Lauryn let out a soft laugh, and the tension in my chest eased. It was over. The truth was out. And somehow, I still had the girl.
But as everyone chatted around us, I realized someone was missing. Blade. I turned and scanned the parking lot. Gone. I hadn’t seen him leave, and clearly no one else had either.
I rubbed the back of my neck, unsure what to make of it. Blade wasn’t the kind of guy to make a scene—or say much at all. He could be impossible to read. Maybe he was pissed. Maybe he was relieved. Maybe he just didn’t care.
Or maybe he cared more than he’d ever let on.
I sighed and turned back toward the others, slipping my arm around Lauryn’s waist. “For the record,” I said, meeting her eyes, “I’m done talking to any woman who isn’t you.”
Her eyes softened again. “Good. Because I’m the only one who knows the difference between you and Blade.”
I leaned down and kissed her—slow, grateful, and full of everything I didn’t know how to say out loud. She kissed me back like we had all the time in the world.
And I guessed maybe we did.
6
LAURYN
The Wildwood Valley Inn was officially open for business.
I stood near the front desk where I’d work every day as Bobbi’s guest relations manager, champagne glass in hand, watching the guests arrive and mingle. The little inn looked nothing like it had six months ago. The warped floorboards had been replaced. The wallpaper that once looked like it belonged in a haunted dollhouse was gone. Everything gleamed and smelled like pine and promise.
And somehow, despite all the hard work and stress and dust in places dust should never be, this had been fun. Mostly because of the man currently sliding an arm around my waist.
“Tell me the truth,” Trey murmured, his mouth brushing the shell of my ear. “Do I get hotter every time I fix something?”
I turned into him, my smile stretching wide. “You do.”
“And what about when I mop a floor?”
“Dangerously sexy.”
He gave me a mock-serious nod. “So if I start re-caulking the tub in our cabin tonight…”
I laughed and bumped his hip with mine. “Don’t tease me unless you mean it.”
His hand settled at my lower back, warm and familiar. Safe. God, I loved this man.
We hadn’t rushed anything. We still weren’t married—despite what literally everyone in this town expected. But we were living together in a small cabin on the edge of town, waking up tangled in each other, sharing coffee and kisses and the kind of quiet, joyful routine I’d never known I wanted.
It wasn’t a whirlwind anymore. It was better. It was real.
A few feet away, Bobbi clinked her glass with the back of a butter knife, commanding everyone’s attention like a general in a war zone made of florals and finger foods.
“Y’all,” she said, beaming at the crowd. “This place may be new and polished now, but it’s still ours. It’s still the Wildwood Valley Inn. It would be perfect for anyone thinking about getting married.” She turned toward us. “I happen to know a certain couple who looks mighty cozy right about now.”
Trey groaned beside me. “Here we go.”
Heads turned. All eyes found us.
“Oh no,” I whispered, lifting my glass in mock warning. “She’s doing it.”
“I’m just saying,” Bobbi continued, clearly delighted with herself, “it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if this place hosted its first wedding.”
“She’s relentless,” I muttered.
“I wonder who she means.” Trey raised his voice just enough to earn a few laughs from the crowd. Then, louder, he called, “Too bad there’s no banquet hall, Aunt Bobbi. Where would they even put a wedding in this place?”
