Page 43 of Suddenly Yours

The way she said it, like it mattered, made something shift in me.

We stood there a moment with the quiet of the house surrounding us. Everything was warm and real and still unfinished in the best way.

“Well,” I said lightly, breaking the silence, “I would’ve shown you the place sooner, but I didn’t want you judging me for living like a feral raccoon.”

She laughed, the sound easing something tight in my chest. “You’re not feral. Just… unfinished.”

I smiled. “Guess we have that in common.”

She turned to me, her eyes running over my face for a split second.

“Cade.” Her voice was low. “I don’t want to go home.”

My eyebrows shot up. I was about to tell her she could sleep in my bed and offer to take the sofa downstairs, but then she moved toward me and my brain came into focus and her words registered.

Chapter Twelve

Missy

From the moment I stepped foot in Cade’s house, I knew deep in my bones that I wouldn’t be leaving that night. That certainty startled me. It wasn’t an impulsive or reckless thought. It was a calm and solid decision. Like a door quietly clicking shut behind me.

So much had changed between us over the years. Hell, even over the past few weeks. If I was being honest, in the last hour something fundamental had shifted again, sliding into place so seamlessly it almost scared me.

Telling Cade, my best friend, my constant, the one person who had always shown up without question, that I wanted more should have felt awkward. Risky. Like stepping onto unstable ground.

Instead, warmth unfurled beneath my skin, a low, steady hum that soothed instead of rattled. My heart didn’t race or stutter. It settled into place, as if it finally recognized the rhythm it had been searching for all along.

Why had it taken me this long? Why hadn’t I seen him, really seen him, standing right there the whole time? Not waiting. Not pushing. Just… there.

I’d wasted years chasing an idea. A polished version of love that I’d designed when I was far too young to know what really mattered.

In my teen years, I’d kept a list tucked into the back of a diary, written in careful handwriting like I was outlining a future instead of a fantasy.

Tall.

Blond hair.

Blue eyes.

Dimples, optional, but encouraged.

Kind.

Though now I could admit how flimsy that one had been. Every boy that I’d dated had been kind at first. Kind was easy. Kind was temporary for a lot of people.

Straight-A student.

That one had carried on into college. I’d wanted ambition. Intelligence. Someone who could stand toe-to-toe with me, impress my parents, fit neatly into the world that I’d been raised to expect.

The last line on the list hadn’t been mine.

Must be able to make me laugh.

Back then Cade had leaned over my shoulder and told me to add it. When I’d written the words, he’d told me that no future was worth much if I couldn’t laugh.

At the time, I’d rolled my eyes and thought it had sounded cheesy. After all, my parents had never laughed together that I could remember. Laughter was for others.

Now, however, standing in his half-finished house, with sawdust still clinging to the corners and warmth radiating from every repaired surface, that line felt like the only one that truly mattered.