We’re heading home in a few hours, but for now, I allow myself to be held.
Let myself be loved.
And somewhere, in the darkness, between one heartbeat and the next, I smell her perfume—sharp, pungent, wrong.
I feel the cold concrete of the basement beneath my feet. Hear her voice, not in the room, but inside my skull, whispering that I can run to Happiness, run to my friends, run to the ends of the earth—but I will always, always belong to her. She’s vowing that this is only the beginning.
Maybe it is.
But this time, I’ll write my own damn ending.
And that makes all the difference.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
VALEN
Seeing Happiness, Georgia through Clover’s eyes is a much different experience than when I first arrived here.
It’s nothing like I expected and everything Clover has needed.
What does it say about me if I’m jealous that a fucking town was able to take care of my girl when I wasn’t?
Probably nothing good.
We pull onto Main Street just after noon, and the first thing I see is a hand-painted sign that reads “Welcome to Happiness—Where Smiles Are Free and Gossip Is Priceless.”
“Jesus Christ,” Roman mutters from the driver’s seat of the small bus he’s driving.
Neither of us paid much attention to the…aesthetics of the town when we first arrived. Now it’s all I can see, and I have a feeling Roman’s having the same experience if his turned-up nose is anything to go by.
I hope I don’t look like such a snob though.
“Ah, the sign is a work in progress.” Clover chuckles. It’s a beautiful sound. “Braxton and Grey were upset that the very first things they saw when they came to town were signs for a meat auction, so they started a contest for the bestWelcome toHappinesssign. Each entry gets a one-week trial.” She grins up at me. “Madi told me some are better than others.”
“I love it already,” Chase says from the back. I’m not even a little surprised that he appreciates the chaos here.
Clover, who’s wedged between me and Sterling in the middle row, lets out a sound that’s half laugh, half sob. “We’re home,” she whispers.
I squeeze her hand that I’ve been holding for going on six hours now.
The town is small—smaller than I could have imagined, even after all my research. When I arrived last time, it was with a critical eye focused on the safety of a client. Being here now, as a boyfriend—a term I’m still getting used to, even if I did anoint myself with it—is a whole new experience.
I’ve never been a boyfriend before. And I’ve certainly never gone home to “meet the family” with a girl before.
“Oh, look!” Clover leans across me and presses her nose to the window.
Main Street is four blocks long, lined with brick buildings that appear like they haven’t seen a paintbrush or hammer since the fifties.
And up ahead, in the center of it all, is the old train station.
“The Chug,” Clover says. Her face literally shines as she stares at it.
“It’s so—” Sterling scratches his head.
“Quaint,” Grant supplies from the back seat with Chase. Somehow, Chief won the passenger seat, and I think Grant is still pouting about it, since he called dibs first.
“Perfect,” I say, staring at Clover. This town. Her. It’s all…perfect.
