Page 104 of Hearts on the Line

I piggyback off his dig. “Yeah. What if he buys it from you?”

My brother only shoots me a death glare. “Not in the habit of picking up farms.”

“But I know you’re dying to be back in Merritt Point.”

Jack flips me off behind Ruth’s back.

“Is she here yet?” I ask.

Brooks peeks out of the pantry window toward the driveway. “No. Annie’s car isn’t here.”

“Good. All right. Go, go.” I shoo everyone out of the kitchen, ready to plate the last of the appetizers.

The barn is attached to the old farmhouse through a gazebo and an overgrown garden path. The barn doors open up to a pond with a field dotted with a vibrant rainbow of wildflowers. It’s peaceful and very different from what I’m used to.

It took most of the week, but Jack and Brooks helped clear the barn out and hung strings of café lights overhead. Annie snuck home for the weekend last night with a stack of old lace tablecloths she thrifted down on the Cape.

With Brooks and Jack helping, we pass out thirty-five plates of appetizers to neighbors, friends, even a few tourists.

Nana claps her hands together, beaming. Without her, June, and Gloria’s help, I’m not sure I could’ve pulled this off.

I say a few quick words to welcome everyone before diving back into the kitchen—more comfortable there than having all eyes on me. But it’s more than that. I don’t know why I’m so nervous.

The entrée is almost plated when I hear the crunch of tires over the gravel driveway.

Brooks elbows me. “They’re here.”

Finally.

My sister and Sloane climb out of Annie’s old Saab. Sloane looks gorgeous tonight—her long brunette hair swept to the side in soft curls, wearing a red dress with lips to match. A long slit up to her thigh reveals a peek at her legs.

I’m hit with the memory of how soft they were when she sat on my face this morning. Not that I’m planning on sharing that. I can’t wait until we’re no longer sharing my twin bed at my parents’ house any longer. We’ll be moving into our next apartment soon.

“Fuck me,” Brooks chuckles next to me. “Just marry her already.”

“Soon.”

Most days, I catch myself getting swept up in the thought that she’ll get tired of me, of Merritt Point, and run. But what Sloane isn’t counting on is me. I know now that what we have is something special. I think she’s figured that out too.

Annie pulls Sloane’s hand, leading them just out of my view.

I really want to see her face when she walks inside the barn, but I have to finish these plates. Gloria and Michael are here to help photograph the event. She told me last week he even asked her on a date.

“Ready?” Brooks asks.

I carry a tray of plates, Brooks behind me, Jack close after.

I step into the barn and lock eyes with Sloane. Her hands are at her chest as she takes in the tables, the lights, and the flowers.

“I saved you a seat,” I say, pulling out her chair.

She spins and narrows her eyes at me. “What are you up to, Ethan?”

I shrug. “Just doing my part.”

Finally, she sits, and I push her in toward the table and place the plate in front of her.

“This week’s supper club,” Bridget announces, “is in honor of Sloane Arden. We are so happy to have you back with us, darling. And also, to a dear member of this community, Ruth LeBlanc.”