It’s an adorable home, white with blue shutters and a screened porch ready for plants. It has a small side garden where Tilly wants to plant wildflowers to bring butterflies. Mom hands over the security deposit and first month’s rent, cash from a hot pink, zippered make-up pouch she’s always used to collect her tip money.

“Welcome to The Marshes,” Wade says, shaking her hand again.

While they discuss the place and make move-in arrangements, Grady pulls me to the pier for a little us-time before he returns to the clinic. Bessie loiters nearby, gently hovering over the water amid the green muck, eyeing us suspiciously. Last week, Wade spotted her egg den on the other side of the swamp. Soon, gator babies will fill the swampy nursery, just in time for our new decking.

“Will you move in with them?” Grady asks, tucking his hands into the pockets of his scrubs. “I mean, I get it since you just got them back. I mean, hopefully, they’ll stay. You know what’s best, and I support you. But I’m here, too. I’d love to live with you. We could have last night every night. So, my offer still stands, regardless.”

A giggle slips out of me over his obvious nervousness, and I blush over memories of last night. Waking under the hovering trees, the air cold but warm against him felt heavenly. He really wants me to live with him. Already. His strong and sudden commitment to me is such a weird feeling. A good feeling, though, that I’m enjoying with caution. Who doesn’t long to feel this wanted?

He steps closer, slipping his hands around my waist and nuzzling my forehead. “You and me, babe… how ‘bout it?” he hums, making me giggle again.

Then, he sways softly in a gentle dance before dipping me. “I promise music and chess every night.”

“Oh, Grady Tripp, I like the sound of it. What else will you promise me?”

“Homemade meals, coffee every morning, free animal care, and unlimited cat treats, of course.”

“Of course, but sometimes a girl likes flowers.”

“Oh, I’ll get you flowers. And braid your hair,” he says, snuggling against me. “And let you have the remote.”

I laugh. “You won’t mind my obsession with PBS and British TV?”

“Nope. I encourage it, especially if it wins us words like numpty. As long as you’re okay with me, old-man drifting off to sleep watching nature shows.”

“Heck, no. I love it. Oh, Grady, we’re going to be the boringest couple ever,” I beam, leaning in for a kiss. “I can’t wait.”

“Is that a yes then?” he asks, kissing me again.

All the romantic wheels turning in my head come to a sudden, squealing stop. “Um, it’s a maybe?”

His eyes squint, considering me. “Did I forget to mention all the amazing sex you could possibly want?”