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“I don’t know if you’ve heard, but there are these fucking things called planes,” Caleb tells me. “I have a whole field of them.”

Across from us, Georgia glances up and catches my eye. She smiles softly, and it hits me that I’m in so deep I have no idea how to swim back to the surface.

Caleb leans back, folding his arms. “Just don’t lose her because you’ve convinced yourself she deserves better.”

“Oof,” Beck says. “Why not say it as it is?”

“Somebody has to,” Caleb says. He looks me dead in the eye. “You really going to let her get on a plane home without saying something?”

I run my thumb over my jaw, looking at the woman who makes children laugh, who makes me laugh. Who made my mother happy enough at lunch that she actually called me two days ago and said that maybe she was wrong about her.

“No,” I murmur. “I’m not.”

“So what are you going to do?” Beck asks.

I smile. “That’s none of your damn business. Now, are we ordering food or are we going to sit here and bare our souls to each other? Because either way I need another beer.”

GEORGIA

It’s almost eleven by the time we hug Theo’s friends goodbye and head back to Ravensmere. Daisy fell asleep on me a couple of hours ago, so Beck had to lift her gently into his arms, holding her close while we all said goodnight.

Theo drives more carefully this time, and I watch the profile of his face in the dashboard glow. The strong line of his jaw. The way his thumb taps against the steering wheel before going still.

I let out a contented sigh.

“Are you cold?” he asks suddenly, eyes still on the road.

“Not really,” I tell him. “To be honest, it’s nice to be a bit cooler. That fire was roaring.”

He slides his hand onto my thigh. “Brian does it to make everybody drink more.”

“A businessman with drive. I like it.”

Theo smiles.

“It was nice to see Caleb and Beck again,” I say. “They’re fun. And Daisy’s the sweetest. They all care about you a lot.”

“We have a lot of history.” He squeezes my leg, his thumb brushing my thigh.

Up ahead, against the murky black sky, I see the outline of Ravensmere in the distance. “Are you sad they’re not staying at the house?” I ask.

He glances down at his hand on my thigh then back at the road. “Not one bit.”

The way his mouth curves sends a shiver down my spine. He puts both hands back on the wheel and takes a left into the driveway, tires crunching against the gravel, before he pulls up on the other side of where he parked earlier.

A small concession to his brother, maybe.

He kills the engine, but doesn’t get out of the car. Instead he reaches for my leg again, running the tip of his finger down my thigh. “Tell me about your apartment,” he says.

I blink at the unexpected change in conversation. “In New York?”

“Yeah.” He tips his head to the side. I can only see half of it, the other is in shadow. “Do you get a lot of visitors?”

“Some. My mom, my friends. But mostly it’s just me. Why?”

He draws a circle against my knee like he’s thinking through something.

“I may have business in New York,” he says. “Wondered if you’d like a visitor.”