“Though I’ll admit, the fake dating campaign threw me fora loop initially. But then I realized that boy finally has an excuse to be with the girl he loves. He’s going to fake it ‘til he makes it. If I know anything about my son, it’s that he never gives up.”
I pull her into a side hug. “Thanks for always believing in me.”
“Completely. Your father and I had a running bet on when you’d finally tell her.”
“Who won?”
“Neither of us, actually. We both thought it would take longer.” She squeezes me back. “Plus, technically, your sister spilled the jelly beans.”
The basement door opens, and April appears, wearing one of my old Knights hoodies, her curls a beautiful mess, eyes still sleepy. She spots me and smiles, and my heart does that splooting thing it always does around her.
“Good morning,” she says softly.
“Morning, beautiful.”
Mom clears her throat delicately. “I’m going to go check on the dogs in the backyard. Take your time with breakfast.”
She disappears through the back door, leaving April and me in the quiet kitchen.
“Your mom is the best,” she says, moving to pour herself coffee.
“She really is.” As she stands at the counter, I realize I can wrap my arms around her from behind. Press a kiss to her temple. Just because I can. We watch Mom and the dogs through the window.
April leans back against me with a contented sigh. “This is nice.”
“It sure is.”
We stand there for a moment, existing in our new reality. But I can feel tension in her shoulders, see the slight furrowbetween her brows when she helps herself to a slice of French toast.
“What are you thinking about?” I ask.
“Just ... everything. The real estate appointment to see the potential space. Finishing the campaign. What happens when?—”
I sit down at the table with her. “One thing at a time. Remember?”
“I know. But I can’t help it. My brain?—”
I finish, “Overthinks everything. Meanwhile, I’m the scatterbrain. We kind of make the perfect pair if I do say so.”
She giggles.
I draw her to standing and kiss her forehead and then drop my forehead to hers. “We’re in this together now. Whatever comes next, we figure it out.”
She nods, but I can tell she’s still worrying. Before I can press further, Mom comes back inside with all five dogs in tow, and breakfast preparations resume as the twins thunder down the stairs.
After a lazy morning with my family, it’s time to return to real life. On the charter flight back to Nebraska, April sits beside me, our hands clasped on the armrest between us. Every so often, she’ll glance at me with a small, secret smile that makes me want to kiss her senseless.
Which I do. Several times. Because I can.
“The guys are going to give us so much grief,” she says as we begin our descent into Omaha.
“Oh, just wait until we see the girls.”
“Clark Culpepper, not caring what his teammates think? Who are you?”
“A guy who just spent ten years pretending to be okay with friendship. I’m done pretending about anything.”
She squeezes my hand, her eyes shining. “I really like this version of you.”
