“Speaking of that demand…” Atlas said, raising a brow at Lincoln, who just gave one firm shake of his head.
I wasn’t sure what that was all about. Wasn’t sure I cared. Not when this feeling of warmth and belonging had settled so deep in my bones.
This family was pure chaos. A full-blown circus with a swear jar as the main sponsor.
And I loved every single second of it. Loved every single one of them.
I couldn’t deny it any longer—I wasn’t pretending anymore. Wasn’t faking a smile or bracing for the next slip or worryingabout how I’d explain myself when the truth finally came to light.
Because thiswasthe truth.
Me, here with Lincoln in the moment—his warm hand on my knee, his pinkie brushing mine every time he reached for his fork. With the people who’d stopped seeing me as a guest and started seeing me as theirs.
This was everything I’d never let myself want. And somehow, I had it.
My phone buzzed on the table, breaking me out of my thoughts, and I glanced down to see a text lighting up the screen.
Bernice:
You’ll want to get home. We have company.
My entire body stilled. Well, everything but my heart. That surged in my chest, racing like it knew something I didn’t. The only people in Starlight Cove who would drive all the way out to the farm on a Sunday evening were all seated at this table.
Everyone except one person.
Lincoln leaned in, bumping his shoulder with mine. “Everything okay?”
I turned the screen toward him. “It’s Bernice. She says there’s company.”
His brow lifted as he darted his gaze between my eyes, seeming to read my mind from my expression alone. “Harper?”
Hope bloomed quick and sharp inside me, and my stomach swooped. “You think they could’ve made a decision this fast?”
A smile swept over his mouth, slow like molasses, until his dimples were deep grooves in his cheeks. He gave me a look so smug I wanted to kiss it off him. “I don’t know, wife. We nailed that interview pretty hard.”
The unspokenand that wasn’t the only thing that was nailed hardwas clear in his tone. I must’ve been punch-drunk on anticipatory hope, because I didn’t even try to hold in my snort.
“Time for charades!” Emma yelled, bouncing on her toes.
“Sorry, little bean.” Lincoln stood and held out his hand to me. “Aunt Willa and I have to get home. Someone’s there to see us.”
There was a chorus of goodbyes, a muttered demand from Declan that Lincoln swing by the bar later to pick up something he’d been working on, and then we were out the door, my heart in my throat and hope a wild thing raging inside me that I didn’t even try to tamp down.
I was still smilingwhen we pulled to a stop in front of the farmhouse. I hadn’t been able tostopsmiling—not since the second Lincoln had voiced the thought I couldn’t bring myself to say aloud.
This moment might be it—the culmination of all our hard work. The grant, come to fruition.
I tried not to think about what that would mean for Lincoln and me. Tried not to read into the ticking clock that had only ever been counting down. If I could pin my hopes on this grant, I could do the same for us too.
Except when I glanced to the front porch, expecting to see a blonde bombshell waiting, my stomach bottomed out at the sight that actually greeted me. It wasn’t Harper.
It was my brother.
In between a chatting Bernice and Pearl, Beau sat in one of the porch chairs, tea in hand, nodding at whatever the olderladies were talking his ear off about. But his gaze was locked on me through the windshield, unwavering.
I stopped breathing, my nerves caught somewhere between fight, flight, and fawn, not sure what the best path of action was.
Lincoln sensed the change in the air immediately and reached out, cupping a hand on my thigh. “Hellcat? What’s up?”
