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If I went back to Dragonfly Lake, I would fight for him with everything I had.
But if he ultimately turned me down, would I still prefer small-town Tennessee life over what I had here in LA?
I had trouble catching my breath. I stopped by the counter that separated the living room from the minuscule kitchen and leaned both my arms on it, trying to breathe.
Because I was honest-to-god considering doing this.
I suspected Cash loved me even though we hadn’t said the words, but what did I really know?
Was I willing to throw away my golden opportunity with Stream to move to Dragonfly Lake? With or without Cash?
It would crush me if Cash said no, but I was already crushed to be here by myself.
Without my lake.
Without my inn.
Without my new friends.
Without a single chance with the man I loved.
Moving back to Tennessee would mean a life without hours of traffic, without a depressing, soulless apartment, without a solitary existence where I didn’t have close friends or people who cared about me.
Though my heart was in my throat, I knew what my answer was.
I wasn’t a gambler, but this was too important. I was going to take the highest-stakes risk of my life.
First things first. I took my phone out and tapped on my agent’s number before I lost my courage.
Chapter25
Ava
When I left my ex-husband, I’d walked away from our oversized, pretentious house with very little—by choice. I hadn’t needed all the crap that filled the five-thousand-square-foot place, and I hadn’t wanted the reminder of him or our life together.
If I’d ever had anyone visit me in my apartment, my lack of worldly possessions would’ve been glaringly obvious and slightly pathetic for a thirty-seven-year-old woman. My place was void of character and signs that someone lived there permanently. But now that I was packing what little I had to take east, it was as if this was how it was meant to be all along. It’d just taken me a while to see it.
A quick trip to the liquor store down the street had netted me some empty boxes, and I’d picked up a pile of those free shopper-type newspapers you never think about until you need packing paper for a move. I was wrapping my Target set of four dinner place settings and putting the last of it into a Tito’s vodka box when someone knocked on the door, startling me.
It was likely Aubrey or Audrey, in need of something she’d already packed or wanting to say goodbye, which would be weird but nice of her. I looked through the peephole and…
My heart screeched to a halt.
I looked again.
A couple seconds passed while my brain caught up with my eyes, and then my heart restarted out of sheer necessity, and then, my mouth likely gaping, I opened the door.
“Cash!” I resisted the urge to throw my arms around him because apparently my brain still hadn’t caught up. “What are you doing here?”
“I was worried you’d forget to eat.” He held up a takeout bag I hadn’t yet noticed because I was too busy taking in his handsome, familiar, beloved face.
He was smiling, and I couldn’tnottouch him for another second, despite my confusion. I threw my arms around his neck right there in the hallway, breathed in his scent, and let myself get lost in the moment. Cash wrapped one arm around me and lifted me with a moan that told me he was just as happy to see me and feel me and breathe me as I was him. He carried me through the doorway, set me down, then placed the food bag on the bar counter, which was right there. Everything was right there when your apartment was so small.
A dozen questions roared through my mind, but the thing that came out of my mouth was, “Lottie’s?” as I read it off the side of the bag. “I’ve never heard of it.”
“Southern cuisine. Closest place I could find that mentioned hummingbird cake online, and by close, I mean I would’ve been here an hour earlier if I hadn’t tracked down dinner—”
“And cake,” I said, my eyes filling with tears yet again.
