He looks away. “I sure know how to be an ass, don’t I?”
“You’ve really fine-tuned that quality. It’s impressive.”
“Hey, and here I thought I didn’t accomplish anything these past few years.”
Laughing, I bump him in the shoulder. “Your card was sweet, your short speech even sweeter. Did you mean it?”
“You know I fucking meant it.” He turns to look me in the eyes. “Listen, I know things have been up and down with me, but I’ve realized over the past few weeks that I like you . . . a lot. You’re a fucking smart-ass and sexy, but you get me like no one else has, and you make me happy.” He presses his hand to my cheek. “I like the man I am when I’m around you. Confident, content . . . courageous. You make me better in every way, and even though I’m an ass of a man, I’m also a smart man and I know when I’ve got a good thing in my life. You’re a good thing, Nora, and I’ll do pretty much anything to keep you around.”
Talk about kilig . . .
But I’ve never made it easy on him, so why would I start now? “Anything?”
“Anything.”
Smiling, I say, “Backflip into the lake and I’m yours.”
Before I can take my next breath, he’s standing and backflipping into the lake, shoes and all. Water splashes up at my legs as he surfaces with a giant smile on his face.
“I can’t believe you did that.”
“Believe it, babe. You’re mine now.” And then he reaches out and grabs me, pulling me into the lake with him. I go under, a yelp escaping my lips as I resurface and cling onto him.
“You are so dead,” I sputter, completely drenched. “I spent far too long on my hair today, and you just ruined it.”
“Nah, you’re always sexy to me.” He cups my cheek and grows serious. “You’re mine, right, Nora?”
I lean my forehead against his and nod. “Yours, Coop.”
And then, in dramatic fashion, he lifts my chin and presses a kiss to my lips.
And like in all the movies, I envision cameras swirling around us as I kiss him back.
Because he’s mine . . . all mine.
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
PALMER
“Can I speak with you?” I ask nervously.
“Of course, honey,” Mom says as she grabs Dad’s hand. “Where would you like to talk?”
“We can go inside. I’d rather not do it out here.”
“Very well.”
Together, we go inside the house and step into the living room. They take a seat on the couch, and I sit across from them on the coffee table.
“Are you enjoying the party?”
They both nod. “I can’t believe you three pulled this off,” Dad says, admiration in his voice.
“Ford was right: we’re stronger together, as a team. Just took a kick in the ass to realize it.” I look at Dad. “Thank you. We aren’t fully fixed, but we promised to make sure our relationships never get to where they were before. We actually missed each other.”
“That’s so wonderful to hear, and it’s obvious you were able to put your frustrations behind you and band together to pull this night off. It’s . . . it’s everything we could have dreamed of,” Mom says, her voice growing tight.
“It’s the perfect send-off for the house,” Dad adds.
I nod and take a deep breath. “I need to talk to you guys about something, and I need to preface it by saying, if I get emotional, I’m sorry in advance.” They sit there, intently listening, so I continue. “I’m sorry about the fire.” Their expressions soften as they realize what I’m about to talk about. “I know you know, and I know it’s the reason for the big disconnect between Cooper and Ford.” Mom opens her mouth to say something, but I stop her. “We already talked about it. Talked through it. Everything we were feeling, the anger, the resentment, it stemmed back to that. It’s okay. I accept it, but I owe you two an apology. A long-overdue apology. You deserved more from your daughter, much more. I not only allowed misconduct in your store, but I also lied to you about it and tried to make you believe that I was the one in danger, when really, I was the one who caused it all.”
“You should not shoulder the blame,” Dad says. He reaches over and takes Mom’s hand. “We spoke last night too, and we realized our hands-off approach, letting you three solve things on your own when you were younger, might not have been the best approach, especially with the fire.” Dad gets choked up, and Mom places her hand on top to show their connection.
“Your father and I feel as though we failed you three last night.”
“What? No.” I shake my head. “You didn’t fail us.”
“Let me explain,” Mom says. “We should have recognized the fear you three harbored. We should have paid attention during those last few years when you were still living with us. We should have seen the signs of how you were feeling with your brothers leaving. We should have recognized the slightly reckless behavior with the parties at the store. But instead of addressing the root of the problem, we were trying to teach you a lesson, and it was an example of misplaced parenting. After the fire, we should have said something to you. We should have addressed it.”
“But we were in shock,” Dad says. “We honestly at that point didn’t know how to handle the situation. Instead of stepping up into the parenting role we should have taken, we backed away and waited . . . and waited for you to say something. But resentment from your brothers built, anger grew, and then we lost control. We should have done something.”
Tears stream down my face. “I’m sorry I put you in that position. But you must know you two gave us the world: you gave us strength, and independence. I just wish I’d mirrored your strength more at the time.”
Dad nods. “Thank you, Palmer. But your strength to become something of your own is exactly what we would have dreamed for you.”
“But that’s not what I wanted.” I shake my head. “I wanted to be here, with you, help with the store. Stay where I grew up, where I’ve been comfortable. But instead, I ran. And I’m not going to line my apology with excuses, reasons why it happened. I’m just going to take the blame because the blame lies fully on me.” I take a deep breath. “I haven’t been honest with you for a while, and it’s because I’ve been trying to prove that I didn’t need this family to make it on my own. But really, I’m lost without this family. I didn’t come here for a blog piece—I came here because I have no place else to go. I don’t have any money, I’m out of a job, and I don’t have an apartment anymore because I couldn’t afford rent. You shouldn’t be proud of the person I became, because I’m at rock bottom.”
“Palmer—”
“No, Dad.” I shake my head. “Coming back here was my last resort. I freaked out about the house because yes, it means the world to me; the prospect of it being sold also scared me to death. I had no place to go, and my pride got in the way of telling the truth, so I went on a rampage to make everyone’s life hell instead.”
“Palmer, you know you can always ask for help,” Dad says.