I run into Luke first as he hunts Willa down with a serious expression on his face. He instantly holds a finger over his mouth, signaling me to be quiet, like he didn’t just totally broadcast his location by calling out to her.

Crouching down, I pull him into a quick hug, needing to feel him—the beat of his heart, the little whoosh of his breath, his chubby cheek against my stubbled one.

“I love you, buddy,” I rasp out, feeling emotional.

“I love you too, Dad.” He pats my back. “But you’re going to make me lose.”

I chuckle. I’m sure Willa knows where he is. What he doesn’t know is he’s only going to catch her if she wants him to.

It seems crazy that I ever thought she wouldn’t be able to keep him safe, and now she’s done nothing but. Sure, his nannies and babysitters always watched him, but I don’t know if they’d have gone to bat for him the way Willa did today.

The way I would have in that same situation.

“I’ll go that way, see if we can track her down together. Divide and conquer.”

He bobs his head. “Yeah. Yeah. That’s a good plan.”

I give his hair a quick muss, pressing one more kiss to his head before he turns and darts away. I know we need to talk about what happened today, but now’s not the moment. I’m sure it will all come out when I lie down with him at bedtime.

I turn into the bales, heading in the opposite direction, the dry points of stray pieces scratching at my arms as I move in toward the center of the structure searching for Willa.

I hear the dull thump of small feet around me, Luke winding his way up and down the rows. Every sense feels elevated in here, the hay providing a sort of soundproofing, a privacy. The walls of it press in around me. It smells comforting.

It smells like nostalgia. I’m taken back to days when Beau and I would chase Rhett and our little sister Violet through here. Same field and everything.

To my right, I see a flash. Daylight blocked out for a moment before it shines through again. I turn and follow, knowing I’ve got her now.

My strides lengthen as I veer right, catching sight of her creeping along carefully.

“Red,” I whisper-shout.

Her head flips in my direction, her eyes twinkling. Because, if nothing else, Willa Grant is a shit disturber, waltzing into my life and complicating it without even trying. Looking all pleased with herself over it.

With a wink over her shoulder, she shoots off, running from me.

And something primal in me roars to life.

I chase her.