“Score!” Through the window, I see Luke leap, a fist shooting up into the air over his head. The motion knocks his cowboy hat off, straight into the loose, dusty dirt.

Willa’s head tips back on a laugh before she crouches down and scoops it off the ground, dusting it off while saying something to Luke I can’t make out. Whatever it is, it makes him giggle.

She squats and places the hat on his head, giving it a little tug at the same moment the corners of her mouth pull up into the most infectious smile.

I find myself smiling at them from where I’m still sitting behind the wheel. Luke is grinning even wider. When Willa reaches forward and boops the tip of his nose, I see his smile soften and go a little wistful. He boops her back and they take a moment to just smile at each other.

Something in my chest cracks wide open as I watch them together. Kindred spirits in so many ways.

They turn to leave, and Luke slips his hand into Willa’s. They’re cute together. He’s dressed like a tiny cowboy, and she’s wearing a white, old-school Pepsi T-shirt, a belt that looks more like a chain, and her hair in loose waves down her back.

I imagine her wearing that belt and that belt only, but then my eyes travel down over her torturously tight jeans. The ones that display her ass like it’s the star of the show. The ones that flare out over a pair of snakeskin cowboy boots she borrowed from Summer.

I’m going to tell Summer to keep those on lockdown, because they look too fucking good on Willa.

She looks too fucking good. Period.

And I want to punch someone. Because based on all the turning heads, I’m not the only one who’s noticing how good she looks.

19

Willa

Rhett: Where you kids at?

Willa: Working on ruining our blood sugar. You?

Rhett: Jasper and I just pulled up. Wanna meet near Cade’s truck?

Willa: Sure, we’ll head your way.

Rhett: I’m supposed to tell you to be careful.

Willa: Of what?

Rhett: I think my brother’s words were: she’s clueless that a bunch of dumbass cowboys keep humping her leg when she walks past.

Willa: Cool, cool, cool. I’ll try not to trip while they do.

* * *

I wasn’t lying when I told Luke we were getting all the sugar. Being around Cade makes me want to drink, but that’s not an option when you’re taking care of a child. So I lean on sweet, sweet sugar.

“I can’t decide which flavor I like better,” Luke announces from beside me as we weave through the crowd.