Page 64 of Restored By You

When they’ve said all they can for one afternoon, Shea steps into my side, and I wrap an arm around her. Her father watching us with an expression I can’t quite read.

“So,” I say, because somebody’s got to break the tension. “Thanksgiving is Thursday.” Shea goes still against me, but I keep going, because if we’re doing this, we’re doing it right. “You and Michelle should come. Shea and Tyler will be there. Might as well all be miserable together over some turkey and corn bread.”

Daniel blinks, genuinely thrown for the first time all day. “You’re inviting us to your family’s Thanksgiving.”

“I am.”

“After all of this?”

“Family’s family.” I shrug. “Even the difficult ones. Trust me, we’ve got plenty.”

Shea’s staring up at me like I’ve lost my mind, and maybe I have, but her father has gone quiet, and after a long moment, he gives me a single, stiff nod. “I—Yes. Thank you. We’d be honored.”

“Great.” I grab my coffee and steer my girl toward the door before anybody can overthink it. Then I pause, glance back over my shoulder, and give Daniel Winton one last, honest piece of advice. “Oh, and fair warning.” I grin. “My mother isn’t exactly your biggest fan. So, I’d eat before you come.”

Twenty-Three.

Shea

Rhett doesn’t start the truck right away. We sit in the cab at the resort, the heater ticking, snow drifting down onto the windshield, the mountain going white around us. He’s got one hand on the wheel and the other reaching across the console to hold mine.

His thumb moves slow over my knuckles. “You okay, baby?”

I take a breath, and I realize, a little to my own surprise, that the answer is yes. “I think so,” I say. “I don’t know. It doesn’t fix years of hurt. He can’t just…say sorry and undo all of it. But it’s a start. It’s more of my father than I’ve gotten in my whole life, honestly.” I let out a shaky laugh. “I don’t know if we’ll ever have the kind of thing your family has. But maybe we could have…something.”

“That’s all it’s gotta be,” Rhett says. “A start.”

“Yeah.” I squeeze his hand. “And Tyler. I get to go back and tell Tyler he’s not getting shipped off. That he gets to keep Willa and Parker and the whole—” my voice catches, “—the whole life he built here. He gets to keep it.”

“He’s gonna lose his mind.” Rhett smiles. “In the coolest way possible.”

“Obviously.” I laugh, wiping at my eyes. “He’ll say something like ‘cool story’ and then go text Willa and pretend he doesn’t care.”

Rhett’s quiet for a second, then he lifts our joined hands and presses a kiss to the back of mine, and when he looks at me, my favorite set of latte eyes have gone serious.

“I’m proud of you.” His thumb strokes my cheek. “You’re the bravest person I know, Shea Winton.”

And those four words…they undo me completely.

I unbuckle my seatbelt.

His brow furrows. “Shea?”

I climb across the console and into his lap, my knees on either side of his hips, my hands framing his stubbled jaw. He catches me, his big hands settling on my waist. And I look at this man—this steady, patient, ridiculous, wonderful man who didn’t just restore my house.

He restored me.

“I’m more than okay,” I whisper. “And I have something I’ve been trying to say for weeks, and I keep chickening out, but I can’t anymore…”

His grin is wide. “I love you, too,” he says before I can, and everything in me goes still. He says it again, softer, his forehead dropping to mine. “I love you, Shea. I have for a while.”

I kiss him, more sure about us than I ever have been. “I love you, too,” I breathe against his mouth. “God, Rhett, I love you so much, I—”

He kisses me before I can finish, and I laugh. And I may cry into it a little, too. My hands thread in his hair as his arms band tight around me, holding on like he’ll never let go. And I don’t want him to.

I kiss him back saying it again and again against his lips, because now that I’ve started, I can’t stop. I love you. I love you. I love you.

The plane ticket in my inbox has never felt further away.