“Me too, pal. Me too,” I say as I wrap my arms around him. But my eyes fixate on his dad, who’s standing there, wearing a pair of jeans like a second skin, hands casually slung on his hips. Fucking hat turned backward.

A country boy who looks as good as Cade Eaton should be illegal.

But instead, he’s mine.

“Hi,” I breathe, unable to tear my eyes away.

“Hi, Red,” he replies but he doesn’t move. His son stays latched onto me like a little barnacle.

“How are you?”

His jaw pops as he stares back at me, and I get nervous. Maybe in doing what I thought was best for Cade, I shot myself in the foot.

But when he says, “Better now that you’re here,” I know that’s not true.

Giving Luke a little pat on the back, I say, “Luke, can you head inside for a few minutes? I need to have a private chat with your dad. And I’ll know if you’re eavesdropping.”

The sheepish grin he gifts me has me smiling back at him. His bright blue eyes, sun-kissed cheeks from a summer spent in the sun . . . I’ve never fallen harder or faster for a single person in the world than I have for Lucas Eaton.

“Okay. But first I want to show you the sidewalk we made.” He threads his small fingers through mine and pulls me off the gravel driveway to the freshly poured walkway. Like, I think it might actually still be wet.

When we get closer, the wet concrete confirms my suspicions. I can smell that chalky scent permeating the surrounding air, but it’s what’s decorating the walkway that stops me in my tracks.

There are shiny stones pressed into the concrete, laid out in the shapes of hearts, running the full length of the walkway.

“Plain was boring. So we decorated! They’re like that day we used chalk on the driveway at the main house!” Luke exclaims.

I peek up at Cade. “Like Valentine’s Day threw up everywhere?”

His lips twitch and he just nods.

“And then up here”—Luke drags me toward the house—“we wrote our initials inside the hearts.”

“I love that!” I exclaim, giving him a firm side hug.

He nods happily, biting at his lip, and looking so damn proud. “And this one is yours.” He points at a heart that’s right next to one with the initials C.E., except this one says W.E.

“My initials are W.G., bud.”

I give him another squeeze and he giggles. Cluelessly. “I know. But dad made that one. I told him the same thing.” My head snaps around to Cade, who still hasn’t moved but is staring at me like I might disappear if he blinks. “But he said they wouldn’t be for long.”