“Get out of the clouds, Em. If I see something cool, I’m going to put in an offer tonight. Is that okay? Or do you want to ask Bev for some more time off?”
“No, you pick. Honestly. Make sure it’s good for Tuck.”
Momentarily distracted by Price shirtless, in nothing but navy pajama pants, I drank him in. For a second, I bit my tongue, making sure this was real.
“You happy to be back at the bakery?”
“Yes,” I said with confidence. “I really am. Sheila decided not to come back full-time, which gives me more hours and responsibility. I love it.”
“Good, and the bar? You going to miss it?”
“Don’t start. You and my dad forced the issue. I have to do something else.”
On another kiss, he said, so close our lips were touching, “Well, I have some ideas on that.”
“Oh yeah, does it involve your cooking? I’m so sick of this stuck-up stuff.”
“In fact, it does,” he said, sitting back in the chair.
“Care to share?”
“Yeah, after I go to class and then find us a place to live. How ’bout we ditch these ritzy digs for the farm this weekend? My mom is crawling out of her skin wanting to meet you. She even said she’d make an apple pie.”
“Ha, funny. Sounds great, though. But is she okay with your dad and what happened with my mom? Are you sure she’s cool?”
“Yes. Stop.”
Price stood and pulled me up, fully kissing me, tongue and all, and smacked my butt before saying, “Wish me luck. I have a test this morning.”
“Luck,” I said, planting a kiss on his cheek.
He winked and was out the hotel door.
I hit the shower, excited to get to the bakery and try my hand at a new crème brûlée recipe with a hint of lemon. If it went well, we could sell it in individual ramekins.
My mind wandered as I lathered my body. This wasn’t at all what I thought would happen when I ran away from home, but it was turning out not half bad.
We drove up to Pennsylvania Saturday morning. Tuck got hair all over the expensive car, but Price was completely unconcerned with it.
“After we get a new place to live," he said, “I’m getting rid of the Tesla. We don’t even need it. I’ll give my dad the money back, but he’ll push it back on me. Guilt money.”
“Maybe it’s not. Maybe he genuinely wants to help you in the only way he can. I mean ... I never heard her side of the story, but it sounds like he tried to help Paula.”
Price nodded. “Then we’ll get a truck.”
I didn’t argue anymore. I knew better than anyone else that he’d have to come to terms with the situation on his own.
He had found a loft for us, and of course, refused to put in an offer until I saw it this morning before we left town. It was light and open, and located in a neighborhood way more suited for us. It would be good—the right choice, I hoped.
Price turned the Tesla off the highway and onto a long driveway, which ended at the coolest (and first) farmhouse I’d ever seen. Before we were even fully out of the car, an older couple came down the steps to meet us.
“Hi, Emerson, welcome! I’m Sarah.”
Price’s mom let out a squeal and pulled me in for a gigantic bear hug. I was lost in a sea of her limbs, my frame tiny next to her taller one, and I was lost in a jumble of emotions.
The words clogged in my throat, and I could barely get out, “Me too. It’s so nice to be here.”
“Mom, let Em breathe.” Price stole me back into his embrace, and I settled in the circle of his arm—willingly and happily.
