Page 69 of The Love Wager

He raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “You sure we’re dressed for one of those?” His eyes flick over my jeans and tank top again, but there’s no judgment, only curiosity.

“Trust me,” I reply with a shrug, my fingers already reaching for his callused hand. The warmth of his skin sends a small jolt of electricity through me.

I pause for a moment just to take him in. His casual outfit and relaxed posture—it’s clear he wasn’t expecting anything fancy. I let the silence stretch long enough to make him sweat. Then I pull him toward me, and as we walk down the pier, I can’t help but smile. This, right here, feels like the perfect start to our date.

“I can’t believe you got fried fish when you could’ve had fresh!” I tease Brooks as we toss our empty to-go containers into the trash bin, the salty breeze blowing off the waves crashing into the pillars below.

He laughs, shaking his head with a grin. “Red, I’m from Georgia. There’s not much fresh seafood to be had in Abaline. The fried option seemed the safest bet—and it was delicious. Maybe you should try it next time.”

I laugh, knowing full well that I usually alternate between ordering fried and fresh myself. But giving him a hard time isjust too easy, and something about how he rolls with it lightens my heart. He doesn’t take it too seriously, which makes him feel so… safe.

“Take a walk with me?” I ask, glancing out toward the horizon. The sun dipped below the water's edge as we ate, leaving a darkening sky behind. There’s a stillness between us, and I know it’s time. Time to talk. It's time to face the fact that Brooks is here for me. And that fact has been gnawing at me since he unexpectedly popped up in my office.

We can’t keep pretending it’s just another casual date. Not when he left his family, business, and everything he knew back in Georgia. Not when we live on opposite sides of the country, yet he’s here—for me. But I can’t bring it up yet. It’s not as easy as it sounds.

I hold my breath as I watch him toe off his boots and stick my sandals inside to carry together before reaching for my hand. We walk toward the water, our footsteps sinking slightly into the soft sand, the waves crashing in the distance. The sound of the carnival games along the pier, the chatter of tourists, and the faint hum of city life all remind me of how different California is from where he comes from. And, in that moment, it feels like I’m straddling two worlds.

“This is my first trip to the Pacific,” he says, his voice low as we walk side by side.

“And?” I prod, trying to lighten the tension building in my chest. “What do you think?”

He looks over the water, squinting out into the dark abyss of the sea as if searching for the answer. “I expected it to be different from the Georgia coast. But there’s still sand, and there’s still water.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Wow. How astute of you.”

He chuckles, squeezing my hand. “The town’s different, though. Faster, louder. Everyone seems so… disconnected.” Hepauses, glancing at me as we continue walking. “I’m sure that’s the small-town guy in me talking. But do you love it here?”

His question catches me off guard, the words hanging between us like a weight I wasn’t prepared for. I stop, my heart suddenly racing. The answer isn’t as easy as I thought it would be.

Do I love it here?

I don’t respond right away, and Brooks notices. He stops beside me, his presence a familiar strength as he gently pulls me toward him. Our shoes drop to the sand, forgotten, as the chilled ocean waves wash over our bare feet.

His hands settle on my waist, and I look up at him. His gaze is steady, searching, but there’s something else there—vulnerability. He wants to know. Really know.

“Is California where you want to be, Indie?” His voice is softer now, more serious.

I open my mouth to respond, but the words get tangled in my throat. I’ve been avoiding this question, pretending it wasn’t something I needed to face. But Brooks is here, and he’s been asking the question circling in my head since I returned from Georgia.

I look out over the water, the waves reflecting the moon's faint light, and I feel the familiar pull of the California dream: the opportunities, the hustle, the people who are always planning and always creating. It’s where my business is finally thriving. Every day reminds me that I have achieved something so many have tried and failed to do.

But is it home?

“If California is home, and it makes you happy, I want to be here too,” he murmurs, his voice a whisper against the rush of the tide. “I can work at a bar anywhere. It’s the same song and dance regardless of the price on the menu. But only if you want this, Indie. Only if you want me to be part of it.”

His words hang in the air, waiting for me to finally give him an answer. I swallow, feeling a strange mix of relief and fear. I’m relieved because he’s allowing me to have everything, but facing an all-or-nothing scenario is terrifying. He’s leaving it up to me, but the choice is the most challenging part. The answer I’ve been avoiding is because, with him, it won’t be a casual hookup that fades out in a couple of weeks. It’ll be a commitment, with the possibility of forever.

I take a deep breath, pulling away slightly to look at him, my fingers weaving into the hairs at the nape of his neck.

"I don’t know," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. "I have a life here, Brooks. A career. I thought that was all I needed. Shit, before my trip to Georgia, it was exactly what I needed." I pause, my heart tightening. "But then you came stomping into the scenario, and now I’m scared. What if that all crumbles one day, and I realize the job never fulfilled me?”

He nods, his gaze steady and understanding. "You don’t have to have all the answers right now, Indie. But whatever you choose, I’ll be here."

I lean into him then, and the warmth of his chest against my cheek is a comfort. For a moment, I let the world fall away—the noise, the questions, the weight of the decisions—and just let myself feel. With him, I have something I haven’t in a long time—a sense of peace. Maybe I don’t have all the answers on how this plays out. But the one thing that is incredibly clear now is that I want Brooks Holt in my life.

Epilogue

SIX MONTHS LATER

---