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I start to walk toward the door, but he reaches for my hand, pulls me gently back, and leads us to a more private spot under the wide branches of an old oak.

“Talk to me, Callie. What’s up?”

I should be honest and tell him I’m nervous about going inside and playing his fiancée in front of an entire preschool full of parents and teachers, but I don’t want him worrying about me today. As it is, he’s trying to hold it together himself—here as a single parent with an ex who can’t even be bothered to show up for the kid she’s fighting for in court. He needs to show Scout double the love to compensate for Elizabeth’s absence, just like he always has.

I know all of these things, and I don’t want to be selfish. I don’t want today to be about me. So I lie. “I’m good. Just taking it all in, excited for Scout.”

He shakes his head. “You don’t need to do this.”

“Do what? Be here?” Even though I’m a bundle of feelings and nerves, I don’t want to be dismissed. I don’t want him telling me I can skip out and that he’ll handle today himself. I want to be here for him and for Scout.

His face falls. “No. You don’t have to hold everything together. Right? You taught me that. I know this is a lot for you today—all the other parents and kids—I get that.”

My heart opens in a flood of appreciation for this guy who used to do everything in his power to stifle his emotions and keep a stiff upper lip. This man, who is standing here, is worried about me on a day that should only be about his son.

“Thanks. You’re sweet. I’m fine.”

“Liar.”

“Oh my god, did you really just call me a liar?”

He crosses his arms, muscle porn popping out left and right, even under his sport coat—especially those shoulders. “I did. Just admit you’re nervous, and we can go inside.”

“Fine. I’m nervous. But this isn’t about me.”

“Aw, Callie, you matter to me. Of course today is about Scout, but there’s room for you too.”

My lower lip trembles, and I swallow hard. A light breeze flutters the leaves above us, and I use that as an excuse to look up, look away, look anywhere but at the man I know I’m falling in love with.

I can’t do this. It’s not fair to him and not fair to Scout. Not when I never change. Even when I love people, I don’t stick around. So what’s the point in feeling that stupid emotion if it doesn’t ever inspire any permanence?

“I’m good. I think now that I admitted it, the nerves are going away,” I say, looking at the ground and starting to walk toward the school. But Luke still has a grip on my hand, and he gently pulls me back.

“C’mere.” I turn, and he wraps me in his arms. The strength of his chest and the way his body supports every bone in mine makes me relax. Bending his head down, he brushes my forehead with a kiss. It’s the gentle, reassuring kind of kiss. Meaningful instead of hot and sexy. And I feel it deep in my chest.

When we walk into the school, fingers still interlaced, Scout jumps up and waves, smiling like he hasn’t seen us in weeks. I love the exuberance of a child who looks at every moment as the most important event of the day. And I wonder if I’m hurting him by staying longer.

CHAPTER 20

Luke

Scout struts along behind two of his classmates, with the others following him. They’ve just finished singing the last of the three songs and have been officially welcomed to their final year of preschool. The kids, each of them barely over three feet tall, march along like giants, proud to be the biggest fish in the pond this year.

Once they’ve all marched out of view of the parents, I look around at the moms and dads, some surreptitiously wiping a tear, and swallow back my own.

“You did it,” Callie whispers, squeezing my arm. She doesn’t need to elaborate. I know she understands the achievement for Scout and for me.

I nod and stand up as the kids, now freed from their mandate to stay organized, run this way and that. Scout beelines to us and wraps his arms around my knees. Callie lets us have the moment before kneeling and offering Scout a hug.

When I look around at the other parents making a similar big deal out of their kids’ accomplishments, I’m surprised that it doesn’t feel at all strange to be celebrating Scout with Callie by my side. No one seems to be casting sideways glances, looking for a new bit of gossip to share about us.

We’re old news. As far as the parents around here are concerned, we’re a couple. Mission accomplished. For the first time in a while, I don’t feel worried about the custody battle. It feels good, and I don’t question it.

The various families peel off, headed for lunch in town or trips to the park, normal weekend activities. Some are probably headed back to work on their ranches.

Callie convinced me to let her plan something for the three of us after the ceremony, so when we reach the car, I hand her the keys. “I’ll let you do the honors.”

Scout talks a mile a minute, lobbing every possible question at Callie, trying to figure out where we’re going. She answers each one diplomatically, giving away nothing.