Page 103 of Never Your Valentine

“It was a project,” I admit. “I thought about you the whole time. How you loved that tray, but you broke it because you were hurting, and how I let you walk away with that hurt.”

Annabelle reaches out a single finger and brushes the edge of the top plate. Her gesture is familiar. I remember her art ritual, and the way she touches all her supplies. Her eyes are filling now, but they seem to be happy tears. She unzips her jacket and fans her face. “That is a love song.”

“True.”

“Put that down so I can kiss you properly.”

We draw closer, magnetic and inevitable. Her lips brush mine, tentative at first. Her lips are an offering. Or maybe a promise. The world dissolves in a haze of rose-tinted light and the scent of spring. I’m utterly suspended, drowning in the sweet warmth of her mouth. I want to linger, to memorize this fragile bridge between us.

When we part, the air between us shivers, as if the universe itself is waiting for us to decide what comes next. We’re still standing on the porch, still nearly the same height. She presses her forehead to mine. “You’re really here.”

“I want to be wherever you are.”

“Can we go home?”

“Home?” I love the sound of that.

She turns to shout into the house. “Kat?”

A tall woman with a messy bun appears behind her. “I take it you don’t need a ride?”

“Just my suitcase.” Annabelle pulls on the handle of her wheeled luggage.

I blink. “You’re already packed?”

“I was on my way to you.”

I take a step back and nearly fall off the porch. “And you let me go on and on? With the tiered tray? And the speech? You let me say all of that.”

“Why would I stop you? This is the best day of my life.”

I throw my head back and laugh. Okay, fair. I needed to tell her how I feel. She needed to hear it. She needed to believe me. She does. I know she does. I especially know it when I see what she’s wearing. “Is that my euchre shirt?”

Annabelle looks down at herself and takes a fistful of the fabric. It bunches up in her hand, covering the word euchre so now it says, world’s best partner.

“I love you, Annabelle.”

“And I love you, Grant.”

We kiss again for a very long time before she introduces me to Kat, who says I’d better take care of Annabelle or she’ll drive straight across the bridge and hunt me down. I promise to do everything in my power to make Annabelle happy. It’s the easiest promise I’ve ever made.

Annabelle holds up a finger for me to wait. I do. I’ll wait for her forever. But she taps out a quick message on her phone and then smiles at me. “Damn, that felt good.”

“What did?”

“Telling Ender to stick a cactus up his rectum.”

I put Annabelle’s suitcase in my truck and help her into the cab. She isn’t telling me what she’d planned on saying to me when she got back to Echo Creek, but I have six hours to get it out of her. No, better than that. I have the rest of our lives.

“My mom says to invite you to the next family dinner,” I say when we’re finally out of downtown traffic and merging onto the highway.

“I’ll brush up on my euchre.”

“It’s not about euchre. Well, it is, but it’s also because the whole family wants you there.”

“Told you this was the best day ever.” Annabelle’s hand is on my knee. Her voice is soft. The truck is filling with the fruity beach scent that always clings to her. It’s the scent of warmer days to come. The scent of new beginnings.

Chapter 43