I tipped my face up toward him, my smile small but full.“Better.”
He kissed me again, unhurried, right there in front of everyone, and I didn’t care who saw.Every moment with him tonight felt like more than the one before.Not an apology.Not a distraction.Just Brody, claiming space in my life the way he’d always fit there, only now we were both brave enough to admit it.
I caught Adam’s smirk from the fire pit with Chase, but even he didn’t tease.Chase gave me a soft smile and a subtle nod.Clara leaned her head against Mason’s shoulder, watching with a grin that said she could already see how this chapter of my life would be for me.And for the first time in what felt like forever, I let myself truly settle into this possibility: joy without fear.
Contentment didn’t feel like settling.It felt like safety.It felt like home.And sitting there in the middle of my own celebration, Brody wrapped around me; it felt like the beginning of the rest of everything.
Chapter 46
The weeks slipped past in a blur, each one brighter than the last.
Clara and Mason’s offer had gone through.They were moving into their first real home together, and Clara practically glowed every time she talked about it.While it wasn’t the first house they purchased together, Clara had always said that one never felt like a home and when she walked into this one, she knew right away it was perfect.The housewarming was already on the calendar.Their joy was contagious; it seemed as though the air around them hummed.
The whispers in town had shifted as well.Not about me, not about Andrew.About my book.People were already talking, asking questions, speculating.Marin and my publisher were ecstatic, pushing for an early fall release, a whirlwind of PR and a few select signings.The dreaded wordsbook tourcame up more than once.I’d smiled and nodded, stomach in knots, but inside… part of me was proud.Excited.The other part?Terrified.
And Brody.
We weregood.No...better than good.We were steady, laughing, and kissing until I felt dizzy.But we still hadn’t gone further, and the ache of wanting him only grew more intense with time.It wasn’t that I doubted him, or us.It was that I was ready.I was sure.And I needed him to know that.
So, I planned a night.
The maple tree had seen centuries.Tonight, it was going to see me lay my heart bare.
I’d been planning this since the three words slipped past my lips, since our first fight and our first make-up.Each sticky August night I’d imagined it, rehearsed what I’d say, second-guessed what I’d wear, what I’d do.I was done waiting, done hiding.And if love was the slow-burning fire Brody Palmer had promised me, tonight was the night I poured myself into the flames.
I got there early, tent already staked in the meadow’s soft grass.I marked out spaces like I was showing a client blueprints: a fire pit ringed in stones, with sticks already gathered; a rough circle where my library-slash-office would stand one day, with windows catching the morning light; the slope where an outdoor kitchen and patio could hold summer nights full of laughter.I marked the spot where his workshop might rise close to his parents' property line and his dad's old barn.And right where the tent sat now, pressed flat into the earth like a promise, I imagined our bedroom.
Ourroom.
The idea made me dream in ways I hadn’t let myself before.
Because this didn't feel like some wild fairytale dream, this felt real.
By the time I struck a match and coaxed the fire alive, my nerves were electric.Sparks drifted upward, and I let myself daydream: mornings tangled in sheets with him, coffee mugs on the porch railing; Brody sanding wood in the shop while I scrawled in the margins of some draft in my office which also had a line of site to his shop: little feet thumping across floorboards someday, a laugh that sounded like both of us carried on the wind.
I shook my head, smiling to myself as the fire caught.
“Planning the rest of our lives without me, Morgan?”
I spun, breath hitching.He stood just beyond the glow, tall and sure, the evening breeze playing with his hair.His grin was half-tease, half-something deeper.My heart swelled.
“Maybe,” I said, voice steadier than I felt.“Come here.I want to show you.”
I took his hand and led him through the meadow like I’d drawn it up myself.“Here’s where my library goes.Big windows.Stacks and stacks of books.Over there, the kitchen.You’ll cook, I’ll drink, we’ll argue about who gets the last glass of wine...but we will end up sharing it anyway.”He chuckled low, the sound sinking into my bones.
I pointed to the slope where the barn stood in the distance.“Your shop.I figure it’s only fair, since I’ll be your first client.”
“And right here...”I tugged him toward the tent and planted my bare feet firmly in the grass, “This could be the primary bedroom...ourbedroom.”
Something flickered across his face, the fire catching in his eyes.He looked at me like he was trying to memorize this moment.
“Cassidy...”
I cut him off before nerves made me choke.“I love you, Brody.You were right.About us.About this.”
His mouth parted, stunned.Then he stepped closer, his hand lifting like it was drawn.“You love me,” he said, reverent, like he needed to taste the words.
“I do,” I whispered.
