He leaned in closer to her, so close that his black suede cowboy hat brushed her hair. The proximity between them made her heart race and her breath catch.

Harley had to blink away a few tears. She watched Dusty as he slowly raised his hand to her face, and from her cheek he ran his fingers through her red hair. "I'm sorry."

For a moment, he forgot they were at a concert, his concert, forgot an entire crowd was watching, and forgot about the world. For that one moment, he'd lost himself. Lost himself, in her green eyes.

He bent down to meet her lips, but stopped himself. Right now, in front of everyone, it was probably the worst idea to kiss her. She saw him flex his jaw and yet he let his eyes glide over her face.

Remembering he still had a hell of a show to put on for his fans, he whispered in her ear. "Later on after the show, come backstage. I'll wait for you."

She nodded up at him and smiled. "Okay."

He poked her nose with his slim index finger. "Alrighty then."

Trying hard to resist the urge to kiss her, and the need to feel her lips against his, he sighed. When he looked around, he caught Ernest's gaze he thought maybe he'd turned pale, but to his surprise, the older man smiled at him. It was a fatherly smile, and it struck him somewhere deep, somewhere he couldn't quite identify.

He still had her hand in his, he realized, and he ran his thumb across her knuckle. After a moment or two, he raised her hand to his lips.

"See ya," she said to him. Her eyes had gone a dark shade of green, the kind of green the leaves turned in early summer.

Dusty nodded to her. "Let's do it." He turned from her then, and got back up onto the stage.

With a smile, she watched him pick up his guitar and hook on the strap. He took his time walking over to the microphone, and his hips swayed from side to side.

Harley watched him walk, her eyes fixed on his hips. She felt her stomach roll over, and it surprised her how much she wanted him right now. After a long moment she took a deep breath and found her seat, again. Her brothers watched her as her eyes were on the man she loved. Each of them smiled, but in their own time.

Dusty pulled the microphone from its stand. "How y'all doing tonight?" he asked the crowd with more energy than he'd ever felt before in his life.

-0-

Dusty was backstage, staring out of the window and watching cars pass by on the street below. He had been so deep in thought that he hadn't noticed Harley come up from behind.

She looked around a bit, before she noticed him. There was band equipment everywhere, set-ups that were taken apart, and it was a little dark. Few lights were still on, and they were almost standing in the corner or the big backstage room.

"Wyatt," she finally said, catching is attention.

In the window he saw her reflection. She looked so brave, so lovely, and her hair looked that burgundy like it did when he met her. The darkness enveloped them, to the point where the Vegas strip lights were almost the only source of light in the wide open room.

He turned to her and away from the window, feeling quite nervous. As if on impulse, he took off his cowboy hat and strands of hair fell onto his tan forehead. "I wanted to apologize."

She gave him a shy look. "Shouldn't I be the one apologizing? I didn't even give you a chance to explain yourself. I'm sorry I slapped you."

He shrugged his shoulders lightly. "It's not like I blame you much. Thinking what you thought, I would have done the same thing. I deserved to get slapped with all that happened. I should have just told you from the beginning. I wanted to talk to you that day at the rodeo." His emerald green eyes met hers. There was a look of pain in his eyes, and she stayed quiet. "If I had, you wouldn't have gotten hurt."

He noticed the way she looked away, and he knew then that she was holding back tears. He'd hurt her, and that made him feel the lowest of low. He was trying to fix things now, but he wondered if it was possible.

All he wanted to do was pull her into his arms and hold her, but he didn't. He thought she would have pushed him away if he had. Her beautiful red hair fell across her shoulders, making her skin look so pale. Her black dress fit to her like a glove, black against her porcelain skin. He inwardly groaned, and his heart rate picked up.

"I was just afraid…" his voice trailed off.

"Afraid of what?" she asked, genuinely curious.

He stuck his hands in his pockets. "I've never had the time to find someone out there that loves me, and that I can love back, my life's always been about music. It's been that way ever since I can remember. Being away from home, on tour for most of the year, I've never had time for love. I finally slowed down for a moment, and…" He stopped talking and swallowed his words.

She took a little brave step closer to the man. "And what?" She wanted him to open up to her but he was stubborn as all get out, like all cowboys are.

His expression softened when she reached out and touched his arm. "I realized that maybe I want someone to love me as much as I love them. Harley, since I met you, I wanna make time for both. I want someone to love me. I want a family. A home. I want children." Dusty"s southern drawl was ever present beneath his wavering and soft voice. His smile was warm, and under his gaze she'd blushed before and now she blushed, again. His smile grew wider at the way her cheeks reddened.

"Is that what you'd want?" he asked boldly. "Taking the time for love, I mean. The time for a life together." He raised his eyebrows at her.

She blinked and looked up at him. After a moment and some short-circuiting, she sort of remembered how to talk. "Do you really have to ask?" Her voice was softer than usual. She watched him take a step towards her. He was so much taller than her that it almost hurt her to meet his eyes.

"I would never hurt you, again," he drawled as he touched her chin. She looked up at him as he continued to speak. "If you give me a chance, that is." His eyes memorized her every feature, drinking her in. He wanted to remember this moment forever, no matter what happened.

They stared at each other for a long moment, until she finally spoke. "That'd be nice."

The corner of his mouth quirked upward, into a smile, and into his signature side-smile. His teeth were so white.

Dusty put his hand down. But to his surprise, she tangled her fingers within his. It took him a moment to register what she'd done, and he looked down at their hands. His expression went mellow, and he smirked.

In that moment he began to drown in the love he felt for her and he was overcome, as if he was treading for his life. He pulled her against him, with a tenderness that hit her with a pang. Her slender body fit against his, perfectly. Dusty's hand found her cheek and he rubbed it softly.

Harley's eyes met his, and the way she looked at him nearly made his heart stop pumping.