Also, I miss being a sommelier.
Even if I’m overall happy in Copper Valley, and excited about the baby, I still miss what I had before.
Goldie tells me it’s okay to feel all of those things, because humans are complicated and we’re allowed to be conflicted.
I pull into the driveway and smile at the sight of the house.
I like this house.
It’s cozy and comfortable.
The bedroom I’d been staying in has been completely redone in the past two weeks, with proper ventilation so that the paint fumes don’t bother me, and we’re moving into it so that Holt’s bedroom can get finished.
Then the third bedroom on the main floor—the one that no one uses because it was Caden’s room—will get some sprucing up, and the basement, and then the house is complete, though Holt doesn’t have immediate plans for either.
I stride up the front steps in the waning heat of the day, and when I push into the living room, there’s no sign waiting like there was just about two weeks ago, but there’s something better.
Holt moving around the kitchen without his crutches.
“You ditched the sticks?” I say as I wrap my arms around him and go up on tiptoes to kiss his chin.
“I’m two-legged again.” He pulls me tight and kisses me, and my heart does a full Olympic vault routine, leaping and twisting and flying, but it doesn’t land.
It’s too busy soaring.
I still have so much work to do to convince my parents that Holt and I are two grown adults who can date without it interfering with the rest of our lives.
But right now, it doesn’t matter.
Not when I feel like I’mhome.
29
Holt
This has beenthe longest day of my life.
I tried distracting myself with my physical therapy.
I tried distracting myself by playing pinball at Fletcher’s place.
I tried distracting myself by dreaming up new ways to convince my dog to like me.
I finally gave up and decided the best way to distract myself would be to step out of my comfort zone and make Ziggy dinner for once, and even that hasn’t fully occupied my brain.
But she’s finally here.
She’s home.
Smiling at me as she pulls out of kissing me. “Where’s Jessica?”
“I got her a doggy pool. She’s outside living the life of her dreams.”
“No.”
“Yep. Got her an umbrella too. She’s in heaven.” Just checked on her a few minutes ago.
With the temperatures finally dropping and only an inch of water in the pool, she’s fine.
