Page 6 of Hearts of Fairlake (Men of Fairlake #8)

SYLAS

"And you're absolutely sure this will be the last role you take?" Gina asked, her hands clasped gently in her lap as she eased her shoulders against the back of the plush chair opposite my own.

I let out a little laugh, shaking my head. "If there's one thing I can be sure of, it’s that there's not a lot in this life you can be sure of."

Her eyes twinkled in amusement. “A little contradictory but full of wisdom. You always know how to keep a conversation interesting."

That was why I liked Gina. She knew how to keep an interview light while probing for deeper, more insightful comments. She never threw a surprise hook and was exceptional at adapting her personality and the conversation to the person she was interviewing. She was a breath of fresh air in a world full of hard-hitting interviewers, gossip rags, and rumor mills.

"I wouldn't say that," I said, leaning back and trying not to look into the lights that would blind me. "But yes, as of now, this was the last role I'll ever take. Perhaps that might change in the future, perhaps not. What matters is that it's time for me to take the next real step in my life."

"Oh?" she asked, her face the perfect example of polite interest. "And what is next in the life of Goner?"

"That is the million-dollar question," I admitted with a smirk. I parted my hands and shrugged lightly. “The truth is, I don't have anything specific lined up. Not in terms of my career. Ever since my sister and I made it into the spotlight, it’s felt like all my life has been is lights, smoke, and a whole lot of glamor."

"Well, not completely," she said, looking mischievous as she leaned forward. "There was, of course, your unusually secret wedding last year."

I grinned. “True, true. Parts of my life have been quiet, peaceful, and without all the glitz and glam that most of my life has been filled with. My relationship, wedding, and now marriage to my husband are among those things. If anything, having that part of my life be so...normal is what led to this decision."

Acting had been great for a time, but it had never really been my passion; it was just something I enjoyed and made absurd amounts of money. Back then, I'd been so overwhelmed by the attention I had just...given in to it. I wouldn't pretend I disliked it. I'd always been a little attention-seeking, though considering the kind of attention I'd routinely received from my mother, that wasn't surprising. It was better to leave the humility to my twin sister, and I had easily fallen into the role of the charming, slightly roguish brother.

Eventually, though, that life had grown hollow. My mother was always pushing me to take on bigger roles even though it was obvious that when it came to acting, my sister had the lion's share of talent. My mother wished I’d taken the more PR-friendly approach, but that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. Plus, acting like myself was far more fun, with a little extra difficulty thrown on top to drive my mother crazy.

And just when I thought my life would be an endless procession of glamor and glitz, with all its increasingly hollow and transient pleasures...something strange and unexpected happened. Without knowing what I was setting myself up for, I dragged my best friend and personal assistant with me to some sleepy little town in the middle of Colorado. It was under the pretense of seeing about a custom cake for my sister's upcoming wedding, but in reality, it was a way for me to slip my mother's net and try to find somewhere, anywhere, to breathe.

That first meeting between Grant and I never gave the slightest clue that we'd end up where we were. Grant had never been that good with...well, peopling, and had immediately disliked me. It took weeks before the two of us began to peel away our defenses: my layers of false faces, tricky evasions, and his thick, stony walls and prickly protections. When those melted away, I found a wonderful sense of normality, a peace in my head and heart that I’d never known could exist.

"And was this decision brought about by said husband?" she asked, shaking me out of my reverie.

I laughed. “Are you asking if my husband somehow bullied or cajoled me into this?"

"No, absolutely not. I just wonder, and I'm sure others will too, how much he’s influenced this decision."

"Grant is an exceptionally private person, and he's uncomfortable with the attention I'm used to getting. That said, he had a good idea of what he was getting into by dating and then marrying me. He had definitely figured it out by the time of the nuptials," I smirked. "But, he’s never once asked me to do anything of this sort. All he's ever asked of me is that I try not to bring too much home with me."

"Home," Gina said with a smile. "Is that how you think of Fairlake, then?"

"One hundred percent," I answered immediately, smiling back at her. "Being here, in LA, has never been the long-term goal. I was here for the filming, the showing, and all the interviews, this being my last one."

"Though a few rumors were floating around that you caused issues with filming because you were returning to Fairlake."

"That...yeah, there were a few times I caused some problems there," I admitted with an easygoing shrug. "It's hard being away from him for long periods, and then it's even harder to leave him to come back. I don't have to worry anymore. In less than twelve hours, I'll be back in Fairlake, where I belong."

"You've spoken very little of your time in Fairlake," Gina noted, tilting her head slightly. "In fact, many have noted that in your interviews over the past few years. And you've spoken only slightly more about the man you're married to. Why is that?"

"Selfishness," I admitted with another grin. "I don't savor sharing that part of my life because it feels more mine than anything I've ever had."

Gina chuckled. “It also probably doesn't hurt that many people, especially journalists, have reported that it’s unusually difficult to speak to you while you're in the town."

"Have they?" I asked, doing my best to sound as innocent as possible. "Interesting. I'd always wondered why I had so many quiet, peaceful days even when people knew where I was. "

Gina arched a brow. “Something tells me you know exactly what I'm talking about."

"I wouldn't lie to you, Gina," I lied.

"Of course," she said with a laugh. "I suppose if you haven't spoken about it before, then you won't now. You can't blame a girl for trying to solve the mystery as you're on your way out the proverbial door."

It wasn't a mystery. At least it wasn't mysterious, just unknown to most people. The people of Fairlake were...different, and they were fond of taking care of their own. When it became obvious that the famous Goner was with the local town's favorite beloved baker for real, they quickly began to include me in their circle of trust. They paid me in that trust by being as absurdly unhelpful as possible whenever someone came looking for me. After all, those allowed easy access to me knew how to do that without being obvious.

I didn't know the full extent of what the townspeople did, but I knew when people showed up looking for me, they were often given vaguely worded answers and directions, outright lied to, and sometimes stonewalled. One of my favorite examples was when a paparazzi had car troubles and tried to ask about my whereabouts.

The problem for that poor man was Chase was working that day. I didn't know him as well as others in the town, but considering his boyfriend, Devin, had worked for Grant for years, I’d learned plenty about Chase through osmosis and the occasional interaction. You wouldn't know it from his gruff behavior, but he was like the other people in Fairlake. The difference between him and the rest, though, was that he had no problem telling the paparazzi to shove his questions along with his phone right up his ass, far enough that he would choke on it. He then promptly told the guy a ridiculously high price for the repairs, and he could get a tow truck from somewhere else to come get his car and fix it elsewhere if that was a problem.

So, maybe I knew a thing or two about why people struggled to reach me.

"And is it your hope that with this retirement, you'll finally find true peace at home?" Gina asked.

"I'm sure it will take a little while for things to die down completely," I admitted with a shrug. "And we'll weather that settling down process together. Neither of us has any illusions about how easy that will be. Lord knows 'retirement' can sound like blood in the water for certain sharks."

"I take it recent rumors have, in fact, found their way to your ears."

"You could say that," I said with a chuckle. "I know plenty of people have speculated that I'm retiring because of pressure from someone. Or that I'm off to rehab but don't want to admit it, which is idiotic. Everyone already knows I share a border with a bad boy image. Why would rehab look bad? And why would it require me to retire? But no, I'm content to let people run the rumor mill all they want. As you said, I'm on my way out the door, and I will close it behind me and let them whisper behind it."

"Well, I, for one, am happy for you," Gina said, and if it had been anyone else, I would have thought it was a nicety because she had an image as the sweet journalist. The thing was, she had that reputation because she was genuinely sweet and cared about people. "And by all accounts, your family is as well."

"It wasn't unexpected. I've been talking about it for years, so I can't say they were shocked when I made the announcement," I told her with a chuckle. "And they agree that a change in pace would be good for me. It's been no secret with them that I've been feeling a little stagnant."

That was leaving out the details to such a degree that it was probably outright lying, but I'd been doing that for as long as I'd been famous when it came to my family. My sister was happy for me, over the moon and back again, in fact. My dad had been such a nonentity in my life I doubted he even cared what any of us did, so long as he was left alone to drink, play golf, and screw around in his workshop fixing antique furniture.

No, no, it was my mother who was displeased, but that was an old, familiar feeling. She thought it stupid that I would 'throw away' my career, and for what? Why, the love of my life, a man who she most certainly despised with all her being. Of course, she couldn't express that dislike or do anything about it. For a woman like Celia Goner, being unable to take her dislike and fury out on someone was like depriving a gluttonous man of his meal, absolute torture.

Yet she kept in mind the threats I’d laid at her feet years ago when she tried to sabotage my relationship by threatening Grant and his older brother, Felix. For the first time, I found the motivation to do more than just spite my mother; I wanted to fight back with all I had. Of course, it would have scorched the earth if I’d been forced to follow through on my threats, but I was prepared to breathe in the smoke if she tried to call my bluff. She hadn't then and never showed signs of trying to call it now. My mother was many things, awful things in fact, but she wasn't stupid, and for the only time in my life, she had listened and believed me.

So yes, she was furious with my refusal to keep up the charade of the happy, healthy, actively working Goner family, but she knew to keep her mouth shut. Plus, as always, she had my sister and her new family to help the family's name stay in the headlines.

"Well, I think that's all the time I'm going to keep you for," Gina said with a smile. "You've been a fantastic guest, as always. Is there anything else you want to add? "

"I think that covers everything," I said, crossing my arms. "This would have been the one spot I would have chosen to bid farewell, so I'm glad you took the time to have me."

She beamed at me. “That's sweet of you, . Sweeter than before. I guess love really has changed a few things."

"Not everything, but yes, some things," I said with a wink.

"Alright," she turned toward the camera to her left. "And that covers everything. This was Goner's final, heartfelt goodbye. Be sure to see his final role in his latest and last film, Moonlit, and let's all wish him well in the next stage of his life."

"And...done," a voice rose from the back.

I let out a deep breath, flopping back in the seat. "You know, Gina, I love being here with you and all but shit, that felt like letting out the biggest breath of my life."

Gina chuckled, pushing to her feet. "You always looked so antsy when you interviewed, but this was the first time I felt you were looking for the nearest door."

I smiled as I stood up. "I meant what I said. If I was going to do a final interview, it would have been with you."

"And I meant it when I said I wish you well," she said, taking my hand and giving a light squeeze. "I admittedly would have loved a chance to meet this husband of yours, but?—"

"But there's no way in hell I’d drag him to LA to do an interview, which would be somewhere in the top five horrifying nightmares he's probably had," I said with a shake of my head. "I torture him enough just by being me."

She laughed, patting the top of my hand. "That was just the businesswoman in me thinking aloud. The woman in me says you need to get to Fairlake as soon as possible and spend the next couple of weeks locked away from the world together. Enjoy what you have, . Not many celebrities get the chance to sneak away without a lot of fuss or scandal at their back. And they certainly don't get to look forward to the quiet retirement that seems to be waiting for you."

"Tell me about it. I'm a lucky man," I grinned.

Her eyes twinkled. “You sure seem to be. Now, how long do you think I have before your mother calls in to make sure she gets to see the footage before we push it live?"

My mother's reputation with the public was pretty sparkly clean for the most part but in the industry? She was an open secret, kept secret only because Hollywood wasn't fond of stirring things up too much if they could help it. There were a lot of foul things buried under all the glamor and smiles, and if you tried to kick one thing to the surface, you risked a lot of other things coming to light as well, which most of them did not want.

"You shouldn't have to worry about that," I said with a wink. "I negotiated a long time ago that as soon as this movie was done, she could no longer touch anything of mine. It goes directly under my control without interference. I'm sure you'll find a way to remind her of that without pissing her off completely."

"Free, retired, and in love," Gina chuckled. "I'm glad. Take care of yourself, ."

"You as well," I smiled as she let go of my hand and walked off, calling out for the editing team so she could look over the footage with them.

Walking out of the studio, I pulled out my phone and looked at the unread messages. There were a few from my mother, which I promptly ignored, one from Grant, telling me he’d be working late and that he loved me, and one from my sister to inform me she and her family had arrived in Fairlake safely, and one from Luke, demanding to know when my ass was going to be ready to get picked up.

Snorting, I rolled my eyes and hit the button to call him. It took three rings before he answered with a rather breathless, “Yeah?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," I said with a grin as I walked toward the elevator. "Did I interrupt you?"

"Interrupt me?"

"Or should I say, interrupt you and Felix?"

"Jesus," he muttered. "Did you call to antagonize me about my boyfriend?"

"I do recall you getting married about eight months ago."

"Seven," he corrected instantly, and I smiled at the happiness in his voice. "And now I'm getting a dirty look because I forgot to call him my husband. He is my husband, and I'm very happy about that."

There was a pause as I smirked. “Did that get you out of the dog house?"

"Pretty sure I'm going to suffer for that lapse at some point," he said with a snort. "But I'm okay with that."

"I bet you are," I said, feeling homesick, not just for Grant, but for Luke and Felix. Grant and Felix had a...complicated relationship growing up. The two of them had always seemed to gravitate around one another constantly, for good or bad. Felix had always had difficulty coping with their shared past, while Grant locked himself down and did everything he could to keep control. The two different reactions to their lives had driven them apart even as they still slammed into one another.

Now, though, the two had developed a far healthier attitude toward each other and themselves. Grant had to learn to let go of control, while Felix had to learn to take care of himself and stop letting everything around him fall apart. It could be said that Luke and I had helped, but ultimately, their choices and effortsmade the difference. So, it was nice that my brother-in-law also happened to be married to my best friend .

"Just called to tell you I'm leaving the studio as we speak," I told him as I pressed the ground floor button and watched the doors slide closed. "Which...well, you know what that means."

"Yeah, I've driven your lazy ass along that path enough times," he said with a chuckle.

"Oh, be honest, you miss it some days."

"Being at your beck and call? Making sure you're on time and setting up your schedule?"

"Ah, don't forget fielding calls from my mother."

"Okay, at first, I was going to say I missed it at times, but that last one? You can keep that one."

I chuckled. “Fair enough. Uh...how's he been?"

"You've been gone for almost a month this time. How do you think he is?"

"Well, without seeing him myself, it's hard to tell. You know how difficult he can be."

"Not as much as you should know," he said with a sigh. "And he's been...well, he's been Grant. Just...more Grant than usual."

"Were it anyone else, that would be inappropriately vague," I said with a roll of my eyes. "But since this is Grant we're talking about, I think I know what that means."

"Mhmm, but Felix says he's not actually going 'dark side' again. I'm not even sure what dark side Grant is supposed to look like."

I thought of how he was at the beginning of our relationship and grunted. “I've got a few ideas."

"He misses you, even I can tell that much."

"Well, here's hoping my flight doesn't get delayed," I said, feeling an ache in my chest. Even when someone like Luke, who knew Grant well as a person and, in the last couple of years, as a boss, could see Grant was upset, it was noticeable. I wanted nothing more than to curl up beside him on the couch, breathing in the smell of dough and flour that clung to him like a perfume.

"And what do you think are the chances of that?"

"Ah, the skies haven't been bad lately. It shouldn't be a problem."

It was, in fact, a problem.

With a groan, I slumped in the passenger seat and stared out the window as we finally passed through the quiet streets of Fairlake. It was nearly four in the morning, and I was exhausted and feeling like absolute shit. Not only had Grant been forced to go through another night without me, but I'd had to drag Luke out of bed to drive down to Denver to grab me from the airport.

"Having a good time over there?" Luke asked as he turned onto the street that would eventually take us to Grant's house, tucked away at the far reaches of Fairlake's municipal boundary.

Our house.

I looked over at his colorful pajama pants, the rumpled shirt, and the slippers he'd left on the floor while he drove barefoot. “You look like you rolled out of bed and walked out the door."

"That's precisely what I did," he said with a throaty chuckle. "No point getting dressed for the day. I'm not due in until noon, so I'm staying in bed, and Felix is staying there with me."

"Decorum would be one good reason."

"And when in the hell did you ever care about decorum?"

"That was always your job."

"My job used to be taking care of you like an adult babysitter," he said with a smirk as he turned onto a back road. "But now I have another job."

"You just couldn't wait to leave me," I said with a smirk, knowing that wasn't the case.

"It's probably a good thing I left before you inevitably retired. Otherwise, where would I be?"

"What? I could always use a personal assistant, especially one as good as you. Otherwise, I'm going to be depending on myself and my husband to keep things organized."

"Yeah, maybe it's time for you to be a big boy and take care of your own shit."

"I think I can manage."

"Let's be honest, it's going to be Grant that manages, not you."

"Yeah, well, fuck you too."

Luke chuckled, sliding his hand over to squeeze my knee. “Why don't we leave that to the expert?"

"You know, I never much minded when you touched me before," I said wryly. "But now you've been officially converted to the Church of Dick, you touching me is weird."

"Don't worry," he said, patting my knee before pulling away. "There's no one on this planet I want to sleep with other than the man waiting for me at home. Your butthole is safe."

"Bold of you to assume it would be my ass getting used," I said with a snort. "You scream bottom."

"Felix informs me I'm what he calls a 'power top.' I didn't ask what that meant because he was...well, we were occupied."

"It means I’ve learned things about my best friend against my will."

"I've seen you, balls deep in people. I don't think you get to play the victim card."

"Maybe Felix should thank me. "

"For what?" he asked, glancing at me sidelong warily.

"Well, if you hadn't seen an expert in action, you might not have been prepared for the transition to sleeping with guys."

"I will absolutely tell him you said that, and then I'm going to call you and let you listen to how hard and for how long he laughs hysterically."

"Well, that's...rude."

"You'll live," he said with a smirk, stopping the car. "Now get out of my car and go find your husband so I can go home and curl up with mine."

"Look at us," I said fondly, getting out of the car. "Both so wonderfully domesticated. Neither of us was any good whatsoever at relationships, but here we are, happily married and desperate to be home."

"It's called getting older," he said, giving me a smirk. "Now go loosen Grant back up. He was never a difficult boss before, but apparently, he's as human as the rest of us, and going without getting laid isn't doing him any good."

"I'm so telling him you said that," I chuckled as I grabbed my bags from the backseat and closed the door. "That'll be an interesting workday afterward."

"Long before I accepted the job offer, he made me promise that while we were both on the clock, our relationship would remain purely professional. He has never broken that in two years, and neither have I...but he’ll probably have something awkward waiting for me after my shift."

"Let's find out," I said with a wink, closing the door before he could reply with more than a scowl.

I waved at him as I brought out my phone to turn off the alarm before unlocking the door and letting myself in. The air was a little stuffy, immediately telling me he hadn't spent much time at home lately. Admittedly, he was planning for the upcoming festival and all that involved, but something told me it was more than that. Of the three locations his bakery operated out of, the one in Fairlake was one of two safe places he would retreat to when he wanted a break from the world. His home, especially when it had become our home, was another, and the distinct lack of food smells was a sign he’d been avoiding our home.

With a sigh, I sat my stuff on the counter and approached our bedroom, stopping when I saw something on the living room floor. After letting my eyes adjust to the dark, I saw a single sock on the floor next to the couch. There was no way in hell Grant would have left that sitting around before going to bed. I stepped down into the living room and peered over the back of the couch, chest tightening, when I found Grant asleep on his back.

Now I definitely knew he hadn't been staying in the house because here he was, avoiding using the bedroom. The last of my time in LA was a series of extended visits, and this last one, which lasted over a month, must have been too much. We knew something like this could happen after we talked about me taking a final role, and we’d braced for it. Even then, I felt guilt twist my gut as I looked down at him, wondering how often he'd spent nights on the couch because he couldn't face sleeping alone in our shared bed.

I gently let my fingers run over his arm, making him stir as I rounded the couch and sat on the chair across from him. I desperately wanted to sit beside him, to feel him pushed up against me after so long. But I’d learned from the first few times we’d been separated that it didn't matter how much either of us had missed the other, Grant always needed time to get back into the flow of things. It was part of who he was and something I’d learned to accept and try to find ways to work with.

His eyes fluttered open, his fingers flexing as he stretched. Then, he froze as he saw me on the chair, watching him. I would bet good money that although he’d known I could show up before he woke, considering I’d kept him updated on my flight problems, he was still startled to see me. Even with all the strides he and his brother had made to move on from their past, there would always be scars left behind. Sometimes, those scars still ached, and sometimes, they summoned demons that would never truly go away.

He unfroze, finishing his stretch but never taking his eyes off me. I could see him looking me over, either soaking in the sight of me or trying to confirm I was really there. After a moment, he gave a heavy yawn and pushed upright, so he sat at the edge of the couch and continued to stare at me.

"You're late," he said, his voice rough from sleep.

"Eh, more like the planes were late. I was on time. Hell, I was super early," I told him with a chuckle. "But even with all the money and fame in the world, there's not much you can do about an unexpected storm...well, the storms were expected, but how strong they were wasn't."

"You can't control nature," he said, and while it might sound like he was reminding me of that to some people, he was, in fact, agreeing with me. The worst part was I couldn’t tell anyone how to look for the difference. It was something that came to me intuitively. Sometimes, the lines of delineation when it came to Grant were easy to see; other times, you simply had to be around him and learn as you went. "I can smell Luke on you. Didn't you take an Uber?"

"He insisted," I said, again not batting an eye at the comment about Luke. It might be strange to some people that Grant would put the effort into knowing what another man smelled like and say it aloud. The first didn’t take effort. His mind latched onto details the rest of us ignored or trained ourselves not to notice. As for the second, well, Grant's ideas of what was and wasn’t appropriate were different from most people's; you just learned to navigate them. "Literally insisted, even when I told him it would be hours before I could leave. Pretty sure he missed me."

"He did," Grant said with a nod. "And so did I. Quite a lot. Sometimes, it surprised me how much I missed you. Especially when I couldn't sleep in our bed anymore because it didn't smell like you. That's how long you were gone."

Ah, that made me ache, and I yearned to reach out to him, but I maintained a respectful distance. He needed to be the one to cross the distance, especially if he was upset. "I'm sorry. I missed you too."

"You did."

"I...yes, I did, though I wasn't expecting you to say it."

"I saw part of your interview."

"Interview? Wait, the one I did with Gina? I thought that wasn't supposed to go live for another day or two."

"They released parts of it for people to see. A couple of parts were you talking about here...and me. And you had that look on your face."

"Er, sweetheart, you might restrict yourself to only about ten facial expressions, but I definitely have a lot more than that. You'll have to be more specific."

"I used to see it sometimes...very rarely. It was always when you and I were alone, and you talked about your mother or your childhood."

"I looked pissed?"

"No, you looked sad...heartbroken."

I flinched. “Oh."

"I hurt you."

"No, it's..." I took a deep breath, never prepared to speak openly about my feelings, but hell, this was Grant. Not only did I learn to expect the unexpected, but I didn't want to shut him out. "Sometimes I don't like to think about my mom and how much all that...sucks. It's easier to be angry with her, to spite her, than to admit what she does still hurts, even after all this time."

"She's your mother," he said softly. "Of course it hurts. It still bothers me what my parents did, what they tried to do. It's not wrong to expect that your parents should be someone you can trust not to hurt you."

"And it's a common, sad story that at least one of them isn't like that," I said with a sigh, thinking of my mother, who hurt me with her actions, and my father through his inaction. "And I'm sorry if seeing that upset you."

"Well, it made me happy too."

"Did it?"

"Yes. I don't like knowing you're upset, but it was nice to see it for myself."

"What's that?"

"That you love me. That you missed me."

"I could have told you that and did...repeatedly."

"Yes," he agreed but still frowned. "But I miss things, a lot. Even with you, I don't always...see things like others do. So it's nice to see those things without you trying to find a way to get me to understand. To see it because that's you being you."

"Ah, okay. I get it. I still feel like that with you sometimes," I admitted. "I think we're always going to try to find ways to see each other."

"Is that...good?"

"I'm not an expert, but I'd say it is. It's important to want to see the other person as they really are. When you stop looking for stuff like that, you start to fall out of love. And I don't want us to fall out of love with each other."

"I want that, too," he said with a smile.

"And...I've been patient over here, but I'd like to come over there and sit with you," I admitted. Sometimes, it was easy to let Grant dictate the pace, but there were times when I needed to remember to take responsibility and try to bridge the distance between us.

I shouldn't have been surprised when he blinked rapidly and only then seemed to see the distance between us. It was only a couple of feet, but it was swiftly starting to feel like there were miles and miles between us as the conversation continued. "Oh, I'm sorry, I was still...yes. Please."

I didn't need to be asked twice, and I quickly got up from the chair and plopped down onto the couch next to him. I wasn't surprised to find the smell of flour still stuck to his skin as he leaned into my touch without hesitation. Knowing him, he’d probably decided to shower in the morning rather than deal with it tonight. I might be able to coax him into a shower before going to bed.

"I've taken the next few days off," he told me softly as he laid his head on my shoulder and let out a breath I pretended didn't shake slightly at the end.

My brow rose. “Three days? And with the festival coming up?"

"I want to spend time with you," he said softly. "And it's been long enough that I can trust Devin will run the bakery in Fovel perfectly, and Luke has had a handle on the one in Denver for the past year. Louise is more than capable of running the bakery for a few days without my being there, especially since Devin will run between our two locations to ensure everything is being done properly on the baking side."

I smirked. “Devin, Luke, and Louise ganged up on you and pushed you into this, didn't they?"

I could feel his scowl against my shoulder. “They may have pulled me into an impromptu meeting to inform me of these details, yes."

I chuckled, pulling him closer. "Isn't it great having people around who love you so much that they meddle in your business? "

"The first half of that sentence is true. I'm not as sure about the second half."

"At least you're lucky Sylvia didn't get involved."

He surprised me by bursting into a sudden and rare laugh. "Are you serious?"

"Not often, but now? Yes...why?"

"She stopped in even before your interview was over."

Of course she had. I loved my sister greatly, but that didn't mean she wasn't an interfering, difficult, and headstrong woman. If anything, getting married and then pregnant had only made her worse.

"Oh God," I moaned. "What did she do?"

"She took very little time after getting into town before she dropped by the bakery and informed me I needed to be ready to 'suck it up' when you were here."

"Of course she did," I sighed because, bless my twin, she was insufferable sometimes.

"And," his voice softened. "she reminded me that your life has been very different from mine."

"Of course."

"And I'm not wrong, but she loves you very much."

"Her exact words, I'm guessing."

"Yes."

"Okay."

"And she doesn't want me to forget you love me."

"Ugh."

"And even if it doesn't seem like it, you want to be here."

"She's such an interfering busybody," I grumbled, pressing my nose into the side of his head and breathing deeply. "Good thing I know she means well...and she's pretty smart."

"She said much the same about you."

"Alright, I take it back, she can rot."

Grant laughed softly, pushing his hand into mine and curling our fingers together. "You love her. "

"I do...and I love you."

"You do."

I chuckled, kissing him gently. "Why don't we get our butts in the shower before we curl up in bed."

"I would like that...quite a lot."

"Good, because so would I."

And we could do it knowing I wouldn't have to leave him again. We had the rest of our lives to be in each other's hair and drive one another crazy.