With a positive blood test in hand, I get in my Jeep and start the drive back out to Wishing Well Ranch.

As city streets morph into freeways that morph into country roads, I let my mind wander to how things have changed since the last time I drove out here. How I flew out here on a whim, wind in my hair and not a single responsibility on my radar.

Yeah. Things have changed. Drastically.

But I’m oddly at peace.

I’ve shed tears the last couple of days, and I am not a crier. I’ve made plans for myself, and I am not a planner. I have fresh perspective. Took the space I needed to process.

I’ve realized I’m better with Cade than I am without him. And I think he’s better with me too. I intend to tell him as much and then watch him roll his eyes at me.

It’s going to be so romantic.

As the drive wears on, I get lost in my thoughts and my anxiety grows. What-ifs pop into my head. I listen to the most upbeat ’80s music I can find and chew nervously on my nails, hoping that he wants this as much as I do. Hoping I haven’t made him feel stuck.

When I reach the long driveway, I put my Jeep in park and take some deep breaths and shift in my driver’s seat and start doing the drunk-girl pep talk again. Except I’m dead sober and my concerns are way bigger than if I look sweaty or stumble in front of a hot guy at the bar.

I’m a smart, capable adult. I have family and friends who love me. This is just another opportunity for me to start a new chapter in my life. I’m a hot fucking mess.

Shaking my head at myself, I put the Jeep back into drive and head straight for Cade’s little red house.

The little red house with a freshly poured sidewalk out front.

The little red house with a sweet dark-haired boy strumming his guitar on the front step.

The little red house with a man who makes my heart race and my cheeks heat just by scowling at me the way he is now.

And I have to wonder if it’s not a scowl at all. Because the expression is so full of love, so full of longing, that the muscles in my chest seize and I rush to park so that I can be out of this vehicle and breathing the same air as them.

My boys.

“Willa!” Luke’s quickly forgotten guitar rests on the step as he tears across the front lawn toward me. “I’m so glad you’re back!”