“Ok… I’m listening…”
“I’m talking doorway leans, gray sweatpants, the works. Look, I don’t want either of you to get hurt. Just please be careful with her. She’s had the week from hell after her boss… was an asshole. She deserves a good guy.” She then paints on a fake smile and takes a bite of her bacon before joining Ingrid and Pop.
With everything that’s happened, I’ve ignored the fact that there’s a reason Ingrid’s here—and it’s not because of me. I know my sister means well, but her ominous fake slip-up just made things worse.
Once we’re all seated at the table, Cassidy breaks the silence, “What time are we going on the lake?”
“We?” I frown.
Cass takes a large bite of her waffles and purposely takes longer to chew than necessary. “You said we were going on the lake later.”
“I said I was taking Ingrid, not you.”
“Um, hi.” Ingrid raises her hand. “No one asked me if I wanted to go on a boat.”
“You up for going out later?” I know the answer, but I can’t help making light of it.
“I have plans.” Disappointment hits me as Ingrid busies herself with her breakfast, but I lean back in my chair expectantly, waiting to hear what these faux plans are. She finally looks over with an undeniable smirk. “I’m making a bucket list.”
“Yes!” Cass cheers. “We should have a bucket list while you’re back. I’ve been dying to go antiquing in Linton and take one of the flower arrangement classes Dani puts on.” I chose the wrong time to take a sip of Ingrid’s mimosa and nearly spit it out. Ingrid, still eating, covers her mouth as she tries to keep from laughing. “There’s nothing funny about that. We should do it!”
“What would be on your list, Ingrid?” Pop looks at us incredulously, but it only makes Ingrid and I laugh harder.
When her giggles don’t subside, I answer for her, “We haven’t decided but wanted to do as much as we can before I leave.”
Cass turns toward me and covers half her face, mouthing, “Gross,” no doubt having figured out exactly what kind of bucket list I’m referring to. She turns back and asks Ingrid, “What’s first on the list?”
“Well… other than spending time with all of you, I want to pitch a new show idea and get hired by another network, once the media storm dies down a bit.”
Her answer takes me by surprise. “What’s it about?”
Ingrid leans in and whispers, “It’s a secret.”
We spend the remainder of breakfast with Pop listening to Ingrid tell him about her time in New York; Cass and I comparing notes on a book she finished reading; Cassidy begging Ingrid to take a trip to Los Angeles if and when she pitches her idea… And all the while, I sit back and enjoy the easy banter between my family and the one woman who will always fit in here. There will only be a couple more Sunday brunches before I need to leave, and I know I’ll be counting down the days until I’m able to get back here. I need to find a way to keep her. Cass is right, though, I need to be careful until Ingrid shares why she’s back.
After breakfast, Cass and Pop are on the back porch, while Ingrid and I clean up and wash the dishes that piled up in the sink. It’s all too easy with her, and I can’t help wondering what it would take for her to come with me in a few weeks.
Comfortable silence passes between us while I wash and she dries. As I finish with the last plate, I lean against the counter and dry my hands with a kitchen towel. She wipes the excess water from the plate and places it in the rack, then glances up, catching me staring.
Ingrid mirrors my stance and narrows her eyes. When I don’t budge, she lifts onto her toes and kisses my cheek. As she falls back onto her heels, unable to help myself, I check that Cass and Pop are still busy, then grip the front of Ingrid’s delicate throat and bring her lips to mine. Our kisses are unrushed as my tongue sweeps across hers, loving the taste of orange and sweet blueberry lingering from breakfast. She slides her hands up my sides under my shirt, forcing a groan from me.
With a soft chuckle, she mutters against my lips, “What’s first on your list?”
I pull back and graze my thumb along her jaw, lost in her eyes. “Wrestle a shark, maybe fight a bear…” Ingrid's full laugh fills the kitchen until I admit, “My list begins and ends with you.”
I expect a swoon, but her face falls. “What happens when you leave?”
I get to spend forever with you.
“We’ll find out, together.” I press a final kiss to her lips.
No matter what, I’ll always be hers.
ingrid
. . .
“Idon’t know how to do this,” I grumble, attempting to untie the pontoon boat from the dock.