Maggie snorts. “Oh, he’s smooth.”
Addison rolls her eyes, but I see the smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. She’s trying not to let me win this one, but I’ve learned how to read her. One thing about Addison — she’s a puzzle I’ll never get tired of solving.
Maggie finally excuses herself to check on Cooper, leaving us alone in the sunroom. Addison’s expression softens in a way that always gets to me.
“Are you ever going to stop?” she asks, leaning against the railing beside me.
“Stop what?”
“Looking at me like that.”
“Probably not. So you’d better get used to it.”
She laughs softly, shaking her head, and for a second we just stand there, watching the lake glow under the fading sunlight.
“This feels... easy,” she says after a while, her voice quieter.
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Because I overthink everything. I plan every detail, every outcome. I didn’t think I’d know how to do... this. Us.” She reaches for my hand, running her thumb over the back of it.
“Addy, nobody knows how to do this perfectly. You just figure it out as you go.”
She looks up at me, and something in her eyes makes my chest feel like it’s about to burst. “We will have to, with all the family gatherings in the next few weeks!” she says, chuckling.
“Good,” I say. “And then there’s that trip to the Bermuda Islands.”
She tilts her chin up to kiss me.
The world fades away for a second, like it always does when I’m with her. It’s just us and the way her lips curve into a smile against mine.
When we finally pull back, she looks at me like she’s trying to memorize my face.
“You’re impossible,” she says, laughing.
“Maybe,” I say, brushing a strand of hair from her face, “but you’re stuck with me now.”
“I sure am, and I wouldn’t want it any other way,” she replies, and the way she says it makes me feel like I’ve just hit the game-winning home run.
Brett calls to us, “You two want to stop making the rest of us gag with all the cuteness and help set the table?”
Addison laughs and steps away from the railing, bumping my hip with hers as she passes. “Coming, Coach?”
I follow her.
We eat next to each other, elbows brushing. Addison leans into me when she laughs. Her foot bumps mine under the table more than once.
After dinner, Brett pulls out his guitar. He strums a few chords, and the first familiar notes of “Sweet Caroline” drift across the living room.
Maggie whoops. The kids join in with a chorus of “ba ba baa,” and even Addison sings along. I can’t stop smiling.
Addison glances over at me. “This is dangerously close to perfect.”
“Yeah,” I say, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “I’m feeling it too. This town… it grows on you.”
She nods slowly, eyes thoughtful. “Are you saying what I think you are? I’m happy to make some room for your clothes in my – I mean our – closet. Maybe a toothbrush too.”
I smirk.
