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I lean against the wall and take in the picturesque moment.

“Then he had the audacity to ask what my name was.” Cruz scoffs and shakes her head disparagingly as everyone reacts. Her smirk grows before she calmly says, “He wasn’t smirking once I kicked the ball. I scored against him.”

Nadia hops up from the couch, her fist pumping in the air. “Yuss! That’s my sister.” The girls high five.

Holly finally notices me and gets up off the couch. I meet her halfway and wrap her up in my arms.

She hugs me back and buries her nose in my chest. “You clean up nice,” she mutters.

“I wasn’t going to ruin my chances of kissing you by staying sticky.”

She laughs and pulls away an inch. “I’m ready to go to bed. I want you to show me this house of yours. Your dad mentioned you helped build itand now I'm even more curious to see it.”

I wink. “As you wish.”

We give everyone hugs and wish them all goodnight. I grab Holly’s suitcase and carry it by the handle. The roller wheels are useless on the dirt path.

We hold hands, and Holly recaps Cruz’s story for me. There’s a soccer player on the men’s team she’s been butting heads with, and the two of us agree it sounds like they might have a crush on each other with how much they’re at each other’s throats.

We step up onto the porch and I put down her luggage before leaning over and picking up Holly, bridal style. I left the front door unlocked for this very purpose.

Holly yelps as she wraps her arms around my neck. “What are you doing?”

I can’t help it. Her face is so close to mine, so I give her a little peck on the lips. “Carrying my bride over the threshold.”

Her eyes go wide. “Mateo, we’re not that kind of married.”

I shrug, which jostles her up and down. “I know. But it feels right.”

Holly only lets me take about five steps before wiggling her way out of my arms. I drop her feet to the floor and take in the house as if it’s for the first time, trying to see it through Holly’s eyes.

I’m, of course, drawn to the wooden cabinets I helped build and install in the kitchen. I still love their dark stain and carved accents. Past the kitchen is the dining room and the herringbone-style table I spent a year making. The seats of the matching chairs have the same pattern which I love. In the living room across from the kitchen, my couch is positioned in front of the fireplace. On both sides of the mantel are built-in bookshelves, currently sparsely decorated. I need to get more books.

Holly steps into the living room first and runs her hand along the back of the couch. Her fingers tangle in the tassels of the throw blanket I’m pretty sure my mom left here because it wasn’t there when I left for California.Holly then walks to the dining room, her fingers skimming the backs of the chairs, before she stops at the table. She traces every line in the wood, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly parted.

“You made this?” Her voice is full of awe.

My body reacts to her unspoken praise, my shoulders straighten and my chest puffs out. “Yep. I spent a year finding the perfect wood. It took a few months of working after hours to piece it together and polish it up. It’s my favorite piece I’ve ever made.”

“As it should be. It’s gorgeous.” Her voice is tinted with awe, her eyes trained on the table as her fingers continue to trace every piece of the wooden structure.

My cheeks heat. “Thank you.”

She walks through the kitchen, fingers trailing across the counter, slowly inspecting everything. She stops next to me, my feet having rooted to the floor, thanks to my nerves. “It’s unbelievably cozy in here. I love the bookshelves by the fireplace. Is the rest of the house this pretty?”

I shrug. “I’ll let you decide.”

Holly slips her hand into mine and I lead her down the hallway, past the dining room. I open the door on our immediate left. “This is the laundry room and mudroom. That door leads outside. I usually come in through that door and leave my boots here instead of tracking dirt through the house.”

I close the mudroom door and step across the hall, opening the next door. “This is the guest room where I’ll be sleeping.” Holly nods and follows along, not saying a word, but not looking freaked out either. So far, so good.

“Next is my office.” I open the next door down the hall. “Though I work in the office at the farmhouse most days, I keep my records for my woodworking here, and will sometimes hide out here when I want space from the family.” I point to the corner where there’s a mat on the floor and a rack of free weights. “This doubles as my personal mini-gym.”

Holly walks to the weight set, but then looks up and notices the view from the window. My desk is up against the back wall and the window there has a perfect view of the orchard. She sits in my office chair and rests her chin on her hand as she inspects the tree line. The setting sun bathes her in golden light. She’s just as beautiful as the trees outside with their orange-tinted leaves that tease the beauty of fall, which will be here in two months.

“This office is perfect," she says. "You get the brightness of the sun during the day, but it won’t be in your face until evening.”

“Even then, it isn’t in your face until it sets. The trees give the window plenty of shade during the summer.”