Page 87 of Tough Nut to Crack

"That would be amazing," I say as I lean a little closer so I can whisper. "I promise not to say a word about that."

I point, both of us looking toward the boxes of Dinty Moore chicken and dumplings.

"I'd appreciate that," she mutters. "And I'm not really lying. It's exactly what my grandmother served."

"Have a great day," I say before turning around and leaving the employee-only area of the diner.

I feel like I'm on cloud nine as I leave the diner and get back into my car.

I know there's a lot of work to do, and it may take time for this idea to grow legs and become successful, but I just jumped the biggest hurdle.

In my excitement, muscle memory takes me straight back home rather than remembering that I'm staying with Sage.

Mac is parked down the street, and he spots me before I can turn around and bolt.

Reluctance to get out of my car swarms me. I don't want a crappy conversation with Mac to derail my good mood, but it seems like I'm in a position to just get it over with.

My happy balloon deflates when he parks his truck on the street and climbs out before I can even get inside.

Chapter 36

Mac

Just because she came back to the house doesn't mean that she won't tell me to pack my stuff and get out the second we step inside.

She makes it to the porch and opens the door before I can take the steps up to the door. I don't know how to read the way she leaves the door open for me to enter. It may be just to make it easier to get my shit and leave, and that is possibly how this will go, but we'll have a conversation before that happens.

I'm exhausted with the way my brain hasn't had the chance to turn off in what feels like years. I'm not normally a man who doesn't know what his tomorrow is going to look like.

"I guess we need to talk," she says when I make it into the house.

She's standing across the room, arms crossed over her chest, and I hate the protective stance she thinks she needs to take.

Is she angry?

Is she sad?

Has she geared herself up to reject me?

What in the world happened from the kiss in my house yesterday to her avoiding me?

I open my mouth to speak, but I don't know how to have this conversation without making her run for the hills.

I want nothing more than for this woman to be the one to pack all of her things and come back with me. I want her to make my house our home. I want to watch her belly grow with my babies.

These are all things I never once would've considered before, and just the idea of them makes me a little worried that what she wants looks nothing like what I've been picturing.

I can't force my wants and needs onto her, and for the first time in my life, I'm terrified that things won't line up for me. This isn't something that I can put more effort into. I can't get up early and work hard to make this happen. If it isn't what she wants, then I somehow have to be okaywith it.

My hands tremble, forcing me to shove them in my pockets. I can't recall another time when I've been so afraid of what someone might say to me.

When my father passed, we knew it was coming. His death was decades in the making. The man worked hard to take care of his family and never once thought about taking care of himself, so we lost him much too young.

"Riley," I whisper as I approach her.

Her eyes glitter as she looks up at me, and I swear the woman looks like she's about to cry.

I run my hand down her arm, and to my credit, she doesn't immediately pull away from my touch, but the idea that she's just tolerating me standing in front of her until she tells me to leave eats away at me.

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