“And?”
“And I won’t let her down.”
Knox smiles, quiet and knowing. “I know you won’t.”
Brynn sticks her head out the door. “If you two are done with your bro bonding, Kinsey is five seconds away from throwing your spice rack into a donation bin.”
Knox laughs. “I’ll save the paprika.”
Inside, the house hums with movement. Music drifts through the rooms, Knox cringes when Whitney Houston starts playing. Kate and Brynn are in the kitchen, arranging pizza and paper plates on the island. Kinsey’s sprawled on the floor with Evie, trying to keep her focused on a coloring book page.
Evie darts over and presses a glittery gold star sticker into my palm. I stick it right onto the front of my tool chest.
She studies me for a second, head tilted. “Are you sad you’re leaving your house?”
The question is gentle. Careful.
I crouch to her level. “No,” I say honestly. “I think it will be fun spending more time with you and your mom.”
She considers that, then nods, satisfied. “Okay.”
As I straighten, she returns to Kinsey, then Knox passes by, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “You did good, Wells,” he says quietly.
I glance back toward Kate, who catches my eye from across the room. She smiles before telling everyone to come get some food.
“Yeah,” I say under my breath. “This is good.”
Chapter thirty
Kate
A few hours later, the house looks less like a moving truck exploded inside it. Broken down boxes are piled by the door, throw pillows are stacked by the couch, and one very proud little girl is wearing a glittery headband that reads Official Helper.
Evie twirls through the living room, Matilda tucked under one arm, trailing stickers in her wake. “Coach Wells is here now!”
“Easy there, bug,” Cam says, crouching to scoop her up mid-spin. She squeals, wrapping an arm around his neck, curls brushing his jaw.
I lean against the doorway, watching them. My chest tightens in that familiar, dangerous way that it usually does when I watch him with her.
The kitchen still smells faintly like pizza and cardboard. Brynn’s laughter echoes in my head, along with Kinsey’s wink and her call me if he drives you nuts as she followed them out the door.
Now it’s just us.
Cam sets Evie down, and she bolts toward her art supplies. “You okay?” he asks.
I nod, even though my throat feels thick. “Yeah. Just…taking it in.”
He glances around the room, taking in the mess without judgment. “It’s a lot of boxes.”
“It’s a lot of everything,” I admit. “Good everything. But still.”
He steps closer and wraps an arm around my waist. I lean into him before I can stop myself.
“Feels right,” he says quietly, chin resting at the top of my head.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “It does.”
After Evie’s tucked in, I find Cam in the kitchen, barefoot, washing dishes like it’s second nature. His sleeves are pushed up as he rinses a glass, and he looks…comfortable.
