Page 45

Wren

Carson

Pack a bag. We leave first thing tomorrow.

When Carson asked if I could take this weekend off from work, I wasn’t sure what he had planned for us.

The last two weeks have been spent in a blur of bedsheets and shared dinners, stolen glances and slow smiles—either in my place or his.

Our jobs take up the hours in between, but every free moment has belonged to us.

Usually, after work, I head straight to the diner.

He never asks for help, but I never wait for an invitation either.

I show up, kiss his grumpy face hello, then get to work—wiping counters, sweeping floors, keeping an eye on him until I can convince him to close up early on the slow days.

The sooner I get him home, the happier we both are.

Okay! Where are we going?

Carson

Not telling you. Just pack your things. Enough for two days.

I smile, shaking my head. It’s still wild to me how much he texts now. That wasn’t always the case—back when I was the only one initiating. But now? I get midday texts, late-night check-ins, and the occasional dirty fantasy whispered through emojis.

Well, it’s kinda important to know what sorta clothes and things to pack. Can you give me a little hint? Do I need a swimsuit? A jacket?

Carson

A jacket? Really? It’s 100 degrees outside…

Well, you never know! You could be taking me to the other side of the globe for all I know!

Carson

We’re not leaving the state. And you don’t have to pack any clothes as far as I’m concerned. Just don’t plan to leave the room, which is also fine by me.

Oh, whatever You’d get stir crazy being stuck with me in a room for two days.

Carson

I assure you, I would not. I could stand to have your legs wrapped around my head for an uninterrupted weekend… Have a great view of your perfect ass as you walk around our room… Matter of fact, I may change our plans. Gonna make a call.

A laugh bubbles out of me as my cheeks redden. I quickly glance around the break room and make sure no one is watching me.

Carson, do not change our plans! I want to see where you’re taking me! And I’ll wear whatever—and do whatever—you want while we’re in our room

Carson

Don’t tease me, Wren.

I’d never

*Photo Attachment*

The picture I took this morning is marked ‘Read,’ and the butterflies inside me take flight. Sending provocative pictures isn’t something I’ve ever done. But I’ve also never felt this safe, this wanted. I trust him. With my body. With my heart.

After a few minutes pass, I start to think maybe I went too far and he’s not going to say anything back.

Carson

Come home. NOW.

What? Why? Is everything okay?

Carson

No, it’s not. I have something I need you to take care of for me. Preferably with that tight ass again.

Heat rises in my cheeks. Flashes from this morning—bent over the bathroom sink, his name on my lips—pulse through my memory.

Haha! You’ll have to wait. I’ll be there soon. And I have something else for you too.

Inserting another picture, I press send and wait. The reaction I expected happens almost instantly.

Incoming Call from Carson

“Ready, Freddie?”

My eyes quickly jump over to Carson, who seems to be just as surprised by his words as I am. “Did you just say what I think you said?”

He grimaces. “Yeah… I think so.”

The grin that breaks free on my face is impossible to contain. “Looks like I’m finally rubbin’ off on you.” I pat his shoulder as he puts the car in gear. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone you ain’t always Mister Grumpy-Pants.”

He scowls and shakes his head, directing his attention back to the road.

“That’s right,” I tease, rubbing his shoulder. “You just keep practicin’ that grumpy look for everyone else. I know you’re as sweet as honey drippin’ off a biscuit.”

“Hey, Wren?”

“Hmm?”

“Take a nap.”

A laugh bursts from me, and he grins.

I’m so lucky to have finally found my person. Yes, I technically found him many years ago, but sometimes things need time to become the right time.

A few hours later, I wake just as we turn onto a gravel drive. In front of us sits a small tan cottage with a big front porch and two rocking chairs facing the sun.

“What is this place?” I ask, peering through the windshield.

“West Creek Farm,” Carson says. He hops out and walks around to my door. “Come on.”

The moment I step outside, the breeze hits me—carrying a sweet, familiar scent.

I quickly glance his way and see a smirk on his face as he watches me identify the smell, waiting for me to catch on.

“It’s a lavender festival,” he explains. “I rented this place for us.” He points to the charming cottage we’re parked in front of.

“A festival…for lavender !?” I shriek. “I had no idea there was such a thing!”

Throwing my arms around him, I jump up to kiss his cheek.

His brows draw together. “So… You like it?”

“Are you kiddin’ me?! YES! I love it! Come on.” I grab his hand and pull him along.

“Okay, good,” he responds, entering the code on the front door. “I’ll grab our bags, then we can go look around. I had no idea there could be so many things to do with lavender, but…” he shrugs.

We spend the afternoon learning about various types of lavender and their uses.

We sip lavender lemonade, listen to a bluegrass band play under a shaded tent, and eat tacos from a food truck.

At one point, a little girl with purple glitter paint across her cheeks offers me a lavender bracelet she made out of yarn. I wear it the rest of the day.

Carson keeps his pinky looped around mine as we browse vendor booths. Kids bounce around in inflatable castles, their laughter ringing through the air. My heart feels full to the brim.

By the time we get back to the cottage, I’m ready to collapse.

“We only have a few minutes,” Carson says as I toe off my shoes. “There’s one more thing planned tonight.”

“Oh?” I straighten. “Let me pull my hair up first.”

The humidity has been thick all afternoon.

I usually have a hair tie with me, but of course, the one time I don’t, I had to suffer through neck sweats all day.

If I had asked Carson to bring me back to our room, I know he would have, but I was having too much fun and didn’t want it to stop for even a second.

I finally find one in my bag and wrangle my hair into a ponytail before heading back out into the main room.

“Carse?”

The cottage is empty.

What the heck?

Before my overactive mind can wander, the front door swings open, and Carson walks in, one hand behind his back.

“Where’d you go?” I walk over, eyeing the arm he still has behind his back.

He reveals a small, stuffed cow, white with black spots and fluffier than anything I’ve ever seen. He holds it out to me. “Got you somethin’.”

I take it and smile. “Oh wow! It’s heavier than I expected.” I hug it to my chest and inhale. “And it smells so good!”

“It’s full of rice,” he explains. “And lavender. You can heat it up. It holds warmth for sore muscles. She said it helps you sleep, too.”

I nuzzle the little cow tighter. “I love it. Thank you, Carse.”

“You’re welcome.” His eyes track down to my mouth, and that smirk returns. The one that always makes me weak.

“You gonna kiss me or what?” I grin.

He pulls me in without another word, lips warm and sure on mine. When our foreheads touch, his voice drops low.

“I love you so much, Tink.”

Tears sting my eyes. I smile through them, too overwhelmed to speak.

What did I do to deserve this? To deserve him ?

He didn’t just love me. He taught me how to love myself —how to say no, how to take up space, how to choose joy.

His pinky loops around mine. “Come on. There’s somethin’ I wanna show you.”

“Can it wait?” I trail a hand up his chest and ghost a kiss on his neck.

He lets out a groan.

“As much as I’d love to know what’s runnin’ through that pretty head of yours, this can’t wait.”

“Are you sure?” I slip my hand up his shirt, dragging my nails lightly over his chest.

He lets out a sharp breath, eyes fluttering shut as his head tilts back.

“You’re killin’ me, Tink.” He grabs my wrist, halting my movements.

“But I reserved a bistro table and picnic basket between the lavender rows. I made sure the food was safe for you as well. I could be a selfish bastard and not tell you…” he dips down, nipping at my neck, “…but I think you’d be upset to miss that. ”

“Really?!” I pull back. “That sounds so romantic!”

The image forms instantly in my mind—lavender fields, a candlelit table, just the two of us. I’m craving something more now—an intimate moment like that with him.

“Come on!” I take his hand in mine, and he follows beside me as I lead us out the door.

The endless lavender sky outside is painted in watercolor—soft violet melting into periwinkle. As we step onto the porch, I wrap my arms around his neck.

“I love you so much, Carson Matthews.”

He presses a kiss to the top of my head. “I know. And I’ll never stop wondering why.”