Our lips touch, and in this moment the idea of leaving him again seems impossible. I know that I’ve never had dreams of settling down here, but with Grayson, it doesn’t feel like I’d be giving anything up.

I would have him.

I would have us.

I would have everything.

Delia, Stella, and Winnie keep giving each other weird looks as we eat at Jennie’s diner. I’ve been quiet, smiling and basking in the sense of calm I have.

“What?” I finally ask after another glance between them.

“You look different,” my sister notes.

“She looks happy,” Delia states.

“I’m just quiet.”

Winnie eyes me curiously. “Yeah, but you have this glow.”

I shrug. Earlier this morning, Grayson dropped me off at home, giving me a sweet kiss before telling me we’d talk later. He plans to spend the day with Melia, and then he and Jack are heading out for some training thing with the fire department.

As far as anyone knows, I was at home last night.

These three are nosy, though, so I need to give them something. “I guess I slept well.”

And then Stella groans. “Oh, God. You slept with Grayson! That’s why I had to keep Melia last night!”

I drop my sandwich, eyes wide and my cheeks on fire. “Shh! Are you crazy yelling that?”

“Well, did you?”

“I . . . what . . . I—” I am seriously the worst liar, and now there’s no way I can hide it.

“I knew it!” Stella says, slapping her hand on the table. “I knew it.”

Of course, the people in here heard her and are all staring at me. Mrs. Pruitt gives me a horrified look while covering her daughter’s ears as though it wasn’t already said. Fred, who is a permanent fixture on the end stool, laughs once before saying something that sounds like, “About damn time.” And then there’s a face I would’ve cut my arm off if it meant the person wouldn’t be standing there. Mr. Parkerson.

My eyes close, and I’m sure my face is beet red. Maybe he has headphones in and didn’t hear his daughter proclaim my sexual activity with his son last night. Maybe there’s not a chance in hell because he’s staring at me.

“What’s wrong?” Delia asks, and then she turns, seeing what I see. “Fuck. Stella, your dad is here.”

Her lips part as she reaches her hand out to me. “I’m so sorry. I’ll fix it. I just got excited, but I’ll handle him, I promise. Maybe he won’t come over.”

Yeah, right. He doesn’t leave because my luck is crap. Instead of walking out the door, he comes to the table. “Hi, girls.”

All four of us look up.

Stella is the first to say something. “Hello, Father.”

“Having a nice lunch?” he asks.