“But as you can see, that didn’t exactly work out. And with my ankle now… there’s no chance. But whatever. It was silly anyway. I didn’t have to come here. Could’ve gone to Vegas and made a fool of myself there.”
“Hey.”
I stepped around the kitchen table.
Finally—an excuse to pull her in.
I wrapped my arms around her and held her close.
“Dreams matter, Willa. We’ll figure something out.”
She looked up at me, eyes a little glassy.
Shit.
Didn’t mean to hit her that deep.
And I sure as hell didn’t want our first kiss to come from pity, or bad timing or whatever this was.
So I just held her tighter. Felt like that list meant more than she was letting on. But I wasn’t gonna ask.Not yet.
“Willa, not that I don’t enjoy your company, but we’ve got an early morning. Gotta head out and pick up McKenzie. And if you’d like to join me in bed… offer still stands.”
“Thanks, but I’m still saving myself for our wedding night. Remember?”
I was starting to get it—her humor might’ve been more armor than sass.
“Alright then. As the man of the house and your future husband, let me at least tuck you in properly.”
“Deal.”
She slid off the barstool slowly and held onto my arm—lightly, like she had to. Like I was the only solid thing in reach.
Pretty sureAdmiral Cashwas winning this battle.
I walked her over to the couch, grabbed a blanket, and tucked her in like I meant it.
Even threw another log on the fire.
“Sleep well, little bull whisperer.”
“Sleep well, sock pisser.”
I laughed, leaned down, and kissed her forehead. Then dragged my half-dead, whiskey-fueled body upstairs.
Too old for afterparties. And entire bottles of Johnny.
5. CHAPTER PIE
I woke up to voices. Soft. Laughing. And something smelled… sweet?
Definitely not coffee.
Still half-asleep and fully in my boxers, I shuffled downstairs, not even thinking about clothes or people or reality.
Until I stepped into the kitchen.
And saw it.
