Page 78 of Somewhere You Belong

And this is what I’ve arrived at: she may own the house that I’ve always dreamed of owning myself, but the pull I feel toward her is stronger than that old desire.

There will be other houses.

But there’s only one Willow.

And if she’s here temporarily, then I owe it to myself to explore this connection that we have.

My gut tells me she belongs here, like something brought her here that is bigger than us both, and rarely in life do you get a feeling like that, so why not listen to it?

This could monumentally blow up in my face.

But after last night, I realize that I don’t fucking care.

I’ve made choices and sacrifices throughout my life that have paid off, and some that still haunt my dreams.

But not going after Willow?

I’m fairly certain that regret could turn into a nightmare I’d have to face for the rest of my life.

“So what happens now?” Penn asks, pulling me back to our conversation.

“Now I show her exactly what Carrington Cove and I can offer her.”

“And the house?”

I shrug. “What will be, will be.”

“Then I hope it’s worth it.”

Something tells me that she is.

***

“That thing has seat belts, right?” Willow stares at my Mustang as I guide her with my hand on her lower back, down the gravel alongside her house toward my car.

I drove over to her house to pick her up for our date, and when she opened the door, my jaw nearly hit the floor.

She had on a light blue sundress with white polka dots, thin straps draped over her shoulders exposing her creamy skin, and a hem that hit just above her knees. It was the most casual thing I’ve seen her wear yet, but that wasn’t what stopped me in my tracks.

Her hair was down on purpose.

All. Of. It.

Silk waves of gold hung around her face, her blonde hair glistening in the sunlight, and her lips were painted the same red she wore the first night she stepped foot in my restaurant.

I felt like a fucking sap trying to form words in my head for how strongly she took my breath away.

The only word I could come up with was…wow.

And now that I have her next to me and the whole evening ahead of us, I can’t wait to bury my hands in her hair later while I bury my tongue in her mouth.

“Yes, there are seat belts.”

“I know it sounds like a stupid question, but I’ve never been in an old car like this before.”

I reach for the handle on her door, opening it so she can slide inside. But I stop her with my free hand before she does. “The term you’re looking for is classic, Willow. She’s aclassic.”

Her brows rise. “She?”

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