My throat got thick from the weight of her words. From the thought of what she would do if she knew about Izzy.
What she would do when she found out about Izzy . . . because I had to tell her.
She deserved to know what was happening in my life up until she came back into it—and even after. She deserved to know what Izzy meant to me, the same as Izzy had always known what Madison meant.
But how was I supposed to tell her when I was spending the day getting to know her daughter? How was I supposed to tell her when I had one more day with her before she left?
Didn’t matter that I knew Madison was coming back, there was a twisting in my gut at the thought of laying something so heavy between us before she left.
“So, I’m just sorry,” she said, pulling me from my spiraling thoughts.
“Don’t be,” I murmured, then cleared my throat and offered her a smile that felt forced. “Hey, I was thinking about today . . . would it be okay if I drove y’all, or is that too much?”
She blinked quickly at the shift in our conversation, her head tilting a bit. “To your place?”
“Yeah, I was thinking about taking y’all out to the orchard and showing her what the peaches look like before heading to see the animals.”
Her smile was slow and beautiful and got me right in the chest. “I’ve always loved that orchard.”
“I know.”
“I’m fine with it,” she said with a faint shrug. “But Avalee’s in a booster seat.”
“So, she sits on a phone book?” At her wide-eyed response, a laugh built deep in my chest. “Kidding, Mads. Let’s go put it in my truck.”
When she pointed at me, lips parted and words failing her, I grabbed her hand and pressed a swift kiss to the inside of her palm. “I know, I better watch it.”
“Better watch something,” she playfully whispered as she started backing out of the kitchen, keeping her amused stare on me.
“Your that?”
“Hunter Lee!” she hissed, all feigned offense and dancing eyes and looking like the best damn thing.
“Hey, my name’s Avalee!” her daughter exclaimed as she slipped her hand into mine again.
“No way?” I asked, slowing my steps as she swung our arms between us.
“Way.”
“Well, that’s good because I have some animals that said they wanted to meet an Avalee.”
“That’s me!” She bounced excitedly, then looked over to where Madison was matching our steps. “Did you hear that?” Without waiting for a response, she looked to me again. “Like, kitties and bunnies?”
“Uh . . . there are cats, yeah. But I have some goats and cows. A few pigs too.”
With each animal, she looked more ready to explode. “Oh my gosh,” she said, sounding a hell of a lot like her mom. “Mommy, can we go?”
“We’re about to, sweet girl. We have to get your seat in Hunter’s truck first.”
Madison hadn’t finished talking before Avalee took off for the kitchen again, all wild excitement. Calling for her grandparents and talking a mile a minute about the animals she was going to see.
When I faced Madison, she was pointing at me again. “That energy is all your fault with the mean chocolate milk.”
I gestured over my shoulder as I followed her through the house, a smile tugging at my mouth. “That’s a mini Madison, one hundred percent.”
“I was not that wild,” she maintained, southern drawl as thick as the day she left.
“Of course not.” I caught her waist and pulled her close, my lips faintly brushing across hers and drawing a gasp from her. “You were worse.” I barked out a laugh when she shoved me back, her bright laughter weaving through and warming my soul.
Her hand grasped mine just as I caught back up to her, and with one of her little dance moves, she’d fallen into my side with my arm wrapped around her. Looking up at me with all that glow and so much love that it stopped me.
“How much?” I asked softly.
Her smile shifted. Softened. She lifted her free hand to trail the tips of her fingers along my jaw, her eyes tracking the movement before meeting mine again. “More.”
I finished pulling one of Hunter’s shirts over my body early the next morning as I moved through his house, heading for the kitchen. My steps faltering when I found him at the island.
Hands gripping the edges.
Head hung low and slanted to the side, as if he was listening for something.
Looking so sad that it gripped at my chest, making me ache for him.
“You okay?”
His head snapped up and he straightened, looking surprised that I was standing just feet from him. “Hey,” he said roughly, clearing his throat.
“You okay?” I repeated when he didn’t say anything else.
“Yeah.” He rounded the island, reaching for me and pulling me close. “Sorry, just thinking.”
“Anything you wanna talk about?”
He cupped my face in his hands and tilted it back to press a slow, lingering kiss to my lips. “Not right now.”
“Yeah, okay . . .”
Our day with Avalee had been more than I ever could’ve hoped for.
Seeing her awe at the orchard and the way the peaches looked so early in the season. Her joy with Hunter’s animals as she renamed them and claimed them as her own. Her excitement as she taught Hunter to dance. All of it was pure and beautiful and perfect.
It was more.
After dinner at my parents’, Hunter and I had waited until Avalee was sleeping soundly before stealing away to his house. Spending the rest of the night wrapped up in each other. Drawing out every moment and pleasure until sleep claimed us.
But with the new day, the clock that loomed overhead seemed to be screaming its countdown. Reminding me I had such a short time left with Hunter before I had to go. I could only imagine his thoughts were in the same place.
“What were you doing out here?” I asked, letting my head fall to his bare chest.
After taking care of the animals, we’d taken a shower that had led to all kinds of wicked and amazing things. But when we got out, Hunter had wrapped me in a towel and said he’d be back.
He hadn’t come back.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly, squeezing me tighter to him before releasing me enough to gesture to what was on the island. “I came out to make coffee and just . . . spaced.”
I glanced at the empty French press before looking at him, eyebrows raised and a tease on my tongue. “That’s pretty fancy for you.”
“Is—” He cleared his throat, head shaking a bit. “My bookkeeper bought it. She hated the old coffee maker because she spent more time fixing it than making coffee.”
“And I bet you hated getting used to this,” I said, nodding to the French press.
A huff fell past his lips. “Took at least a year and a whole lotta threats to buy a regular one.”
Amusement wove through me and quickly died out when I saw the time on the stove’s clock. My alarm would be going off soon.
“I can get coffee later,” I said, trying like hell to keep the waver from my voice as I wove my fingers through his and began walking from the kitchen.
In an instant, the energy between us shifted—the need that always lingered coming alive and burning bright. Mixing with the pain of what was to come and the greatest love I’d ever known.