“That too.”
She threaded her fingers through the short hair at the back of my head, her expression serious. “I love you, you know. And I need you to come back to me.”
I swallowed hard, knowing I’d do every fucking thing in my power to do just that. To return home to her. To marry her and have babies with her and grow old with her. “I love you too, Kenna.”
It’d taken us too damn long to get there, but sometimes the best things took a little extra time. And if I got her when it was all said and done, I didn’t care what sort of winding, convoluted path I had to travel if she was waiting for me at the end.
“So, we’re really doin’ this?” I asked.
She wrapped her arms tighter around me and held me to her as if she never wanted to let me go. “Looks like.”
I hummed against her mouth, unable to stop myself from tasting her again. When we finally came up for air, I pressed myforehead to hers and closed my eyes. “Does that mean you’re gonna be at the cabin waitin’ for me, just like we planned?”
She hummed, and I met her gaze, finding her watching me with every ounce of love I felt for her reflected back at me. “I guess you’re just gonna have to show up and find out.”
Oh, I would.
Just like I told myself all those years ago, Kenna was it for me. And come hell or high water, I’d be coming back to her.
EPILOGUE
MAC
The last placeI should’ve been headed to was the cabin. Havenbrook was in mourning, the lives of two beloved residents stolen too soon. And Nat needed all the support she could get as she tried to help her best friend navigate his new normal that was nothing he could have possibly planned for.
But even as mayor, I couldn’t do much besides offer emotional support. And Nat had sent me—shovedme—away, saying I was smothering her and to back the fuck off. Ah, sisterly love.
I didn’t know how long she would be home to support Asher, but I’d take every second of it I could get—my sisters and I hadn’t all been in the same place for more than a handful of days at a time for years.
Muscle memory had me driving my Jeep down the winding roads without conscious thought, allowing my mind to wander. Hudson and I hadn’t missed talking in some form for a single day since he’d left Havenbrook. And we’d both been right—itwashard. But we were crushing it because we were too bullheaded to do anything else.
What had been a surprise for me was that thehardwasn’t necessarily the distance. It was the wondering and worrying.It was the disappointments when orders were given and plans were changed, and suddenly our scheduled reunion, ten years in the making, couldn’t happen. At least, not for another several months.
With a sigh, I pulled into the gravel driveway in front of the cabin that had held so many memories for the two of us. Even if Hudson couldn’t be with me tonight on his birthday like we’d planned all those years ago, I’d wanted to be here because this was where I felt closest to him.
Where before, I’d avoided this place at every turn because of the memories it held, now I came as often as I was able to, specifically for that reason. Lilah and Marianne had all but given me free rein to come and go as I pleased, and I abused that as often as my demanding job allowed me to.
A demanding job I actually sort of loved.
I wouldn’t lie and say it’d been easy—I couldn’t step into a role that had been filled by men the entirety of Havenbrook’s existence without it being difficult. But I’d proven myself—the election we’d held to replace my daddy had demonstrated as much when I’d won by a landslide.
There were still the male elders to deal with, but I didn’t back down from them anymore. I was there to get shit done, and they could either get on board or get the hell out of my way.
“All right, CB. You ready?” I asked my favorite canine, reaching out to scratch behind CB’s ears. She was a lot tinier than Hudson—and a lot hairier—but at least I had a bed partner to keep me company when the nights got too lonely without him.
The dog jumped across the center console and straight into my lap, her tail wagging and tongue lolling. She loved coming out to the cabin almost as much as I did.
The two of us stepped out of the Jeep, and I breathed in the fresh spring air. Flowers sprouted up in the gardens I had weeded last weekend, and the hammock strung up between twoblooming trees called my name. I grabbed the bags from the back seat—one of these days, I’d just leave our stuff at the cabin so I didn’t need to pack something each time—and slammed the car door shut.
I stepped up to the cabin, fumbling with my keys as I tried to balance CB’s and my bags—that spoiled dog traveled with more items than I did. A package on the doorstep caught my eye, and I furrowed my brow. Not much mail showed up here, and even fewer packages—as in none. I dropped the bags on the porch and bent to pick up the box, seeing my name across the label in Hudson’s unmistakable handwriting, and excitement shot through me.
Unable to wait another second, I ripped open the tape and lifted the flaps, finding a pile of pink Starbursts surrounding a small, square box. I breathed out a laugh, shaking my head. Tucked along the side was a note.
I found this at a tiny store in Germany nine years ago. It’s the only one I never mailed to you because I needed it with me. It doesn’t compare to the real thing, but it’s the exact shade of your eyes, and it made me feel close to you even when we weren’t.
I lifted the lid on the box, finding a marble inside. And Hudson was right—it was the exact color of my eyes.
“Just like Hud to one up me, sendingmea gift onhisbirthday,” I mumbled to no one.
