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“A few.”

“You promised not to go overboard!” I give him a light shove. “How. Many?”

“Would you like to know one of the stops, or would you like to know how many? You only get one answer,” he says. The man is infuriating. Impossible to crack.

Correction—almostimpossible to crack.

I step closer and tiptoe my fingers up his chest, finally reaching the bare skin above his collar. I slide my fingers around to the back of his neck and into his hair. “What if I throw in a kiss to sweeten the deal? Will you tell me how many stopsandgive me the first one?”

Archer sways toward me. I can tell he’s trying to hold it together, but he’s about to break. Stretching up, I place a kiss on his neck, just below his jawbone, and hear his sharp intake of breath.

With my lips still against his skin, I whisper, “Well?”

There’s no warning. He spins me so my back is to the wall again, surrounded by Archer. His hands bracket my head and his cheek brushes mine. Usually he keeps his face clean-shaven, but he decided he was going to try growing a beard while on our honeymoon. After asking my opinion of course.

I’m not sure how I’ll feel through all the itchy stages of it, but right now, the scratch of his stubble is really working for me.

“For one kiss from you right now, I would give up any secret. Reveal any thought. I’d trade the world for you, Willa. Don’t tempt me.”

I’m the one who’s tempted here. Or maybe we both are in equal amounts, which seems like the best foundation for a relationship.

Until the doorknob rattles and then there’s a loud knocking on the door. Archer sighs and his breath stirs my hair against my neck.

“Later,” he murmurs against my ear, a rough but tender promise, and I can hardly wait as he takes my hand and leads me out of the bathroom.

Not just for thelaterwhere he’ll probably pull me into a quiet corner of the lounge and kiss me or the plane ride to follow or wherever our destinations are, but thelaterof weeks and months and years to come.

I spend a lot of time thinking about our future, caught up in a constant state of anticipation.

When Sophie tried to tell me to stop wishing my life away, I couldn’t find a way to articulate why that’snotwhat I’m doing. I’m definitely enjoying the now. It’s just that for the first time since before Trey and before my agoraphobia, I have hope.

It’s not something I consciously realized I lost. But now, with Archer in my life and the ability to leave Serendipity Springs, I feel the hope expanding from where it had atrophied for so many years without me even realizing it.

When I look and think ahead, I’m simply exercising my hope muscles. Hope fills my current life with more meaning, more joy, more everything. I’m practically bursting at the seams to make room for all of it.

So,lateris my new favorite word.

“Hey.” I pull Archer to a stop near an unoccupied seating area in the corner.

His eyes are immediately on mine. Attentive. Focused. Curious. “Are you okay?”

I nod, biting my lip, like that can do anything to hold back my smile. “I’m great,” I tell him.

“Then why are you smiling while you also look like you’re about to cry?” His concern is so endearing, and it only makes all the emotion bubble up out of me more.

“I’m happy,” I say, my voice wobbling.

Archer pulls me into his arms, a tight, strong hug. “Please don’t cry, Willow.”

“They’re happy tears. Promise. I’m just …”

He waits, and after a moment, gently urges, “You just what?”

“I’m just really, really happy.”

Archer cups my face with both hands and presses a soft kiss to my lips. The sweetness of it makes me ache.

“Are you ready for your answer?” Archer asks. “It’s only fair now that I’ve kissed you.”

But I shake my head. “No. I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want you to tell me anything. I want everything to be a surprise. I like the anticipation and the wonder. All I need to know is that wherever it is we’re going, Archer, I’m with you.”