Page 26 of Take This Heart (Windy Harbor #1)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

OFF WEEK

GOLDIE

Any chance we could meet at The Loon tonight?

Juju

Ooo, I’m in…as long as it’s on the early side. You know me—I’ll be drowsy by 8:30 due to my middle-of-the-night wake-up time.

Erin

I don’t know how you do it, Juju. And I am so in. I need Tater Tot Hotdish like I need a redhead. And I hope Lorraine still has seven-layer bars by the time we get there. We should probably aim for 5:15 to make sure that happens.

Should I be offended that you care more about hotdish than seeing me?

Erin

Babes, you, hotdish, and seven-layer bars are my favorite kind of night…besides the one in my dreams with a redhead.

Juju

LOL. It does sound delish…hotdish and bars, not the redhead.

Erin

Don’t rain on my fetish parade.

Juju

Never!

You have both made me very happy. Not as happy as Erin with a redhead…but happy. See you at 5:15.

The Loon is busy when I walk in. Lorraine waves from the bar.

“Erin called ahead and asked that I save the window table for you,” she says, pointing to our favorite table overlooking the lake.

“Thanks, Lorraine!”

I stare out the window, endlessly amazed that the lake goes as far as the eye can see.

I hear Erin and Juju before I see them, already laughing about something as they walk in together.

We hug and order hotdish and bars right away to ensure we don’t miss out, and we catch up for about twenty minutes before Erin bumps my elbow.

“Okay, lay it on us. What has you so pensive tonight?”

“What? I don’t think I’m pensive.” I shake my head.

Juju points at me. “That’s the perfect word for it. I was trying to figure out what was up.”

“Uh…not much is up. Except…”

“Here we go.” Erin waves her hand for me to continue.

“Well…Milo asked me to go to his parents’ house for dinner in the Cities this weekend and I said yes.”

Juju gasps, delighted. “Oh my gosh! This is so exciting!”

“I hope you’ve packed your Scarlett Landmark lingerie,” Erin says, winking at me. “And you need to binge on Zoey Archer’s books to get you prepared for sexy time.”

“No, not necessary. There will be no sexy time,” I say emphatically. “We’ve had an…off week.”

“Define off,” Erin says, eyes narrowing.

“Mm-hmm. This just got even more interesting,” Juju says.

I sigh. These two can always see right through me, dangit.

“We had a little too much to drink and made out the other night and then had a fight the next day and then we didn’t speak and then he invited me to his family home and I don’t know what to do and—” The words rush out of me and when they’re out, I sit back, winded and flushed.

“Breathe.” Erin puts her hand on my shoulder and I take a ragged breath.

“So…was the makeout sesh awesome?” Juju whispers.

I wrinkle my nose and nod reluctantly. “So, so awesome.”

“And the fight?” Erin’s eyes widen. “Super sexy?”

I laugh. “No, it was not sexy. It was infuriating, just like him.”

“Mm-hmm. Sounds sexy.” Juju smirks. “That man is incapable of not being hot.”

She has a point, but we are not here to argue the level of Milo Lombardi’s hotness.

“He said I was being distant…back to frosty Goldie.” I shake my head and scowl. “When he’s the one who couldn’t get out of my room fast enough the night before.”

“Wait, you made out in your room? With Papa Everett nearby?” Erin says, laughing. “Get it, girl.”

“No, it was outside against the house. It was amazing.” I sigh.

“And then you moved it inside?” Juju asks, pressing her lips together in excitement.

“No, he just wanted to make sure I got in okay, I think.”

“Aww,” they both croon.

“No, not aw,” I hiss. “I was willing to…you know…and he wasn’t…he didn’t…so he left and I felt stupid.”

“I don’t know how, but I think I followed that,” Erin says. “You were hurt that he didn’t want to have sex?”

I nod, my face flaming. “It was a big deal for me to get that far after the whole…lying thing…”

“Yeah,” Juju says softly. “But I think he was probably scared to tell you after getting so close to you…and he probably didn’t want to have sex with your dad in the house,” Juju says.

“Or maybe he wanted you both sober for it,” Erin adds.

“He did mention that he wanted to sink inside me and never leave, but wanted me fully sober for it.” I cover my face with my hands and peek through them.

“Hot damn,” Erin says. “He might be the only man who could make me want peen.” She holds up her hand. “For your sake, of course.”

“Oh, he wants you. He wants you bad.” Juju clasps her hands together. “You have to take the Scarlett Landmark lingerie! Both sets. And listen to the latest Archer book on audio. That guy’s voice gives me chills. You will be primed and ready.”

They both laugh and I look at them in mortification.

“This is not happening. We work together. It was bad enough that we made out and had a fight the next day. You think we could have sex and recover?” I whisper-shout the words because the bar is loud tonight.

“As long as he’s good with aftercare and you take a warm bath somewhere between railings, I think you’ll recover just fine,” Erin says.

I throw my napkin at her.

I don’t see Milo until Friday afternoon.

That good ole denial comes into play and I put the trip out of my mind.

I almost forget we even planned this weekend. Okay, that’s a lie. But I try to forget, if that counts for anything.

I bury myself in picking chairs and tables for the restaurant and lodge, spending time with Dad, and working on a painting in the other spare moments. Friday morning, I panic when Dad asks me if I’m still planning on going.

“What? Why am I just now hearing about this?” Grandma Nancy swoops in, her hands clasped and eyes hopeful.

“Because I didn’t want you guys to get any ideas,” I say, glaring at Dad.

He just grins.

“I hope you’ll be nicer to that boy. He is so handsome. And so polite!” Grandma Donna says.

“Mmm. He’s certainly got you fooled.” And then I concede, “He can be nice when he wants to be.”

They both beam at me, and again, I stare at my dad.

Sorry, he mouths.

“Take something pretty to wear!” Grandma Donna calls after me as I leave the room. “Do you need that pretty pink sweater I knitted for you?”

“Too hot, I think,” I yell back, so very grateful that it’s not winter and I don’t have to wear that sweater today to make my grandma happy.

“And let us know as soon as you’re back so we can hear all about it!” Grandma Nancy calls.

“Will do,” I yell.

I rush to my room to shave all my bits and put a few things in a bag, tossing the lingerie in at the last second…

while also telling myself that I will absolutely not be wearing it.

A few minutes later, I hear Milo talking to Dad downstairs, and I glance out the window to see his black SUV idling.

No more denying it, I’m going on a little trip with Milo.

I already feel overheated and weird. I glance at myself in the mirror. I look okay, calmer than I feel. And all right, maybe I spent extra time getting ready, so I’d look better than okay…possibly even my very best self. But I pace for another thirty seconds before I go downstairs.

“Hey,” he says when I walk into the room.

“Hey.”

“You ready?” He smiles carefully, like he might be nervous too, and it reassures me the slightest bit.

“Yeah,” I manage, grabbing my bag. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”

He laughs softly. “Come on, Whitman. It’ll be fun, I promise.”

I kiss Dad’s cheek. “Call me if you need anything. I can come back early—”

“Don’t you dare. Besides, I’ll be busy here. There’s no peace with Mom and Grandma Donna hovering over me all the time,” he grumbles.

I’d laugh, but he seems more on edge. He’s actually not been himself lately. I don’t know if it’s all of us fussing over him or what. My grandmas are all moved in and are staying indefinitely. Our house smells like banana bread and blueberry muffins every day now.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Dad?”

He looks at me apologetically. “I’m sorry, buttercup. I’m okay. Just a lot on my mind.”

“Okay. Anything you need, just tell me.”

He swallows and nods. “Noah and Grayson are coming for the weekend.”

“Hug Grayson extra for me.”

“I will. Have a good time.” He gives me a direct look and I nod. “Love you, buttercup.”

“Love you too.”

He looks at Milo. “You’re not too bad either,” he says, pounding him on the back.

Milo laughs. “Right back atcha.”

We get on the road and it’s awkwardly polite for the first few minutes. And then I start paying attention to his playlist. It’s all over the place—old Motown classics, indie bands I haven’t heard of, punk-pop, top 40, and the obscure.

“I’m having a hard time distinguishing your musical identity,” I say when FINNEAS fades into Otis Redding and that fades into Paramore.

“I’m a man of many layers,” he says with mock gravity.

It leads into a conversation about songs I like and I play a few for him. Just like that, the tense drive I’d dreaded feels lighter.

We talk about random things. His old roommate, who still crashes at his place sometimes.

My brothers and how ridiculous and great they are.

We argue over the best kind of road trip snacks when we stop at a Kwik Trip—sour gummies and beef jerky for him, and Chex mix, Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, and Cherry Sours for me.

We end up eating each other’s snacks and agreeing that it’s all delicious and gut-ache inducing.

“You don’t talk about your life in Minneapolis much. Why is that?” I ask.

He glances at me and his eyes narrow. “Hmm. You’re right. I think…maybe because your life seems so much more interesting.”

I laugh. “Are you serious right now?”

“Yeah. I mean, there is nonstop entertainment with your family. Your brothers are hilarious. You have a dog named Kevin...” He lifts his hand like what more is there?

I smile. “I never expected the great Milo Lombardi to say something like that. Your life is so exciting. You’ve won awards, you’ve worked all over the world…you speak and people listen.”