Chapter 15

fifteen

BECCA

It had only been a few weeks, but I felt like my surroundings were changing a little bit every day. In these early days of October, more colors were popping up in the mountains. Leaves going gold and orange and some so vibrantly red that I wanted to memorize the color. I snapped photos on my phone all the time. The urgency was there to catch every single phase of this transition and miss nothing.

All the lightning bugs had abandoned the area behind the tiny house and taken a bit of the whimsy along with it. The corn in the distant field had been harvested for feed, I'd been told, and even the pace of the farm had slowed somewhat. I still loved sitting on the back patio, wrapped up in my crocheted blanket, watching the stars wink into existence, but the days were growing shorter.

The weather was getting colder too. Nearly every morning that I went out to the farm, a warm blanket waited for me in Will's rolling desk chair beneath the Bake Shop's covered awning. I made sure to dress in several layers and to always wear a beanie. But most days, the sun shone bright and the tourists still flocked to Grandpappy's to buy their apples and, now, pumpkins and enjoy the entertainment on the farm.

It was hard to believe that this place would shift into holiday mode in a little over a month with Christmas trees for sale and "sleigh" rides to visit Santa. Mac told me that it was really just the same hayride setup they used in the fall but with twinkle lights and greenery decorating the trailer where the people would sit. It still sounded magical to me.

But I wouldn't be here for any of that. I wouldn't get to make s'mores around the bonfire. And I wouldn't get to buy peppermint bark in the General Store or try Maggie's famous hot chocolate. My plan was to return to Detroit right after Halloween, and I needed to stick to that. If I didn't, I'd never leave Kirby Falls. I didn't need to see the future to know that I'd just keep extending my stay indefinitely to keep from having to say goodbye to any of it. Maggie still wouldn't let me pay more than the utilities on the tiny house, but I knew that it was wrong to take advantage of her generosity. I couldn't very well abandon my life in Michigan, no matter how tempting the prospect.

One thing that had remained consistent in the last few weeks was Will. Ever since that movie in the park, I could count on seeing him at least once per day. It was like the standoffishness following our kiss had never happened. He'd sit down with me for breakfast or lunch, sometimes both, depending on how much time he had on his hands. Occasionally, we'd join Jordan and Chloe for a midday meal, but more often than not, Will would arrive early, and it would be just the two of us enjoying whatever Ms. Maggie whipped up.

We talked throughout the day, and Carl often spent time with me while Will was off putting out fires on the farm and assisting where he was needed. I saw him at Trivia Night at Trailview on Mondays. We made plans for drinks at Firefly, and we'd even gone on another hike—this time, a longer trek out to the waterfalls the town was named for.

Will and I were well and truly friends.

We talked a lot. I typically avoided my family stuff, opting instead to tell him all about Cece and Pippa and my life with Mrs. Walters. Will usually skirted around the professional baseball part of his history, but he'd told me funny stories about him and Jordan on the high school team together. And he often mentioned working with the current baseball kids at conditioning every week.

I wondered if Will even realized how much he enjoyed those sessions. It was clear to me that he loved it. Loved being immersed in the sport again. Loved working with the kids. Loved guiding and instructing and being a part of a team. I hoped he'd figure out that coaching might be an option for him, but I'd learned that you couldn't force Will into anything. So I'd kept my mouth shut in that regard and just listened.

Will kept bringing me four-leaf clovers. I now had sixteen little lucky charms pressed flat in my notebook. I didn't know what I'd do with them in the long term, but for now, I'd stopped using that planner as anything but a clover keeper. They were important to me. They'd be a special memory from my time at Grandpappy's and my time with Will.

I was kidding myself if I thought my more-than-friendly feelings were going anywhere. My innocent little baby crush had since graduated from high school and was currently applying for study-abroad programs. But I wasn't acting on those feelings. I was content to be a good friend and enjoy the time I had with Will. And if I got lost in daydreams where I shared the tiny house with a grumpy farmer and his cheese-loving dog, well, that was my own problem.

I had trouble sleeping last night, my anxious brain eager for attention before the sun was even up. I finally gave up around four in the morning and got up and showered. I worked on a few branding concepts I had on my schedule, but when the clock hit seven, I was ready to relocate from the tiny house to the Orchard Bake Shop. There was just something so welcoming about it. I enjoyed chatting with Maggie and Chloe in the mornings, and the coffee and pastries didn't hurt either. Plus, I was just a more productive person away from home. Even in Detroit, I often got distracted when I was alone and found it easier to focus on my tasks while working at a coffee shop or park.

Something I hadn't counted on, however, was how much the temperature had dropped overnight. I shivered as I zipped up my puffy jacket. I eyed the dark and gloomy sky as I walked, laptop bag in hand and yawning, over to the Bake Shop. My weather app hadn't mentioned any chance of rain, but this was shaping up to be one of the least hospitable days I'd experienced since landing in North Carolina back in August.

A chilly, overcast morning awaited me once the sun rose. And there, at my reserved picnic table, sat Will's navy-blue desk chair and thick blanket, ready to keep me warm.

I drank my cinnamon bun latte and ate my slice of pumpkin bread. My fingerless gloves kept my hands warm as I typed until midmorning when the wind picked up. Shivering, I tucked the gray fleece firmly under my thighs to ward off the chill. A more intelligent woman would pack it in and head back to the tiny house. I was even considering it myself.

I hadn't spied Will so far today. Normally, he would have popped into the Bake Shop for coffee by now. It wasn't until another frosty half hour had gone by before Carl came bounding up to me, eager for attention and ear rubs.

"Hey, bud. I missed you all morning. Where have you been?"

The dog didn't answer, but his whole body shook with excitement, and I took that to mean he'd missed me too.

I glanced up to see Will striding down the path from the direction of the General Store. He'd swapped out his ball cap for a maroon beanie. His dark hair curled around the edge of the fabric. He wore a tan work jacket with the collar turned up at his throat to block the wind. He caught sight of me and frowned.

I smiled. "Hi."

"What are you doing out here? You'll freeze."

"Not your best greeting," I teased. "But I suppose almost surprising me out of a tree was arguably worse."

Will ignored me and proceeded to circle my chair and grab the backrest.

"Whoa!" I flailed, grabbing the armrests as Will rolled me backward over the wooden planks of the Bake Shop's front porch. "What are you doing?"

"Warming you up."

Before I could protest, he wheeled me around the corner of the building to his office. He opened the door, and Carl zipped in, excited about whatever game the humans were playing. Then Will delivered me in my workplace chariot to the quiet interior of his small space. He pushed me right up to the desk and told me he'd be right back.

I sat in stunned silence before looking at Carl. "Your dad is so bossy."

Will came back into the room with my laptop and bag. "And you're going to catch pneumonia out there."

"I thought that was an old wives' tale," I countered with a raised eyebrow .

Will shot me a sharp look, and I wondered if he remembered repeating that phrase before he'd peeled the wet shirt off his rain-soaked body after we'd made out, right here in this very office, weeks ago. If he made the connection, he didn't comment on it. Instead, he carefully placed my computer on the desktop before me.

"I thought you'd stay home today," he finally said, straightening away.

"I'd rather be here," I said, feeling heat creep into my cheeks at the admission. "But I draw the line at stealing your entire office." I shifted the blanket aside and stood to emphasize my reluctance to be an inconvenience.

Already shaking his head, Will moved to intercept me. "I won't be here to use it. We're short-staffed today and have a surprisingly big crowd for a Tuesday in spite of the weather."

"I can't work in here, Will."

"Why not? I can turn the heat up if it's not warm enough."

"It's not fair to put you out. You're right, I should just pack up and head back to the tiny house."

Will reached out and gently snagged my wrist as I started to turn. "Stay. I want you to. And you can keep Carl company while I'm filling in at the General Store."

I did my best to ignore the way my stomach swooped at Will's casual touch. We were friends, and friends occasionally—innocently—touched. Every now and then, we leaned our shoulders against one another when I showed him something on my phone. I playfully swatted Will sometimes when he teased me. And there were times when the backs of our hands brushed when Will joined me on one of my daily walks around the farm. I wasn't surprised by Will's touch, but I sure was affected by it.

When I frowned up at him and made no move to return to my seat, Will gathered up my other wrist and encircled it with his warm, calloused fingers. "Stay. It'll make me feel better. And I'll come back when I get a chance and bring us lunch."

He was so close, and he smelled so good. The maple-sweet wood-smoke scent made me lean in closer .

There was a mischievous grin lurking beneath that dark beard. "Besides, there are a lot of kids running around today. I wouldn't want them to stumble upon one of your not-safe-for-work aliens or gargoyles or goat men doing something naughty on your computer screen."

"Is that right?" I asked mildly.

Will nodded, but his fingers tightened on my wrists as his smile finally let loose—like he knew I wanted to whack him on the stomach for teasing me.

"That only happened once," I argued as he pulled me in a little closer until the toes of our shoes touched. "And it was just the one big baby who saw the ogre in the hayloft."

He laughed, and I could feel his exhale. "Did you just call me a big baby?"

I grinned, butterflies rioting in my stomach. "Maybe."

There was something about the combination of Will being playful mixed with the way he wanted to take care of me. It made me careless and suddenly forgetful of the rules of friendship.

Without thinking, I turned my wrists within his grasp and laced my fingers through his. It felt as natural as breathing to slip my hands in his. And for his part, he curved his large hands around mine too, welcoming and sweet. I didn't realize the danger I was in until we were already leaning in toward one another, the smiles still on our faces.

Our lips met, and good sense still didn't kick in. Instead, I tasted the mint of Will's toothpaste and felt his beard tickle my cheek. Our hands untangled suddenly as Will wrapped me up in his arms. I snaked a hand beneath the back of his jacket and felt warm, smooth skin. He nipped my bottom lip in return, eliciting a sound from within me that broke the spell.

We froze, conscious of the fact that friends didn't put their tongues in each other's mouths. But we didn't pull away. Not yet.

I was still snug in Will's embrace, breathing the same air, my eyes good and closed, letting the daydream last a little longer.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, just as his forehead pressed gently to mine.

"Me too," he sighed, and I felt his mouth shape the quiet words .

Neither one of us moved to unwrap ourselves, so I finally ordered myself to get my hand out of Will's shirt. But on the way down, my nails scraped lightly against the firm line of his spine.

Will groaned out a needful sound, so I did it again.

I wasn't an idiot. I knew that keeping our distance was for the best. But I liked having my hands on Will, and I liked the tortured sound coming out of his throat as I scratched up and down his back. It was proof that I affected him as much as he affected me. I enjoyed getting those reluctant smiles out of the typically controlled man, but this reaction—this raw display—was even better. That groan, so deep and rough, gave me the confidence to ask for more.

My nipples tightened beneath all my layers, and I licked my lips. But Will was still right there , so I licked his lips too.

And then, despite our apologies, we were kissing again, harder and deeper than before. I felt my beanie tumble somewhere as a strong, sure hand threaded into my hair and another landed on the curve of my backside.

There was a relief in giving in. After weeks of being careful and controlled, I felt like I was catching my breath above rough water, taking a long, shuddering gasp as the weight of our actions settled with bone-deep clarity. I wanted this man, and temporary was never going to cut it.

But it was all we had.

I kept one hand on Will's back as the other reached around to take hold of his belt buckle. I felt Will's abdomen tighten reflexively against the backs of my fingers, all hot skin and coarse hair disappearing behind his jeans.

Will's grip on my behind urged us closer, and the hard length of his arousal pressed into my hip. His lips left mine, and I made an impatient sound, my grip tightening on the front waistband of his jeans. But before I could complain, I realized Will was placing open-mouthed kisses along my jaw and down the column of my throat. Fingers brushed my hair aside, and then he murmured, "You smell so fucking good. Right here," followed by a careful bite on the slope of my shoulder.

I wanted to say that he smelled good too. That I was addicted to the smoky-sweet scent that lingered on his skin and the blanket I inhaled like a lunatic. But the kisses on my neck turned hotter and wetter, and I couldn't articulate anything at all.

A needy tug on my ear followed by a whisper in Will's low voice, "Can I touch you, City Girl? Can I make you feel good?"

A shaky nod was all I could manage as Will's soft beard grazed my skin.

I was forced to remove my hands as Will gently guided my movements. I faced the side of the desk and placed two bracing hands on the smooth surface as I felt his large body move behind me. Will kept his attention on my neck, sucking and licking my skin there, but then I felt his strong hand working the buttons on my jeans.

A gentle scrape of teeth over my earlobe. "Okay?"

"Um. Yeah. Yes." I swallowed. I could feel my heart beating in my throat. Dreaming about Will and having his hands in my pants were two very different things. I was nervous and desperate and aching to touch him in return.

Will's clever fingers sneaked beneath the waistband of my underwear, and I widened my stance.

He made a rough noise as two digits discovered the moisture at my entrance. When those same two fingers glided easily up and over the tiny bundle of nerves where I was most sensitive, I arched reflexively, my backside pressing into the erection behind me.

Will's forehead dropped to my shoulder as he continued massaging my folds. Based on my increasingly inarticulate sounds, it didn't take him long to figure out I liked to have my clit touched but not directly. Those same maddening two fingers alternated between circling my pleasure button and rubbing up and down either side of my most sensitive spot.

Will was patient but insistent. I didn't feel rushed or manhandled. It was all building toward something. The kissing, the touching, the way I was held and supported. Will was there through it all—making me feel good and taken care of.

"Oh!" I sighed out a shuddering breath as the tension coiled tighter and tighter between my thighs. "Right there."

The fingers circling me picked up the pace, and I knew I was close—so very close. My hips worked in tandem with Will's persistent touch, my backside grazing his erection over and over as a result.

"Fuck," Will breathed, his exhale hot and welcome against my neck. Then he was kissing me, trailing a path from the side of my throat to the nape of my neck. When his teeth scraped over the sensitive skin just below my hairline, all that coiling pressure broke in a wave.

A low moan escaped my lips, and I squeezed my eyes shut.

Leaning my weight more firmly on the desk, I rode out the pulsing pleasure of my release.

Will's stroking fingers gentled and finally stopped.

I could imagine the sight we made. Me bent over the side of the desk, Will's large frame caging me in with one hand while the other snaked down the front of my unbuttoned jeans. I wanted a mirror. I wanted to tilt my head back and kiss him. I wanted to take Will in my hand and mouth and make him feel as good as he'd made me.

But before I could do any of that, the radio in his back pocket came to life, and Mac's voice filled the small room. "Will, I could use some backup at the pumpkin patch. There's a guy who looks like he's up to something, and I'm going to follow him."

"Jesus Christ," Will muttered before extracting himself from my underwear. With his other hand, he grabbed the radio and replied impatiently, "I'll be right there."

I took a moment to button my jeans, figuring sexy fun time was over for the moment. But I couldn't keep the satisfied smile off my face. That was, until I turned to face Will, who wore an expression best described as abject regret.

"Don't," I got the nerve to demand. "Don't apologize or say you wish it had never happened. Because I don't. I'm tired of tiptoeing around each other. I want to kiss you at Trivia Night, and I want to hold your hand when we walk through the dead sunflower field. And I'd really like to do what we just did and more in bed at the tiny house. I know it's not ideal, and it's not fair. But I want to be with you while I can. It's October, Will, and I'm only here for another month. I've spent all this time not kissing you. I really want to make up for that. "

Will's gray eyes were soft by the time I finished speaking. He'd set the radio on the desk and stepped forward to cup my cheek. After a tender kiss against my lips, he said, "I don't regret touching you. That's not possible. But we need to?—"

The walkie flared to life again, and Mac's panicked voice announced, "Will! I really need some help here. There is an ENTIRE NAKED FAMILY BEHIND THE TOOL SHED."

I met Will's wide, horrified gaze. Grabbing the radio, I thrust it in his hands. "Oh my gosh! Go!"

"I really do not want to."

And then I started to laugh. "Go help MacKenzie."

He sighed and took a step backward, bringing the walkie to his kiss-plump lips. "On my way, Mac."

I covered my mouth with my hand to contain my giggles. What in the world was going on behind the shed next to the pumpkin patch?

Will was at the door to the office, shaking his head. "Hey, we're talking about this later, okay?"

"Yes, please. I want all the details."

Will blinked and then huffed a surprised laugh. "No. You and me. We're talking about you and me later."

Grinning, I replied, "Oh, that. Sure. We'll discuss that too."

Shaking his head, Will reached for the doorknob, and then he was gone, off to rescue Mac and deal with whatever all that was. And we were going to talk about us . . . later. Hopefully, that meant there would be more kissing and more touching and less interruptions.

What was it about this office?

"They did what?" Pippa's blue eyes nearly bugged out of her head on the screen of my laptop .

We were in the middle of a three-way video call discussing this morning's events. Cece was in the upper left corner with a hand covering her mouth in shock.

I nodded, proud of myself for getting the beginning of the story out without spewing my red wine all over the couch. "Apparently, they were trying to get one of those family photos where you put a baby inside a pumpkin. But they wanted to include everyone. So they put the little baby in the pumpkin, had the toddler and the dad holding pumpkins in front of their, you know, nether regions. And the mom posed behind a hay bale to cover her lower half and holding up two small pumpkins in front of her boobs."

"Why did they do this on the farm?" Cece wondered before taking a sip of her own wine.

"I don't know. Maybe they didn't want to pay for the pumpkins or liked the farm's atmosphere. And they needed it to get the pumpkin family photo just right. I don't know."

"I thought you said it was cold there today?" Pippa asked.

I took a sip from my glass. "Oh, it is. But apparently, this was their last day in town, and they wouldn't have another opportunity."

"Lunatics." Cece shook her head incredulously.

It was all very ridiculous. I was glad that Mac had Will for backup. I couldn't imagine stumbling across a naked family of four trying to use a tripod and a self-timer to get the perfect photo op.

"They set everything up behind the shed. Maybe they hoped to be dressed and out of there before anyone noticed. Mac said the dad was acting shifty, and she followed him from the ticket booth," I explained.

"I bet she regrets that," Pippa said, twisting her long, dark hair into a bun as she spoke.

"I bet she'll have nightmares for the rest of her life," Cece amended with a cackle.

After what happened in Will's office, I'd stayed and worked for about an hour before I got worried and ventured over to the Bake Shop to see what was going on. Maggie and Chloe had been eager to share the story while Will and Mac were occupied with providing a statement to the police officers who'd been called to the scene. They figured the misguided family would be let off with a warning and a permanent Grandpappy's ban, but it still meant there had been a lot for Will to deal with.

Eventually, I'd gathered my things and Carl and retreated to the tiny house. I hadn't wanted the dog to be cooped up in the office if Will was occupied for the foreseeable future. I'd also left a note for Will and told him to come over to talk whenever he was ready.

It was now just after nine at night, and I figured Will had suffered a long day of interruptions while short-staffed. That, or he was willing to forfeit his dog in order to avoid a difficult conversation with me.

Getting frisky in Will's office hadn't been the plan. The plan had been pretty clear: stay friends, avoid hurting one another, and deny any sexy instincts where either one of us was concerned. Obviously, we'd failed, considering I'd had an unexpected orgasm with my pants still on.

I hadn't told my friends about the office incident, as I was now referring to it. Cece thought Will and I were crazy for going the friend route. She thought we should "seize the lay" as it were, and spend what little time I had in Kirby Falls exploring our physical relationship. Pippa hadn't expressed an opinion beyond telling me to be careful with my heart.

I wanted to talk to Will first. We'd been interrupted, and I didn't feel right sharing what had happened with my friends. Part of me was worried that Will would show up here for Carl and let me down easy, reiterating his desire to keep things platonic between us.

I didn't want that. I'd been truthful and upfront when I'd told Will I didn't regret what we'd done. I was tired of holding myself back. I wanted more . . . while I was here to have it.

"Hypothetically," I began, "would it be crazy if I thought about staying in Kirby Falls?"

"Like, extending your trip?" Cece asked, a frown drawing her dark eyebrows together.

Toying with the stem of my wineglass, I admitted, "No. Like if I relocated here from Detroit. "

I glanced at the screen in time to see my friends share a look with one another.

"What?" I straightened in my seat, uncurling my legs from beneath me. "What was that?"

Another wide-eyed expression passed between them before Cece said slowly, "We've just been, sort of, waiting for you to bring this up."

"Really?"

Pippa nodded. "Becca, you clearly love it there. You've sent us so many pictures. And they're all wonderful," she hastened to add.

"You're joining all these groups," Cece said. "Making friends. Really getting to know the town and the people. It's been obvious since the beginning that you love Kirby Falls. You fit, babe."

I'd been so careful, never letting myself consider the possibility of staying. Sure, I'd daydreamed about leaving my life in Detroit behind to make my time in North Carolina more permanent and lasting. But guilt usually followed swiftly on the heels of those dangerous thoughts. I had responsibilities back home. Heather needed me. I couldn't just up and leave Mrs. Walters's apartment either. She'd wanted so badly for me to have a place to call home that she'd left me hers when she died. Saying goodbye to her apartment would be like saying goodbye all over again to the one person who ever really cared about me.

Yet the temptation to give those daydreams room to grow was admittedly strong. My friends were right. I did love it here. I loved the land and the people, all the weird little quirks of this town that wasn't my own but somehow made me feel like I fit. Belonging was something I'd searched for my whole life. But I didn't know how to make the dream a reality.

"Talk to us, Becca." Pippa's gentle voice had me focusing on the screen.

"I am happy here." The confession felt like a punch to the gut. Admitting I was happy in Kirby Falls implied that I wasn't happy in Detroit. The two felt mutually exclusive, and in acknowledging the truth, I was shining a light on the things wrong with my life back home. I felt disloyal to my sister, who needed me and relied on me. And I felt disloyal to the memory of Mrs. Walters.

"I think that counts for something," Pippa replied.

Cece nodded. "That counts for a lot. "

"But it's too much, right?" I hedged. "Who goes somewhere on vacation and actually stays? I can't really uproot and just move here. Can I?"

"You can do whatever the hell you want," Cece replied emphatically. "You work from home. You could sell your apartment. Or rent it out," she quickly added, likely after seeing the way my face crumpled at the thought of selling Mrs. Walters's home. "You could make it work."

"But Heather?—"

"Heather is a grown-ass woman," Cece interjected firmly.

I knew how my friends felt about my sister. Pippa was more subtle in her disapproval, but Cece vehemently opposed my relationship with Heather. She thought I should cut her out of my life the way I'd excised my parents—for my own mental health and well-being.

And realistically, I knew that Heather used me. But the part of me drowning in survivor's guilt seemed to be louder than the self-aware side who knew that Heather only needed me for money.

"Has she been bugging you for cash while you've been in Kirby Falls?" Cece asked suddenly.

I looked away from the screen and picked up my wineglass, and Cece had her answer.

She made a rude sound. "Fuck that noise, Becca. I know you have this misplaced guilt where Heather is concerned, but it's not your job to pull her out of the gutter. She likes the gutter. She uses and abuses you. That is not a relationship, no matter how much you want it to be. Getting away from Detroit would be a good thing where your family is concerned."

Cece's face was flushed in anger, her brown skin heated beneath her cheeks. My friend was my champion, and I knew she meant well. But hard truths weren't easier to hear just because the volume was turned up.

I thought about the recent phone calls and the texts I'd ignored from Heather—two from earlier in the day demanding to know when I'd be back in the city. I didn't want to be someone who ran away from her problems. But at the same time, I didn't want to think about what would happen if my older sister knew my whereabouts. I didn't think she had the money or motivation to come all the way to North Carolina, but it was a fear I'd considered. Desperate people did desperate things.

My mind drifted to the two jobs I'd been fired from as a result of my sister's interference. The times she'd shown up at my high school dealing drugs to my classmates. The way she'd fed my anxiety until I had panic attacks.

A ruthless, selfish part of me didn't want her to ruin Kirby Falls too.

"Becca," Pippa said gently, drawing me out of my painful ruminations. "Consider what it would take to make the move to Kirby Falls. Make a pro/con list if you want. But don't rule it out because of some sense of obligation you feel toward your life in Detroit. You deserve to be happy, wherever that may be."

I blinked, nodding slowly along with my friend's words.

What if I stayed?

A little house and some land. Fireflies in my own backyard. Trivia Night on Mondays. Hiking and bird-watching. Friendships and potlucks. Festivals downtown and an everyday life that felt like it was meant to be.

Something desperate and hopeful pierced through the worry. Something I wanted. Something that looked a lot like happiness.

I risked a glance at where Carl's warm body pressed against my thigh.

A dog curled up beside me on the sofa. A man with a beard and a backward hat in my bed and branded across my heart.

The same man visible through the glass of my front door, the porch light illuminating his tall frame, preparing to knock.

"What is it?" Cece asked. "Your face just did a complicated gymnastics routine."

A moment later, Will's knuckles met the wood of the doorframe.

"Is someone there?" my friend gasped.

"Yes, hush. It's Will." I set the laptop aside, placing it on the other side of Carl who dozed on the center cushion.

I jumped up, ignoring Cece's squeals of delight and Pippa's face leaning so far forward that she was going to hit her nose on her tablet screen .

Opening the door, I smiled. "Hey."

"Hey. I got your note." Will swallowed, the movement pronounced along the strong column of his throat. I briefly wondered if he was nervous. If he could feel his heart beating wild and erratic, the way I could. "Thank you for looking after Carl."

At the mention of his name, the dog sighed heavily from his flopped-over position on the couch. We watched as he raised his head to greet his owner with a single tail thump before reclining once more.

"Well, that was some reception," Will mumbled, and I laughed softly. I loved that Will's dog felt so comfortable with me.

But then I noticed Will's gaze stray toward the laptop screen where my two friends were waving like dorks.

He straightened and shot me a glance before raising a hand in their direction. "Uh, hey."

Darting for the laptop, I heard Cece and Pippa speaking over one another rapidly, their voices emerging from the tiny speakers.

"Hi, Will! We've heard so much about you!"

"So nice to finally meet you."

"Our girl Becca is the best."

"You're our favorite lumbersnack!"

Cece's last comment before I snapped the lid shut seemed to echo around the room. Facing away from Will, I kept my eyes closed for a moment, hopeful that a wormhole to another dimension might open up beneath my feet. Maybe it would swallow the couch too so I'd have Carl for company in the alternate timeline.

My eyes opened when I felt Will pry the laptop out of my frantic, clutching hands. I risked a glance and found him grinning at me, the tips of his ears a delightful pink.

"Sorry about them," I said sheepishly .

"Don't be," he said, running an absent hand over Carl's head. "They seem fun, and they obviously care about you." I nodded. "And they clearly have great taste since I'm their favorite lumbersnack."

I groaned and hung my head.

Will's low laughter rumbled against me as he wrapped me up in a sudden hug.

Content to ignore that embarrassing encounter ever happened, I clutched the soft flannel at his waist and mumbled against his chest, "I'm sorry you had a crappy day with the nudists."

"You heard about what happened?" His hand was rubbing up and down my back.

"Yeah, Chloe and your mom gave me the scoop."

Shaking his head, I felt his beard brush the top of my head. "People are wild. You'd think I wouldn't be surprised at this point, but that was a first."

"I bet."

Will reached down to nudge Carl over and then tugged me down next to him on the sofa. "I figured I should come by so we could talk."

Nerves flooded my system. And so did images from this morning. Will's persistent touch. A slow slide into pleasure. Someone taking their time with me. How good it felt to be held by him. The fear and panic in his eyes afterward.

"Right."

Will picked up my hand and laced our fingers together, but his gray eyes stayed locked on mine. "I think you're right. I know I said being friends was probably best for both of us, but we sort of blew right by that line today. And I don't regret it, you know. Touching you felt inevitable."

Relief coursed through me at his admission. "I wanted you to. I want . . . you." Bravery was not my default. Asking for what I wanted didn't come naturally either, but the words emerged steady and strong. Likely because of the way Will was looking at me—like he wanted me too.

"So maybe we stop holding back and do what feels right." Will's gaze searched mine before he added, "While you're here. "

The conversation with my friends from moments ago pushed its way forward like a battering ram. The sweet encouragement from Chloe to make this place my home joined in the chorus. All those secret daydreams about picking up and planting roots in Kirby Falls coalesced in my mind, and I blurted, "I really want to stay."

Will's attention sharpened, and his lips parted as if he might speak.

But suddenly, I was the one talking, laying it all out there. "I love this town, and I've been happier here in the last six weeks than any time in my life. I don't know how to make it work, but I want it. And I'm not trying to scare you off." I realized this wasn't something I'd addressed with my friends. My brain was processing in real time the fact that I might come off as an insane clinger-wannabe girlfriend. "I don't want you to feel pressured. I'm not trying to pull a relationship out of you by moving to your town. God, that sounds crazy. I'm sorry?—"

My apology and instant mortified regret were interrupted when Will's lips met mine. A surprised squeak left me as his hands cradled my jaw, and he kissed me like he meant it.

He broke off just as suddenly and said, tone earnest, "Don't be sorry. I . . . want you to stay, Becca. I haven't said it because I didn't want to bring up something I had no business asking for. Your life is your own. I know things are complicated back in Detroit. But the possibility of you staying here in Kirby Falls is the best thing you could have said."

I could feel disbelief pinching my features. "Really?"

Will's thumbs stroked over my cheekbones and he smiled—just a bit before saying, "You fit here. You belong. Don't you feel it too?"

Sudden emotion filled my throat, and I couldn't speak, so I nodded instead—a jolting, broken thing within Will's calloused hold.

He kissed me again, and my eyelids fluttered closed. Relief and happiness warred with the constant tug of guilt telling me I didn't deserve any of this, not a place to call home nor the man beside me. That now that I'd put my desire to stay in Kirby Falls out into the universe, something or someone would come along to snatch it away. Or more likely, I wouldn't have the courage or the strength to actually go through with it .

"Will you stay tonight?" I said a short while later. "Just to sleep. You've had a wild day, and I'd really like it if you spent the night."

Will nodded and let me pull him to standing.

After a quick walk outside with Carl, Will returned with an old duffel bag slung over his shoulder. I could feel the night air, cold and clinging to his skin. When he slipped under the covers in boxer briefs and a white undershirt, I caught him casting a sly glance at my leggings and long-sleeved lounge top.

"What?" I asked, snuggling up to his side like we did this all the time. Contentment made me brave. And the way he was looking at me didn't hurt either.

Will turned off the lamp on the bedside table before bringing an arm around my shoulders and pulling me to his chest. "I was kind of hoping for the avocados."

I laughed, pressing my face to his tee shirt and twining my legs with his. "I can change," I said into the quiet darkness.

Tightening his hold, Will's lips grazed my temple as he replied simply, "No, don't. You're perfect."