Four years ago, I’d been terrified of being convenient. Of being the small-town girl nobody really saw. Of ending up as someone’s forgettable snowstorm fling.
And then Mason had looked at his friends, jaw set, and said,This is Gabby. My girlfriend. You’re going to be respectful.
He’d never stopped. Not once in four years. He saw me—really saw me—every single day.
“Hey.” Mason’s voice pulled me back. He was watching me with that knowing look—the one that said he could read every thought crossing my face. “Where’d you go?”
“Nowhere.” I squeezed his hand. “Just thinking about how lucky I got. Stuck in a truck with a guy who couldn’t string two words together.”
“I’ve gotten better.”
“You have.” I smiled at him. “You told me you loved me and everything.”
“Only took me three tries to get the words out.”
“Progress.”
He lifted my hand and pressed a kiss to my knuckles, right over my wedding ring. “I love you, Gabby. More than sweet tea.”
I grinned. “That’s not saying much.”
“More than anything,” he corrected, eyes warm. “More than I ever thought I could love anyone. You and Eloise and this little one—” He nodded toward my belly. “You’re my whole world.”
The baby kicked again, hard enough that I gasped. Mason’s eyes widened.
“She agrees,” I said, pressing his hand to my baby bump.
“I can’t wait to meet her,” he murmured.
Eloise tugged on his sleeve, holding up another drawing. “Daddy, look. I drawed our family.”
Mason took the paper, examining it with the same seriousness he’d give an official report. There were four figures—a big one, a medium one, a small one, and a tiny blob that I assumed was the baby.
“This is perfect,” he said. “Best picture I’ve ever seen.”
I watched them—my husband and my daughter, heads bent together over a crayon drawing—and felt my heart swell so big it almost hurt.
Four years ago, I’d been a server at this roadhouse, invisible to most, dreaming of a life bigger than Wildwood Valley. Butas it turned out, the biggest life I could imagine was right here all along. I just needed a snowstorm, a ditch, and a tongue-tied firefighter to help me find it.
Mason looked up and caught me staring. “What?”
“Nothing.” I smiled. “Just thinking about how glad I am that you’re terrible at driving in snow.”
He laughed, loud and warm, and the sound wrapped around me like a blanket.
Yeah. This was exactly where I was meant to be.
