Before I’d left his vineyard, I’d left our travel mascot on the spare room bed.“You kept it?”
“Absolutely.It’s watching over the tasting room.Very intimidating presence.”
I glanced up to see Josh watching me from the doorway, eyebrows raised, smiling.
“I can’t wait to see you again,” I said, softer now.
“Me too,” Tristan replied.“Soon?”
My heart thumped harder at the thought.
“Maybe dinner?”he offered.“Anything is better than my cooking.”
“Eggs and toast is perfectly fine.”I leaned against the counter.
“But it’s not ideal.I prefer something more...well, something better.”
I laughed.“You’re still negotiating.”
“Always,” he said.After a breath, he lowered his voice.“Anna...I meant what I said.”
“I know,” I said, pulling once again on the collar of my hoodie.“So did I.”
“So, back to that dinner question.Are you on?”
Tossing my gaze toward the old-school family calendar hanging beside the fridge, I scanned for upcoming evenings off.Would he fly here?“Well, I’m on days next weekend.”
A knock sounded at the door.
“Hang on,” I said slowly, walking toward the entryway.“Someone’s at the door.”
Josh leaned against the wall, arms crossed, fork deep in a chocolate concoction.A cocky expression was plastered over his face as he glanced at the dessert.“Don’t tell Allie.”
I didn’t even know there was chocolate cake!I swiped my finger over the frosting as I sauntered by and opened the door.
My jaw dropped.There Tristan was with his phone against his ear.
And there I stood with a dollop of chocolate on my finger.
“Dinner tonight?”He stood on the porch, jacket slung over one shoulder, hair wind-tousled and slightly damp, eyes bright and hopeful and entirely too real.“Or are we starting with dessert?”
A breathless and incredulous laugh sailed out of me and after licking my finger, I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him without hesitation.He held me just as tightly, like he’d been waiting for this moment too.
Over his shoulder, Josh gave me a thumbs up before disappearing into the kitchen.
“I guess complications travel fast,” I said against Tristan’s collarbone.
“Good thing I specialize,” he murmured.
With a smile wide and unguarded, I pulled back enough to look at and breathe him in.
“For the record,” I said, “my kids approve.”
His expression softened.“That matters.”
“It does,” I agreed.
Behind us, the house felt full, not crowded, not heavy, but alive.
