“The only acceptable bag we could find was a severely overpriced wine cooler. We stuffed it full of candy, a mini wine bottle for Mom, and a root beer for me. Then we spent the day at the movies, hopping from one theater to the next. I don’t remember a time in my life when I laughed so much. It’s been our tradition every Thanksgiving since.
“Seems like a tradition worth continuing. So, you still gift them each year?”
I nod. “Sure do. Once I turned twenty-one, we traded out my root beer for a full wine bottle. It’s our favorite gift to give. Just wait until you see my collection.”
Oops.I don’t miss Stetson’s pause. Freeze. Aborting all movement together at the sound of me making plans. “Or maybe I’ll just add to it.”
“Are you saying you want to be a part of our tradition, Stetson?”
“Maybe.”
Why doesn’t that terrify me?
“For the first time in a long time, I don’t hate the sound of that.” He turns my head to meet his, our eyes locking in a way that feels tethered. Like they’re finding their rightful place—together.
“That’s one step in the right direction, then,” he whispers against my lips before kissing me softly. “Why don’tyou let me feed you, and you can tell me all about your Christmas tradition next?”
My stomach growls, and I’m positive nothing sounds better.
I hold up a finger. “Just one request.”
“Let’s hear it,” he chuckles.
“Biscuits and gravy.”
Not even a second passes before Stetson belts out a full-body laugh and throws me on my back in a fit of tickles. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
cove
“Either define the moment, or the moment will define you.”
Often attributed to Walt Whitman
Stet:
I can’t get you out of my head. Thank you for spending the weekend with me.
Stet:
Safe travels to Paris. Call me when you land. I’d love to talk.
Stet:
Is this thing on? I’m starting to think you’re avoiding me. Please don’t.
The emotional securityI once had blew out the fucking window when Stetson stormed into my life like a man on a mission. Emotions and feelings spill out of me without reason, making going into this next week all themore agonizing.
I already miss him.
I clutch my phone in my palm, hating myself for reading his messages again. I changed his name to Stet after our weekend in Chicago. It felt natural with the progress we made together.
No part of me wants to ignore him. Not even a little. But right now, it’s the only way I can be sure my head is clear and focused on the reason I’m here.
If I can just get through this week, secure the funds, and leave Texas like I was never here, then Stetson and I can have a fair shot together. At least as long as he doesn’t write me off for ignoring him. It hurts to hurt someone who has done nothing wrong. If I need to grovel to get back into his good graces, I’m willing to do that.
My hope is that once I get settled wherever I’m staying this week and meet the guy I’m supposed to fake date, my anxiety will subside and I’ll be ready to talk. There are too many worries and doubts running through my head to form a competent conversation outside of today’s circumstances.
