Page 71 of Cade

“I mean, your bacon is burning...” I said as I pointed to the sizzling pan that looked encrusted in black char at this point.

Weston pushed me aside, turning the pieces over with a satisfied sound.

“It is not burning. It is char-grilled. It’s a gourmet thing.”

“Hmmm, so that’s what they call it,” I teased, but decided to take his lead. Instead of pushing, trying to take over, I took a seat at my island and just... watched.

I just watched the son of a millionaire make me breakfast in his underwear and it was glorious.

Entertaining too, as I watched him bustle about my kitchen like he lived there, opening and shutting cupboards, pouring coffees and orange juices, and trying to set the table like this place was a five star restaurant.

The food itself wasn’t terrible... even the char-grilled bacon.

But nothing was as delicious as the man who made it, the man who really did look like he belonged here.

With me.

Just as I finished my last piece of toast, Weston’s phone rang.

“Hello?” he answered, looking a bit worried, but instantly relaxed after a moment or two.

I decided to leave him to whoever he spoke to, and instead focused on cleaning up the mess from Weston’s cooking extravaganza.

“I’ll be right there,” he said with a sigh as he hung up.

I turned to look at him. “Everything okay?”

He nodded. “My dad’s getting discharged,” he said calmly.

“That’s a good thing, right?” I asked, immediately heading over to him. I didn’t miss how his shoulders tightened, or how his entire body locked up, the tension obviously spreading.

And so I did the only thing I could think of. I pulled Weston into my arms, and I told him it was going to be okay.

He was going to be okay.

He wrapped his arms around me, tightening his hold and nodded, leaning down to brush my lips with a gentle, whisper of a kiss, and he murmured, “I know.”

“I’ve got to get going, but, I’ll call you later?” he asked as he moved out of my arms toward the bedroom.

My heart was somehow both so full and so broken as I watched this perfect morning completely disintegrate.

The night before he’d told me he loved me.

I’d said it back because it was the truth, but as I watched him get ready to head out, it dawned on me that we hadn’t really talked about what we were, or where this... connection, this love we did have... where it fit into his life.

Weston had come to Jasper Springs on business, but he hadn’t agreed to stay indefinitely. In fact, despite his father’s insistence he take the reins, Weston had made no move to do so.

Did he plan on heading back to the city where he lived?

Would we just become some long-distance relationship where we caught up on the weekends until it was time for him to fly off somewhere else?

I wasn’t sure.

But despite the anxiety, despite the thoughts that threatened to upend this beautiful, perfect morning, I chose to believe that maybe things would work out.

After all, believing in the good things, having hope, that’s a hell of a lot more difficult than believing things won’t work out in your favor

And sometimes, life does give you exactly what you ask for.

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