to the East. She hoped one day they might all go to see his family. All five of them.

But for now, she wanted just the two of them. Just the simplicity of this.

“It’s nice,” she whispers, “not doing this alone. I thought I could. But I don’t want to.”