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She startles at the sudden intrusion but relaxes almost instantly, sinking back into my hold. “You can’t leave; it’s your party.”
“Care to wager on that?” I say, spinning her around to face me. “I’ll bet you a hot tub that I can walk right out of here with no regrets.”
“A hot tub?” Willow deadpans while the others chuckle beside us.
“You heard me. I’ve been thinking we need one. I’m kind of partial to the warmth.”
“First, where would we fit a hot tub and… Nope, you know what, I’m not even going to go there.” She throws her hands in the air. “What do I get if I win?”
“What do you want?” I shrug.
“A house. There’s no place like home,” she jokes, quotingThe Wizard of Ozlike she’s started doing lately, always making her bets outrageous, trying to see how far I'll go. And the house one has come up a few times.
“Deal. I’ve got this in the bag. Hot tub, here we come.”
She rolls her eyes and turns to the others. “I guess we’re leaving,” she says exaggeratedly. “The man of the hour is out.”
“Bye all. I’ll see you for golf next week,” I joke to Tate. “You know, now that I’m a retired old man.”
While everyone laughs, I shoot Seth a pointed look, getting a subtle nod in return. Slipping my hand into Willow’s, I say goodbye again and guide her toward the door, waving to guests as I pass by.
“You’re really going to do this?” she asks, completely bewildered.
“Did you really think I’d behave otherwise?”
She huffs out a laugh. “No, I guess not. But Jesse, it’s only been a few hours. They haven’t even done speeches yet.”
“Even better. Come on.”
When we reach the door, Seth rushes over as planned, sliding to a halt in front of us. “Where are you going?”
“Home, Seth. Where else would I be going?”
“You can’t leave. We have speeches planned and there’s cake.”
“Ooh, I like cake.” Willow beams. “And houses. I like houses.”
I try not to smile as she plays right into my plan. “Fine. I’ll give you thirty minutes. But then I’m done.”
“Deal,” Seth says, holding back his smile until Willow turns her back on him.
Willow guides me back to the middle of the room, pointing toward the cake they’re wheeling out. “You’re lucky I’m nice, otherwise you’d owe me a house.”
“You mean you’re not going to hold me to it?” I mock surprise.
“Come on. As if I’d do that.”
When the excruciating speeches are finally done, and Willow’s full of cake, we make our escape, driving away with Willow behind the wheel. It took me a good two years to convince her to try driving here, but it still freaks her out. I offered to drive tonight but she insisted I was free to drink. To which I easily agreed. Not for the alcohol, but because it makes my plan so much more fun.
“Can you turn left up here?” I say when we’re almost to the apartment.
Willow’s eyes flash my way before she looks forward again, her face pinching in confusion. “Why?”
“I need to pick up a bottle of red; we’re celebrating.”
“We have plenty of red at home.”
Home. I still love when she calls it that. “It’s my retirement celebration. Humor me.”
