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“Wow,” she breathes when we turn down the lane to my parents’ place. “This is where you grew up?”

“Yep.”

“I guess with five boys you needed space to roam.”

“Yeah, it was Mom and Dad’s way of also keeping us out of the public eye. Dad built the business from the start, and as it grew along with his bank account, it was hard to go out without stares, and random people stopping us asking him for a job, even a loan. Complete strangers would stop him asking for money. I don’t remember that part as much. But I’ve heard the stories. That’s when they bought this place and built the lake. It’s our own little oasis.”

“It’s beautiful,” she exhales, staring out the window. “I bet it’s gorgeous when the snow falls.”

“The forecast is calling for snow next week. If it happens, I’ll bring you back. You can see for yourself.”

“What makes you think I want to come back?” she asks.

I pull up to the house and put the SUV in Park. Removing my seat belt, I face her. “Think with this,” I say, placing my hand on her chest, over her heart. “Not with this.” I lift my hand and tap my index finger against her temple. “Or maybe think this these,” I say once again, running the pad of my thumb across her lips. “Definitely think with these.”

“I’d like that. I mean, I’d like to come back. With you.”

“There’s my girl.” I lean in and kiss the tip of her nose. “Come on. Mom’s got hot chocolate ready for our adventure.”

“It’s freezing out. Will we be warm enough?” She looks down at herself; I’m sure gauging the warmth of her outfit for an outdoor escapade.

“We’ll take the Ranger. It’s enclosed and has a heater.” I wink at her, before climbing out of the SUV. This time she doesn’t wait for me to open her door, but that’s okay. We can take some small steps. After all, she is here with me. I didn’t think I would be able to convince her to come. The rest will fall into place.

Meeting her at the front of the truck, I place my hand on the small of her back and guide her up the front porch. “Mom!” I call out as we enter.

“In the kitchen!” she calls back.

“Ready?” I ask Aurora.

“Is anyone ever really ready to meet the parents?” She peers up at me, and I can see the indecision in her eyes.

“Yes. Mine are awesome. Trust me, babe.” We move toward the kitchen to find Mom tightening the lid on a thermos that I know is full of her homemade hot chocolate. “Mom, this is Aurora Steele. Aurora, this my mother, Lena Riggins.”

“It’s nice to meet you. You have a lovely home.” Aurora holds her hand out to my mother.

“We’re huggers,” Mom says, walking around the kitchen island and drawing her into a hug. “And thank you. We’re glad to have you,” she says, pulling away. “I’ve got you all set up. Dad fueled up the Ranger, and there are a couple of blankets, laundered blankets, on the seat,” Mom says with a shake of her head.

“Hey, that’s your eldest two,” I say, holding my hands up in defense.

Mom glances at Aurora and rolls her eyes. “You’re just like them.” She throws me a mock glare that isn’t the slightest bit scary.

“On that note, we’re out. Thanks.” I lean in and kiss Mom on the cheek. “Tell Dad thanks as well. We’ll be back before dinner. If she beats us here, her sister’s name is Aspen.”

“Go on. I can handle it. Oh, and, Aurora,” Mom says, waiting for Aurora to look at her. “Make him work for it.” She winks and turns toward the sink, dismissing us.

Aurora’s mouth drops open, and I throw my head back in laughter. “Come on, let me show you where I grew up.” Hand in hand, we head back outside and toward the barn. We just got here, and I can already tell this is going to be my favorite part of the day. Other than the kisses. Those are at the very top of the list.

Chapter 8

Aurora

Grant expertly maneuvers over the trails. I’m sitting with a blanket on my lap, and my eyes glued to the scenery. It’s breathtaking. I know that Tennessee is beautiful, but seeing it like this, away from the city lights, is something else altogether.

“What are you thinking about over there?” Grant asks.

“How Aspen would love to see this,” I tell him honestly.

“We’ll have to bring her out with us next time.”

“She would love that. I would love that,” I say, turning to look at him. I don’t comment on his assumption that there will be a next time. I know him well enough already to know that if he wants it, he’s going to do whatever it takes to make it happen.

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