Page 27

I ’m warming up in my favorite blue running shorts, grateful that it isn’t windy this morning like it was yesterday. Micah said to meet him out here at six, so here I am—not because I’m after anything from him. I love Anders and Micah is barely a blip on my radar. It’s incredible what one tiny pair of olive green running shorts is capable of. In less than thirty seconds, they undid thirteen years of physical attraction. I’m not in delusional love with Micah Watson anymore. And if love can be defeated by a pair of flimsy running shorts, was it even love to begin with?

I laugh at myself. I’ve been such an idiot this last decade or so. I’m still waiting for the man because it would be crazy to ignore his offer, right? I’m dying to know what Micah Watson has to talk to me about. I can’t wait to tell Anders about whatever happens today, and about the shorts. He’s going to love to hear about those.

I pull one sneakered foot behind me to stretch my quads, surveying the entrance to the resort. Either the paparazzi are giving up or they are late sleepers. It’s empty out here and I’m happy about that.

I didn’t tell Mercer where I was going when we crossed paths this morning. I haven’t talked to Anders. He sent a text late last night—a quick check-in. I sent a quick reply. Yesterday was insanely busy for both of us. The meeting with the representative from our insurance company was positive. The fire is covered, we just have a few months of repair work ahead of us. Joe and I made a game plan for that. Everything will be okay, just like he and Anders said.

I just wish I could shake this restlessness. Maybe exercise will help. I finish my warm-up with one last peek at the resort entrance. I feel silly waiting for Micah out here, so I turn to start my run. I’m barely a quarter mile down the path when I spot a pair of scandalously small running shorts headed toward me. From the looks of it, Micah is just finishing his workout. He must have forgotten his offer.

He smiles when he sees me. “Hi. You made it.”

“Yeah, but it looks like you’re almost done?” I hope that didn’t sound as pathetic as I feel.

“Just wanted to make sure I got my miles in. I didn’t know if you could handle my distance.” He pushes something on his watch screen. “Ready?”

Nice .

“Don’t worry about it. You can get started on your day. Thanks for the offer, though.” Fourteen-year-old Sunny would slap my face, but the words come out of my mouth nevertheless. I even offer a goofy little salute to drive home that I am mentally unwell.

“No, it’s fine. I’ve wanted a chance to talk to you, anyway.” He turns like he’s really going to run with me immediately after finishing his run. Whatever. If the handsome, wealthy, megastar wants to give me pointers and have a chat, who am I to say no? It’ll make a good story to tell at parties, if nothing else.

We run in silence for a few minutes and I can’t help but notice that Micah isn’t winded. His lack of heavy breathing is distracting to the point that I can’t seem to get my own breathing under control. I’m tired today. My lungs are tight and my legs are heavy. I’m trudging down the trail, feeling self-conscious about my pace and labored breathing—even more so when Micah drops back to watch me run.

“You should be wearing better shoes for your gait. You pronate, and it looks like you have a wide foot.” Trot, trot, trot . “Wearing the wrong shoes can lead to injury.”

Well, at least my shorts are visible without a microscope.

I know he’s right, though. I continue to run in silence. Micah offers occasional input on my form and breathing. I try the minor changes he suggests and don’t notice any huge improvement right away, but that’s no surprise.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about Anders,” he says with plenty of air in his lungs. So annoying.

“What about?” I eke out between breaths.

“I would appreciate it if you’d give him some space for the duration of the shoot.”

That stops me in my tracks. “Excuse me?”

“We can’t afford for Anders to chase you like a dog in heat. The man has no self-control around females .”

Says the man who’s had his eyes on various parts of my body for the stationary portion of this conversation. And the way he says the word “females” makes my nostrils flare. I look at Micah Watson—really look at him. He is nothing like I thought. I’m so relieved I never got what my little fourteen-year-old heart prayed for.

A familiar pink Jeep passes us. I spot Anders’ tan profile. Immy is in the back seat, her unrestrained blonde curls blowing around her. That’s going to be a nightmare to brush out later. I should be grateful that the new nanny gets that job. Instead, I’m just bummed out. My feet feel even heavier in my shoes.

Suddenly the Jeep makes a u-turn and stops a dozen feet in front of us on the road. My heart is pumping hard now. Those are my people in that Jeep .

“Sunny!” Imogen calls. “Come here!”

“Ugh,” Micah groans beside me. He mutters something that I can’t make out, but his tone isn’t kind.

“Micah?” I make the word sweet even though I want to stomp on his running shoe and leave.

“What?”

“I’ve seen all of your movies.” I hate to give him this information. He doesn’t deserve the satisfaction.

His face says he’s expecting me to ask him for an autograph and he’s put out by the possibility. “Thank you, and?”

“Anders is a much better actor than you. I think he’ll be just fine.”

I don’t elaborate or wait for a response. I jog over to the rumbly pink Jeep and the man and child I’ve missed so much these past—how long has it been? Two nights? It has felt so much longer. I think I might be addicted to them.

“Hi, guys!” I smile at Imogen first, then my eyes find Anders.

His expression is grim and he’s staring hard at Micah. His gaze flits my direction, tripping at my bare legs, before finally landing on my face. I arch an eyebrow at him, even though I like having this man’s eyes on me.

“What are you doing with him?” he asks. It’s a fair question.

“He offered to give me some running pointers.” I make a face that I hope conveys how little I’m enjoying Micah’s advice or his company. I probably look like I ate something rotten.

There’s relief in Anders’ eyes when he answers. “I bet he did.” He shakes his head with a look of disgust.

Micah jogs up to us, jamming his finger on his smart watch with a huff. “I need to get back.”

I bristle at his impatient words. “Go ahead.” Why is he still here, anyway ?

There’s a beat of silence before Micah says, “Fine,” and sprints away. We watch him leave without an ounce of regret on my part. The man is a tool.

“His shorts look like kid shorts,” Imogen announces from the back seat.

“Immy, that’s not nice,” Anders says, but his wide eyes and dramatic nod tell me that he agrees.

I bite my lip to hold back a smile. I love these two. “What are you guys up to?”

“We’re looking for you!” Imogen chimes in. “My dad got a big—”

“I wanted to invite you over for movie night.” Anders talks over his daughter loudly. “If you’re not too busy? I know you have a lot going on.”

“I’m not too busy.” I have so much to tell him. The last two days have been a whirlwind of problems and difficult emotions, but I know that it will all be okay. I can’t control everything and I want to stop trying. I’m ready to let go. And I am still out of my mind in love with Anders Beck. I hope he still loves me, because I got hooked fast and this 48-hour involuntary detox has been miserable. It’s like I’m running the last fifty feet of a marathon and Anders is standing on the other side of the finish line.

I hold all of these thoughts inside when I ask, “What time?” I know I’m smiling desperately.

“Can we pick you up at seven?”

“Sure.”

“Okay. See you tonight.”

He waves and I mimic the gesture with a big, dumb grin, entirely stupefied by this man.

I cannot wait for tonight .

Late that afternoon I’m sitting down with my mom and Joe, running through post-conflagration logistics. We’re in Joe’s office and my feet are kicked up on the corner of his desk. We have a solid plan to handle the fire damage going forward, so I’m partially distracted by what I’m going to wear to movie night. I want to be comfortable, but I also want to look nice. And I don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard, even though I definitely am. I know which jeans I’m going to wear. That part is easy. Maybe my blue blouse?

“...the grounds crew can wear stilts and clown suits, and once we set up the cotton candy machine and corn dog fryers it’ll be a pretty nice carnival,” Joe’s voice barges into my happy thoughts.

“What?” Corn dogs? Has Joe lost his mind?

“Just trying to get your attention,” he teases with a crooked grin, pushing my heels off his desk. “Space cadet.”

“Be nice to her, son,” my mother chides. “Do I need to remind you of how twitterpated you were when you met Indie?”

“Absolutely untrue,” he scoffs.

My mom doesn’t respond except for raising her eyebrows. We all know the truth. She looks at me. “Have you seen him?”

I shake my head. “Not really. I need to deal with this stuff and I didn’t think I’d be able to keep my head on straight with him around.”

“How’s that working out for you?” Joe asks, like the older brother that he is.

My mom frowns at him. “Can I be honest with you?” When I shrug, her love-filled eyes find mine. “There’s nothing wrong with having your head on a little crooked. That man is perfect for you. You balance each other. You need him to pull you out of the perfectionism bubble you make for yourself. He might even keep you from going crazy trying to make everything just so all the time. You need him. When are you going to see him?”

“He invited me over for a movie with Immy tonight.” I know I’m grinning again. It’s impossible to keep my cool.

“No wonder you’re so useless today.” Joe doesn’t mince words. “When can we expect you to get your head back in the game? Ballpark it.”

I kick my feet back onto his desk. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“In body only.”

That’s… true. I can’t blame him for calling me out on it.

My mom saves me with a stern look to my brother. “Joe and I can pick up your slack just like you picked up his slack when he got engaged and started building his house. That’s what family does. We love you, kid. You’ve handled the changes of the last few months like a professional.” She grins. “For the most part. Now you can let us take over for a few.”

“Mom’s right,” Joe says with a put-upon sigh. “If you want to run off into the sunset with Mr. Blinding Veneers, you have my blessing.”

I can’t help but hug my brother, as annoying as he is. “I don’t think they’re veneers.”

“There’s no way those teeth are original.” He cuffs my shoulder. “But go get him, Sis.”

“You’re wearing a hole in the floor, dude,” Mercer says from her usual spot in the armchair. She looks like she’s ready for a night in—her antique Juicy sweats are on and she’s up to her elbow in a pint of ice cream. It’s a relief that things are back to normal with us. We talked it out last night, and it helps that she schemed with Anders to arrange this movie night. In all of her contrition over the fire she’s also started cleaning up after herself. My best friend is still a mess, but she’s the best kind of mess .

I need a distraction. “So are you going to keep carrying on with Oliver, or what?” I bite my lip trying not to listen for an approaching car.

“Carrying on? Okay, Grandma.” Mercer rolls her eyes. “Yeah, no . I think that was a one-and-done for me.”

“Really?” She doesn’t seem at all bothered by ending her fiery fling.

She nods. “He’s too robotic. And I’m gonna focus on getting my act together.”

“If you say so.” I fall onto the couch, determined not to stare out the window looking for a pink Jeep. I’m wearing Anders’ favorite jeans, a flowing white blouse, and my comfy sandals. Nice, but not over-the-top, I think. “Is my hair too much? I curled it. Is it obvious that I’m trying to look nice?”

“Yeah,” she says around a mouthful of rocky road.

“Gee, thanks, Merce.” I swipe open my phone to find that two minutes have passed. It’s 7:03. I bounce my knee a dozen times.

“You gotta calm down.” She puts her ice cream on the coffee table. “Take a deep breath in through your nose and count to four. Hold it and count to seven, then let it out through your mouth and count to eight. Like this.”

She demonstrates the calming breathing technique and I try it, even though I want to throw a pillow at her face. I breathe in. One…two…three…four… I hold my breath. One…two…three…

BANG BANG BANG! Someone pounds on the door.

I startle, then jump up, grab my purse, and swing open the door before I remember to release the breath I’m holding.

“Hi!” I say on a heavy exhale.

Oh, Anders. Am I a little woozy, or is he wearing a tuxedo? I was not mentally prepared for this man in a tuxedo with that tan, scruffy jawline. It takes me way too long to notice he’s carrying a dress bag. Immy is beside him in a cupcake-like tulle dress and glittery gold ballet flats. She’s carrying a shoe box. I am slightly underdressed for movie night. They hand me the bag and the box as I let them into my condo.

“Change into those. We’ll wait.” Anders says with a smirk.

Immy plops on the couch next to Mercer with a dramatic poof. “But just so you know, you should go fast because we have—”

“A surprise.” He gives his daughter a look. “Remember, it’s a surprise,” he emphasizes.

Ten minutes later I’ve changed into the sapphire blue sequined gown and strappy heels they provided. I’ve never dressed like this in my life. Anders guides me into the passenger seat of his black SUV and we’re driving toward nowhere with Immy chattering in the back seat. It’s desert on all sides of the road and I’m dying of curiosity.

“You changed your mind about movie night?”

He squeezes my hand over the console. “No. You’ll see. No more questions.”

“Are we going to be around a lot of people?” We’re dressed for an event, and my stomach is in knots at the idea of facing a crowd unprepared. Anders and I haven’t even talked about what we are. I need to do Mercer’s breathing thing again.

“Absolutely not. I know you better than that.” He kisses the inside of my palm and all is right with my world.

We’re on a two lane road, deep in a sandstone canyon when Anders finally parks. The sun is just starting to drop behind the cliffs, covering everything with golden light and making the scene in front of me look like a dream. I’m not sure my eyes are working right. Out here in the middle of nowhere, among the cliffs and sagebrush, is a long red carpet. I try to see where it leads, but the path is obscured by the landscape.

I gasp. “What is this, Anders?”

“It’s a—” Imogen starts .

“Nope!” He cuts her off. “Geez, you two don’t get the concept of a surprise, do you?”

I twist around in my chair, whispering conspiratorially to Immy. “You can tell me.”

“You better not. I’m warning you.”

His stern voice sends a happy little flutter through my stomach. He circles the SUV to open our doors, leading us both to the red carpet. He laces his fingers through mine and Immy skips ahead of us, obviously excited about whatever is at the end of this thing.

I squeeze his strong hand, holding tight because I’m in heels, and even though we’re walking on carpet, the rocky ground beneath it is unpredictable.

He squeezes back, “Can I be serious with you for a minute?”

“Maybe if you try hard enough.” I bump him with my hip.

He growls and pulls me into his side, holding me tight. “I can’t think straight with you in that dress, Sunny. I should’ve brought a baggy, brown trench coat for you to wear.” He clears his throat and we take a few more steps before he continues. “Okay, you know how I love candy?”

Well, that took an unexpected turn. I think about it. I guess he does tend to keep a bag of Skittles at the ready. “I think so?”

“I mean, when I’m not getting ready for a shirtless scene, I like candy. Anyway, when I was a kid I used to sneak it in my lunchbox. I figured out quickly that if I filled my lunchbox with Skittles and M&Ms there wasn’t room left for real food. By the end of the day I was sick. Eventually, I learned to pack real food and fit the candy around it.”

Where is he going with this? And where is Immy? She is wasting us on this red carpet. Anders is unfazed. He must not be too worried about whatever is ahead of us. Very him .

“My life has been like a lunchbox full of candy. I haven’t left room for the best things. The most important things. So I’m rearranging, and the thing is…”

My heel catches on a bump in the carpet and I stumble. Without missing a beat, I’m in Anders' capable arms and my feet are off the ground. The man has literally swept me off my feet. If I wasn’t so breathless I would laugh at the ridiculousness.

“Sorry,” his deep voice rumbles close to my ear. “I didn’t think the shoes through when I planned this.”

“This is good, though.” I stretch up to kiss his neck. “You were saying?”

His Adam's apple bobs. “I-I was saying that I’m rearranging my life to make room for the best things.” He hitches me higher and closer in his arms. “But the thing is, I’m not making room for you in my life.”

I laugh. “Excuse me?”

“That came out wrong.” He chuckles and I love the hum of his laughter while he holds me. “I’ve been doing it all wrong. I’ve filled my life with work and travel and myself.” We make our way around a bend in the trail. He has to be dying carrying me, but if he is, he’s hiding it well. “But I’m flipping that inside out. I’m not making room for you in my life. You are my life. You’re everything to me, Sunflower. Will you make room for me? For us?”

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. My eyes are blurry with tears. I want to kiss him before I answer because it’s been way too long, but I don't allow it because I also need to think. I want to say yes—of course I do—but I don’t know how it can work.

He must sense my reservations because he plows ahead. “I want all of you, Sunny. I want to hike through the desert and play cards with your sisters. I want to bring you on the real red carpet and show you off. I want to find kids to raise with you. I want to fill a house with at least fifteen kids. Two from each continent, plus Immy. ”

Aaaaand… now I’m bawling. I hope he’s serious. I’d raise fifteen kids with him. He skipped a step, though.

Anders goes on. “I want you. But mostly I want to be yours. I’m begging you to let me be yours.”

He lowers my feet to the ground, but I’m not ready to let him go. I don't know what to say, but I can't be separated from him any more.

He fills in the silence. “I know I'm going way too fast. That’s always been me—zero to sixty. But in my gut I know this is right.” His voice is thick with emotion. “Can't you feel it?”

I stare into his icy blue eyes. He’s so right. Everything inside me knows this is right—we’re right.

“Yes,” I whisper, blinking up at him. “Anders, I needed you so much. I thought I was okay. I thought I could make life perfect on my own, but I was so wrong. I didn’t know how much I was missing until I found you.”

His hands squeeze my waist. “ I found you . That first day, watching you with Immy in those glasses… I found you. And I want to keep you.”

“Well, I’m yours,” I push the words past the knot in my throat.

He whoops, pulling me into his arms and spinning us in a circle. His fingers thread through the curls at the back of my neck and his lips crash onto mine. I tug on his lapels, bringing him closer and memorizing the feel of his mouth on mine. When my teeth find his bottom lip he pulls away.

His husky voice is breathless. “There are children present, Sunflower,” he murmurs. He shakes his head, taking my hand and leading me farther down the carpet. “It’s a good thing you said that, otherwise the rest of this night would’ve been incredibly awkward,” he adds with a chuckle.

We turn one last corner and finally catch up to Imogen. She’s sitting on a couch. Is that a couch? There’s a huge screen and a projector. There’s even a popcorn machine. All of it is positioned at the end of a red carpet in a clearing in the middle of this desert canyon like it belongs here.

“Hurry up, you guys!” she calls, kicking her feet on the end of the couch cushion. “You’re going so slow!”

We make our way toward her, hand in hand. No movie night will ever top this.

“How did you do this? This is crazy. There’s half a movie theater out here, Anders.”

“I know people who are good at making movies in crazy locations,” he says with a shrug. “This isn’t that different. And I’m not the best with unscripted words. I thought maybe I could show you how it might look if we do this together—my life and your life. Red carpet. Red rocks. What do you think?”

I take a long look at what’s ahead of us: Imogen, the red carpet, movie nights, and peaceful time in the quiet desert, just us. “I want all of it.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he murmurs. He pulls his free hand out of his pocket, taking my other hand with it. I feel something in his palm. There is no way.

“Anders, is that a—” I'm certainly not going to say it.

“It’s a ring. But I’m not crazy enough to ask you yet.” He pulls the hand with the ring away. “I just want to warn you that it’s coming. Brace yourself, because it's going to blow your mind.” He laughs. “Your mom said I should just do it. I told her she’s nuts. It's a little fast,” he says, completely nonchalant, like he’s not already blowing my mind at this moment.

“Just let me look at it!” I reach for his hand, but he holds it over his head. I jump for it. “Come on, Anders. Just a peek.”

This man is crazy. Who buys a ring for someone so soon?

Maybe I’m crazy, too, because I would say yes.