Page 6 of Won’t Let You Get Away

Pushing open the creaky barn door, memories of Bri linger at the back of my mind, mingling with disappointment over Connor and Tucker assuming I wouldn’t show up tonight. The whole reason my dad organized my holiday vacation was to make sure that I could learn to prioritize my personal life over work.

Knots tighten in my stomach as I trudge through the barn, greeting the horses who lazily peek their heads out of their stalls.

Dad worried that I didn’t know how to live a fulfilling life, and now that I’ve shut everything out since coming home, I can’t help but wonder if he was right.

I love this farm but being with Bri for those few days made me realize that there’s more out there for me. Squaring my shoulders, I resolve to make a change. I’ll be present and involved in Connor’s life, maybe spend more time with Tucker and other friends in town.

Starting with dinner at the Jones’s tonight, I need to figure out how to have a work-life balance—whatever that may look like.

SABRINA

“Oh, thank God we’re finally here!” Addison hops out of the vehicle and groans with relief.

I chuckle and stretch my arms above my head.

“Yeah, it must have been very exhausting being a passenger princess.” I tease, giving her a playful glare.

She narrows her eyes at me. “Don’t even start. Itriedto drive multiple times, butyouwouldn’t let me.”

I shrug unapologetically. I’ve never been good at being a passenger, and since turning twenty-five, it’s escalated to actual car sickness. Despite my protests, Addison and Paul once planned a surprise trip to the Adirondacks. Paul insisted I just “sit back and relax” while they drove. But after only thirty minutes on the road, my motion sickness hit hard.

Shivering, I reach for my purse between the front seats of the truck. “We both know it was for the best that I drove instead,” I remind Addison.

She shudders visibly, her eyes flicking down to my stomach. Before she can say anything else, she’s interrupted.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

I spin around with a wide smile as Tucker saunters over to us.

“Now I know damn well that Ma told you I would be here, Tuck.”

“I was told that an angel was coming to the vineyard, but I had to see for myself,” he chuckles, his blue eyes sparkling as he grins at me. “Good to see you, Sassy.”

Closing the distance, I push to my tiptoes and wrap my arms around his neck to pull him down for a hug. As we pull apart, I can’t resist squeezing his bicep.

“Dear lord, how much muscle do you have?” I exclaim, emphasizing my point by giving it another squeeze.

He laughs and holds me at arm’s length, smiling down at me. “Gotta find some way to impress you.”

I let out a giggle, unable to contain my amusement. Tucker has always been the heartthrob of our small town, constantly teased by our mother about his potential modeling career thanks to his perfect jawline. But despite his killer good looks and our amazing friendship, there was never a romantic spark between us… much to Ma’s disappointment.

As I step back from Tucker, I notice his gaze shift behind me and his perfect smile falters slightly. “Addy,” he addresses her with a clipped tone, dipping his chin in her direction. I have to bite back my grin as I know how much Addison detests that nickname.

“Tucker,” she responds flatly, pushing past us towards our parents’ house.

I nudge Tuck with my elbow and give him a pointed look. “Remind me again why I’m the one nicknamed Sassy Pants when you’ve met her?”

He chuckles and wraps an arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his side. “Because you’re sassy to everyone. Grouchy pants only has sass for me.”

“Are you coming, Sis?” Addison calls out from halfway across the driveway.

Tucker responds before I can speak. “Ma and Tommy are already at the cabin. Pa’s heading there after finishing up a meeting. Ma asked me to escort you both down so I could make sure the truck doesn’t get stuck going down the dirt road.”

I reach up and give his hand on my shoulder a grateful squeeze.

Addison shoots him a glare. “And just how do you plan on getting down there?”

He lets me go and jerks his thumb over his shoulder, motioning to my moving truck. “That truck is headed in the same direction. Figured I’d hitch a ride with my favorite Jones.”

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