Jamie laughed. “So you want a do-over, huh? Chicken Wing Death Match, Part Deux?” He raised one eyebrow.
“Yep. And the winner gets to name our bar.”
“Oh ho. That confident? Alrighty, then. Let’s raise the stakes. Winner gets to name the bar, and the loser”—Jamie rubbed the inside of his cheek with his tongue—“gets on his knees.”
I laughed. “That sounds like the kind of challenge I win either way.”
“Which makes it the best kind of challenge,” Jamie agreed.
“I’m still gonna win,” I insisted. “Only now you’ll be going downliterally.” I snorted at my own joke. “See what I did there?”
“Oh, I see,” Jamie said dryly. “You’re delusional.” He grabbed both of my hands and laced our fingers together, then drew my hands up to his lips so he could kiss them one at a time. His eyes were like melted chocolate in the dim light as he gazed down at me lovingly. “But it’s cute.”
“You sound scared, Jameson!”
“Of your chicken wings?” he scoffed. “Not even a little. Of other stuff…” He glanced up at the wide-open sky. “Maybe a little. That I’m gonna fuck things up again. That I’m gonna forget to talk. That I’m gonna require do-overs for things that don’t involve chicken.”
“Me too,” I admitted. “But it’s a shit-ton easier being scaredwithyou than it was being scaredwithoutyou. And that’s one thing I promise I’m never gonna forget again.”
Chapter Fourteen
Jamie
The roadto O’Leary was long and winding—the kind of road that prevented outsiders from getting in, and insiders from getting out… especially in snowstorms. There were times, when the weather was perfect and the sun was shining down through the trees, that the Camden Road seemed like the doorway to a beautiful, enchanted land.
Today was not one of those days.
The windshield wipers on Parker’s little Prius were going as fast as they could, but they could barely keep up with the heavy March rain that poured down on us as we made our way home from the airport.
“I’ll say one thing about Arizona,” I said, as I adjusted the blower for the seventh time. “It was dry.”
“Eh.” Parker shrugged. “I missed the humidity.”
I glanced over at him. “You miss the weirdest things, Parks.”
Parker picked my hand up off the steering wheel and brought it to his lips for a quick kiss. “I know,” he said, and when he smiled at me, I couldn’t help but laugh.
He kept holding my hand as we drove down Weaver Street, and while it sounded ridiculous even in my own head to say that his hand in mine improved the view, it kinda did. And for once I didn’t mind being ridiculous. I even kinda wished the weather were better so that people could see us driving through town.
Yeah, that’s right, IwantedO’Leary up in my business. I wanted them to know Parker Hoffstraeder and I were together. That we were in love. Because Ibelieved—truly believed—that it would last forever, not because it felt right, even though it did, or because I believed in fate, although I was starting to, or even because I thought I deserved him, because I didn’t, but because I knew I’d be willing to do the work to make sure it lasted. And so would the man beside me.
“Oh, hey!” I pulled my hand away from his and fished in the pocket of my sweatshirt. “Got you a present.”
“You did?” he demanded. “How? We spent all day yesterday with my mother, so she could try to get back in your good graces—”
“I don’t think it’smygood graces she cared about,Parkie-kins.”
“Shut up,” he said, whacking me lightly on the arm. “She knows she needs to get in your good graces if she wants to get in mine. And you enjoyed the snickerdoodles.”
“True,” I admitted. I’d enjoyed watching Beatrice try to be polite to me even more. It had been worth the extra day delay in getting home.
Almost.
“So where’d you have a chance to get the present?”
“Airport gift shop. I wanted you to have an Arizona memento to add to your box.” I pressed a tiny wooden magnet into his hand. “Something to add to… whatever else you’ve got in there now. All your little Boston treasures.”
“Oh my God.”
