“I win, Badger Boy,” She taunts.
But she’s wrong. I win.
And it’s all because I have her.
“I love you.”
It just slips out. And it does the trick. Because now, I have her attention.
Her eyes open, wide and shiny, and she props her chin up on my chest like she’s trying to gauge if I’m serious.
I am.
Dead serious.
Because this thing between us? It’s not temporary. It’s not a dating app fling or a magical misunderstanding.
It’s fate.
And for once in my life, I’m not running from it.
“I love you, Marigold,” I repeat, softer now.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Even more than I love honey. Which is saying something.”
She laughs.
It’s wet and wobbly and perfect.
“Are you comparing me to a pantry staple right now?”
I grin.
“You’re not just any pantry staple. You’re the crown jewel. The top shelf, organic, infused with gold flakes kind. My forever Honey.”
“Oh my God,” she groans, flopping onto her back beside me. “You’re such a dork.”
“Guilty.” I roll toward her, tugging her close again. “But I’m your dork.”
She stares at me. A long, quiet beat.
“Good, because I love you too.”
Then she leans in and kisses me, soft and slow and full of everything I’ve ever wanted.
And just like that, I know I’m never letting her go.
Chapter 25
Marigold
I shuffle into Eb’s enormous kitchen wearing nothing but one of his flannel shirts—dark green and soft as a cloud, with the sleeves rolled up past my elbows.
It hangs past mid-thigh and smells like him.
Like warm forests and cinnamon and something just a little wild.
