Page 132 of The Wild Card

“Fine,” he finally says. “But small. And no gifts.”

“Small, no gifts. Got it.”

“And you’re in charge of food.”

“Obviously.” I grin at him. “This is going to be great. You’ll see.”

He doesn’t look convinced. But he also doesn’t say no.

It’s a start.

* * *

Three days later, we caravan to Oklahoma.

Sadie and I are in her car—windows down, music up, snacks overflowing from the back seat. Foster and Crew are in Crew’s truck because apparently they needed to “pick up supplies” on the way, which I’m pretty sure is code for “avoid being trapped in a car with chatty women for three hours.”

The drive is beautiful. The hustle and bustle of Dallas eventually fades into farmland, then rolling hills, then dense pine forests that make me feel like I’ve been transported to another world. By the time we turn onto the gravel road that leads to Crew’s property, I’m practically bouncing in my seat.

“You’re nervous,” Sadie observes.

“I’m excited.”

She glances at me. “It’s because of him, isn’t it?”

“It’s because I’ve never seen the cabin. I’ve heard about it for weeks, but I’ve never actually—”

“Emmie.”

“What?”

“When are you going to tell him?”

My stomach drops. “Tell him what?”

Sadie gives me a look. The look. The one she’s been giving me for weeks, every time Crew’s name comes up, every time I deflect a question about my love life.

“That you’re in love with him.”

“I’m not—”

“You dedicated your cookbook to him. Not with words, but we both know—” She shakes her head. “That book is a love letter. You know it, I know it, and if Crew ever reads it, he’s going to know it too.”

I stare out the window, watching the trees blur past. “It doesn’t matter how I feel,” I say quietly. “He made his choice.”

“People can make new choices.”

“Sadie—”

“I’m just saying. A weekend in the woods. His cabin. Bonfires and starlight and—”

“We’re sharing a room. You and me. No funny business.”

“Fine, no funny business.” She grins. “But I reserve the right to accidentally leave you two alone at strategic moments.”

“You’re the worst.”

“I’m the best, and you know it.”