He clasped a hand to his chest. “Smug? No, baby. Never.Smartis the word you’re looking for.Perceptive.”
“What did youdo?”
“So suspicious, Everett. Always so suspicious. I just happened to make a bet with a guy I found on the side of theroad.”
“A bet? With me?” I thought back to that night and shook my head. “No. Although… I vaguely remember you saying nothing in O’Leary was like a psychological thriller, and we both know howthatturnedout.”
“If you'll recall, Ibet,” Si repeated, not paying attention to my interruption. “That you’d be calling O’Leary home by Halloween… and here youare.”
“Oh my God. So you’re saying you planned the whole damn thing,” I accused. “Really?”
He trailed a finger across my cheek and stared at me like I was the best and most important thing in theuniverse.
“You don’t plan for miracles, Everett Maior. You just hold onto them when they come.” He kissed me soft andgentle…
And my stomach grumbledunmistakably.
Silas threw his head back and laughed, not remotely upset that the monster in my stomach had spoiled our moment. “I will spend the rest of my life feeding you, won’t I?” He grinned. “Let’s have applecake.”
And so we did, curled around each other on the sofa, all dirty and disheveled, enjoying the messy, imperfect miracles that you find when you let yourselffall.
