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Fear.
That’s a good thing, though. Fear is what men like Wilson respond to. If he’s really afraid, maybe he really won’t ever come back.
Wilson glances at Silas. “You too, huh?”
“Bye, Pop,” Silas says with a wave.
Wilson looks away. His jaw ticks the same way Nate’s does when he’s upset.
My heart breaks a little for the three of them—Nate, Silas, and their only surviving parent. As much as this is a win, it’s also an enormous loss.
But then I look at my brothers, who have opened the Twizzlers that now make their way around the room. I look at Mom, who’s standing on the other side of Nate, a hand on his shoulder.
You’re not my family anymore. She is.
Nate may be losing his dad, but he’s gaining a whole new family in the process. One that’s (mostly) functional.
Samuel extends his arm toward the door. “After you, Wilson.”
Nate’s dad glances at his son one last time. Then he turns and stalks out of the room, my brothers filing through the door after him.
The silence that follows is electric.
“He’s gone,” Silas says in disbelief, rising to his feet. “Holy shit, Nate, Dad is actually gone.”
Nate looks down at me, blinking, and drapes an arm across my shoulders. He doesn’t need to ask if Wilson’s gone for good. Our family will make sure he not only goes away but stays away too.
“You’re the one who pulled this off, you know,” Nate says.
I shake my head. “We did it together. All—what, eight of us?”
“Nine if you include me,” Chris chimes in.
“You’re definitely included,” Nate says, a smile breaking out on his face. It’s blinding in its hopefulness, a rising sun that promises a glorious new day. “Thank y’all. June, thank you for taking a chance on us.”
Mom grins. “We’re going to make lots of money together.” She nods at Nate and me. “And I hope the two of you make lots of babies.”
“On it,” I say, and laugh when Nate leans down for a loud, wet kiss.
“Y’all are gross,” Silas says. “It’s cute, but . . . yeah, how about a celebratory drink?”
“I’m in,” Mom says.
Chris claps his hands. “I’ll never turn down a dram from this distillery.”
Nate looks at me, eyes glittering with happy tears. “What do you say, Milly?”
“Yes,” I reply. “I say yes.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Nate
“Honey, I’m home!” I call, stepping through the cabin door.
I nearly trip over my own damn feet when I draw up short.
Hearts.
There are hearts everywhere. A curtain of paper hearts hangs from the kitchen doorway, and confetti hearts are strewn across the floor. Purple hearts and glittery hearts and pink ones too. Even Lucy’s decked out in a cupid costume, the little bow and arrow sticking out of her sides bouncing as she trots toward me. The costume is ridiculous, and it makes me laugh.
“Hey, you little love bug.” I lean down to scoop her into my arms. She immediately licks my chin. “Where’s your mommy?”
Lucy shoves her nose into my neck in reply.
Moving toward the kitchen, I catch a whiff of something delicious. Garlic. Rosemary. Onions sautéed in butter, red sauce that’s been bubbling on the stove all day.
I smile, my stomach rumbling. Milly’s making Italian for dinner. Perfect for a chilly February night like this.
Heading for the kitchen, I see she’s lit a fire in the tiny fireplace in the even tinier breakfast nook. Milly’s standing at the butcher block in the center of the room, carefully slicing a roll of fresh pasta into flour-dusted ribbons of pappardelle.
“Wow,” I say, setting the bottle of wine I picked up earlier today on the counter. “Have you been cooking all day?”
Milly glances up from her pasta and smiles. For a beat, I can’t breathe. She’s got flour on her cheek and a smear of something that looks like tomato sauce on the corner of her mouth. Her hair’s gathered in a messy knot on the top of her head, and she’s dressed in stretchy pants and a sweatshirt.
“Yup,” she replies. “Left work early and got started around lunch. Lucy and I have had a ball hanging out and sampling my Bolognese. Oh! Here, before I forget, I have your pipe and slippers.” Milly turns around to grab my slippers off the floor and a bowl off the counter. She offers both to me with a twinkle in her eye. “Get cozy, baby.”
We’ve been together for months now. Milly moved into my cabin not long after we gave Wilson the boot, but sometimes, I still can’t believe this woman is mine.
I still can’t believe I’m the lucky bastard who gets to come home to this—a beautiful girl hanging out in his kitchen on Valentine’s Day, comfy and chilled out and happy.
Can’t help it. I set down Lucy and go to Milly and crush my mouth to hers, gathering her against me by curling my arm around her waist. She gasps, her laughter catching in her throat when she feels the bulge in my pants.
