“We can’t have baked potatoes without cheese,” Jovie says sagely. She links one arm around my waist, leaning into my side.
I eat up the closeness she’s offering. “I completely agree.”
Russ steps beside us, letting Reed take his place in the kitchen. “We keep things pretty simple up here.”
“That sounds perfect to me.”
“We get to sleep in bunk beds.” Jovie tilts her head up to look at me. “I’ll sleep in the top, and you can take the bottom.”
Lucy shakes her head. “How quickly you forget me, nugget.”
“We always share a bunk bed. I don’t want Rose to be all by herself her first time here.”
Having this little girl looking out for my comfort is honestly the sweetest thing in the world.
“Did Reed tell you the sleeping arrangements?” Lucy asks.
“He did.” Their parents have a bedroom downstairs, and there’s another with two sets of bunk beds where Lucy and Jovieusually sleep. Up in the loft are more bunk beds for the guys. “I’m ready for the bunk bed situation.”
“Good. Just in case you were worried it would be an ‘only one bed’ situation.”
Reed’s gaze snaps up to mine from where he’s helping set up dinner. My stomach flips at how intensely he’s watching me. I’m not sure he knows what the trope is, but it’s clear he’s intrigued by the context.
“I wasn’t worried,” I tell her.
Sitting around the big table with Reed’s family is like one of those montages they play in holiday movies. Clips of the responsible oldest brother telling his daughter an obnoxious dad joke. The quiet brother coming out of his shell. The parents gently encouraging their granddaughter to get a little less food on her face when she eats. The flirtatious brother making everyone laugh. The sassy sister lamenting the lack of a bookstore in town. The broody brother surprising everyone with a smile.
And me, the outsider they welcomed in like one of their own. I love it. I kind of hate it, too. Why did it take someone else’s family to make me feel this comfortable in my own skin? Why was that not the default at my own table growing up?
Reed rubs his hand across my back in soothing circles, tipping his head closer to mine. “Everything okay?”
I’m in a cabin in the woods eating a positively fantastic baked potato, surrounded by the kindest people I’ve ever met. Obviously, I’m on the verge of tears.
I lean in to whisper in his ear. “Your family’s wonderful.”
Just like that night with Jovie,wonderfulhere means “I might be having an existential crisis because I love everyone at this table.”Especially you.
He gazes at me, his warm brown eyes finding all the words I didn’t say. His hand slides up to cup my shoulder, snugging me to him. “You’re wonderful, too,” he whispers back.
The tiny, bright light of hope inside me wants him to mean it the same way that I do.
The moment’s too tempting. I move in for a quick kiss. Naturally, Jovie starts giggling.
We go back to eating, but Reed keeps his arm around me, holding me close. Grounding me. My very own emotional support grump.
“We’ve been good about not asking questions.” Lucy aims a doubtful expression at Jovie. “But we’re all dying to know what finally brought you guys together.”
“I want to know everything!” Jovie shrieks like a cheerful little pressure cooker. “What do you like about each other? Are you soulmates? How did you know you loved Rose, Uncle Reed?”
The cabin fills with muted laughter and a few cleared throats.
“Didn’t you get enough answers at game night?” Reed asks.
Jovie puts on a solemn expression. “Uncle Graham says asking questions is a sign of a scientific mind.”
“I didn’t mean questions about other people’s personal lives,” the uncle in question says.
“Tabloids are where our nation’s greatest scientists do their best work.” Nathan matches Jovie’s play-seriousness, making Graham grumble.
