Page 109 of Building What's Meant to Be

“She knows,” the others chorus.

“Where’d you come from?” Louella Belle asks.

“Oh, just, uh, doing stuff over at the bakery with Rhondy. You know, things.” Bess clears her throat as if she’s hiding something.

“Seems suspicious,” Christina says.

“Shh,” Mae hisses, then says, “Our brother is a proud alpha male, possibly slightly damaged from the job we didn’t know he had until recently, and averse to being vulnerable.”

The others nod in agreement.

“But after Murder Doll visited him last night, he came to his senses,” Mae says matter of fact.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

Bess’s phone rings and she hollers, “The eagle has landed. I repeat, the eagle is here.” She hangs up. “Yeah, I could never be a secret agent.”

“I take it that was code for me returning to town?” I ask.

Bess nods.

We all burst into laughter. Brave’s ears perk up and he wears a doggy smile. Relief washes over me, introducing a little liquid to my laughter. For once, I don’t care if it messes up my makeup.

Thankfully, the ladybosses and Bess spend the next half hour distracting me until my attention drifts to the familiar, low rumble of a motorcycle approaching on Main Street.

Mid-sentence, I stop what I’m saying and rush outside. Aiden kicks the stand down on his bike and then does a double-take when he sees me standing there.

He gets off and swallows thickly. “Hi, you.”

My belly swoops on cue. Yep, still in love. Hopelessly, wonderfully in love.

This is the part of the movie where I rush into his arms and he spins me in a circle. His embrace is strong, unrelenting. I have a feeling he’ll never let me go again—symbolically speaking. And I don’t want him to. Despite the misunderstanding and misinformation, I want to be with him.

“We can fix this,” I exhale into the warm slope of his neck. I breathe in his spicy aftershave.

Aiden sets me on the ground and says, “I’m sorry for not telling you about my job. It was wrong. Even though you were an aspiring actress. I was playing a role to protect you.”

“I guess we’re not that different.”

“I’ll never keep anything about myself from you again.”

“Likewise, especially if a creep repeatedly texts me.”

“Do you get that often?”

“Not if I delete all the DO NOT CALL contacts in my phone.”

He gives a short nod as if that’s a good idea. “I have news. I’m retiring.”

“Seriously?”

“It’s time. Cats only have so many lives, ya know? And I want to make one with you. A life, uh, not a cat. That’s weird.” He brushes his thumb across his lips as if shy, boyish.

Around a laugh, I say, “Bubba’s isn’t the only thing that had a makeover. Me too. Or a makeunder, depending on how you look at it.”

“I’d say it’s an improvement, but when I first saw you, I knew you’d be the future Mrs. Mayor.”

“Are you still thinking of running for office?”

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