Every time I realize that I’m thinking this way—that Palmer might be an endgame kind of woman—I’m more assured that I’m right. She is. Quite frankly, I think I’m falling in love with her.

I’ve never felt this way before, so I’m not totally sure. I just know that the depths of my feelings for Palmer are deeper than I’ve ever had for another woman.

Palmer is not just beautiful or a good conversationalist. She’s not simply engaging or just fitting into my life conveniently. The thing with Palmer is that there’s not potential to develop something more. There just is more.

I love her honesty and the way she takes care of Ethan. I adore her heart and how she tries to do the right thing, even when it’s hard. She doesn’t need me or my fame or my money—I don’t think she even knows how much money I have. I don’t think she cares.

“You’re right,” I admit, looking at my mother. “I have to look at things that way too. And there are some things that I will have to take off the table if I leave here and go back to the West Coast.”

Mom stills and sets her mug on the table. “Are you talking about Palmer?”

A slow smile slips across my face. “Yeah. I am.”

She falls back in her chair. A mixture of relief and joy spills across her face. “Cole, I am delighted.”

“Well, temper that for a minute because we haven’t actually cemented anything.”

“Oh, like you have to cement things. You’re the most handsome, most brilliant man on the planet.” She looks around. “Besides your father,” she says, a little more loudly.

I laugh.

“I had to add that in case he can hear us,” she whispers, making me laugh even more. “But on a serious note, I’m not just happy about this because you’ll be with us. I’m thrilled because I think Palmer is a great young woman, and her son is perfectly spoilable.”

All I can do is shake my head. “Don’t go wedding planning yet. I have a couple of things to work out before this is a thing.”

“Well, you just go work them out because I’ve already committed to this.”

“I . . .” My voice trails off as my phone buzzes on the counter, next to the coffeepot. I walk over to it and see Palmer’s name on the screen. “Hang on, Mom.”

“Sure.”

I swipe the button and answer. “Hi, Palmer.”

“Hey, Cole.”

My insides twist. Something is amiss. I can hear it in her tone.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.