Life was weird sometimes.
He carefully parked beside Ally’s truck, killed the engine, and was out of the car before Will had even unbuckled his seatbelt. The front door of the new house—the house that would become the inn’s main building, but for now was just his mom’s house—flew open before he reached the porch.
“Well?” Tara stood in the doorway, hands clasped together, practically vibrating.
Ryan held up the paper license.
Tara shrieked and threw her arms around him, laughing and crying at the same time, exactly as Will had predicted. Over her shoulder, Ryan could see the others gathered in the living room—Evan and Emily on the couch with baby Grace, Christina lowering herself into an armchair, and Ally emerging from the kitchen with a grin.
“Told you he’d pass,” Ally called out. “Pay up, Evan.”
“I never said he wouldn’t pass.” Evan was already reaching for his wallet. “I said he’d pass by a smaller margin.”
“Ninety-two percent,” Ryan said, unable to keep the pride out of his voice. “Missed one question on the written and lost points for taking the turn onto Main Street too wide.”
“Ninety-two is excellent.” Emily shifted Grace to her other arm so she could clap. “That’s better than Evan did.”
“Hey—”
“You failed the parallel parking twice.”
“The cones were too close together.”
Everyone laughed, and Ryan felt himself relax into the warmth of it. This. This was what he’d been missing after his mom died. People who teased each other, who showed up for the small moments, who cared whether he passed his driver’s test.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” Tara said, finally releasing him and wiping her eyes. “But first—presents.”
“You didn’t have to?—”
“Hush.” Tara steered him toward the living room. “Sit.”
He sat. Angus immediately appeared from wherever he’d been napping and pressed his brown head against Ryan’s knee, tail wagging. Ryan scratched behind his ears, the familiar gesture grounding him as Ally disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a wrapped box.
“This is from me.” She set it in his lap. “Open it.”
Inside was a dog car harness—heavy-duty canvas with padded straps and a seatbelt attachment. Ryan looked up at Ally, confused.
“So Angus can ride with you safely,” she explained. “I know you’re going to take him everywhere, and I don’t want him flying through the windshield if you have to brake suddenly. No offense.”
“None taken.” He ran his fingers over the harness, imagining Angus buckled into the passenger seat, ears flapping in the breeze from an open window. “This is perfect. Thank you.”
Evan handed over a heavy, flat package next. “From me and Emily. Not as exciting, but practical.”
Floor mats. Heavy rubber ones designed for mountain weather, with deep grooves to catch mud and snow. Ryan thought about the Outback’s current mats—threadbare carpet that had seen better days—and felt his throat tighten.
“These are great,” he managed. “Really.”
Christina waved from her armchair, not bothering to get up. “Mine’s in the kitchen. It’s not exactly portable.”
“Cake?” Ryan guessed.
“Chocolate cake. Three layers. Don’t let Evan eat it all before you get a piece.”
“That was one time,” Evan protested.
“You ate half of the cake at Christmas.”
“It was really good cake!”
