Page 53 of If You Like It, I Love It

Enzo still looks as shocked as I am, so I don’t have to ask if he was in on this. Sabrina clearly was, though. Mav, too. Hell, the whole damn town was probably in on it. Everybody on the guest list for this event, anyway.

“I don’t know that I want to become an official alpaca rescue organization. That would mean I’d have to take in every alpaca that needed a home and—”

Dr. Abernathy walks up behind me and squeezes my shoulders. “Breathe, Joni. Rescue organizations have limits. They can be full. There’s a lot to work out, but it sounds like a good idea to me, too.”

I accept the champagne flute from Glynnis and inelegantly throw back a few swigs. It’s true that I’ve been worried about the added expenses of taking on more alpacas, and once you have three, what’s four or five, right? Six? Seven?

Maybe I’m just not meant to have a calm life.

I hear car doors outside. People are arriving, people who knew about this crazy idea and showed up, anyway.

Derringer’s band starts to play on the outdoor stage Rhett rented for Glynnis’s party, which is now apparently my fundraiser.

Glynnis raises her own champagne flute high and says, “To Joni, who may not be the easiest friend to help, but who deserves it more than she knows.”

Everyone in the kitchen lifts a flute or a glass or a bottle, and they all respond, “To Joni!”

I don’t love being the center of all this attention, but once again, I’m reminded just how much I love these people.

Long after the sun has set and we’ve all eaten way too much barbecue and I’ve been forced to give an incredibly awkward speech, I lift my head off Enzo’s shoulder in the middle of a packed-dirt dance floor under a sky full of stars. “How do you feel about the idea of me starting an official alpaca rescue farm?”

His smile is slow but steady. “If you like it, I love it.”

“You say you use that phrase for things that make me happy. But I’m not sure if this will make me happy or not. What if it’s a huge mistake, and it makes me miserable?”

“Then I’ll help you undo it. I’ll love you through it, no matter what.”

And just like that, I know I’m calling Clayton Whitmire’s office on Monday to get the ball rolling. I’m officially in my crazy alpaca lady era—and officially crazy in love with my general contractor.

“Would it be a bad idea to start remodeling my primary bathroom right now?”

“Probably. But I don’t expect that to stop you.”

“There will be wallpaper.”

“I will try to talk you out of that.”

“You can try, but—”

He dips me before I can finish my sentence. When he pulls me back up to his chest, his kiss makes me forget what I was going to say, anyway.

“As long as you promise we can christen your new tub with a bubble bath, I could probably be persuaded to keep my wallpaper opinions to myself.”

“No, I want you to be honest. Always.”

“Always, beautiful. Always. But you’re not helping with demo.”

“But I like to help. And if I like it, you love it.”

“That’s not how that works.”

“We’ll see.” I rest my head back on his shoulder and smile. I’ll wear safety glasses this time.

28

Joni

Two Years Later