Page 101 of Finding Home

“The future Mr. Andrews?”Elle choked back a laugh.

“Oh, he’s going to takemyname after he has all my babies.”

“Have we told him this yet?”

“She sure has.” Viet shook his head.

“Stop clutching your metaphorical pearls, Viet. I wasn’tthatbad.” Willa’s glare glinted with playfulness.

“Hey!” Pete shouted from across the room. “Stop hogging Viet!”

“My public awaits.” Viet announced, grabbing the pitcher of beer in his left hand and looping his right arm in Elle’s.

“So does my future baby daddy.”Willa grabbed Elle’s drink with her right hand and looped her left arm in Elle’s.

“I love you both so much.” Elle gushed, walking arm and arm with her two best friends toward her favorite people.

THIRTY-EIGHT

“Do not let the behavior of others destroy your inner peace.”

~Jane Austen,Sense and Sensibility

By the time the impromptu party broke up, it was after midnight. Noah escorted Willa to the Little Red Barn, and Clayton had excused himself to get ready for bed. Elle showed Viet to the guest room.

“I still can’t believe you’re here,”she sighed, lounging on the bed with Viet.

“I think it’s more unbelievable thatyouare here,” Viet said as he stroked between Fitz’s ears.

“You were the one to convince me to come back home.”

“I’m not talking about here in Perry. I’m talking about you shacking up with Clayton.”

“I’m not shacking up.”

Viet made a “whatever” face.

Elle mumbled, “I’m just staying here.”

“I believe that’s the definition of shacking up.” Viet’s teasing smile lit up the dim room.

“What do you think of Clayton?”

“I like him.”

“I do too.”

“I think youmorethan like him.” He lifted his brow as he looked at her.

Elle’s eyes turned away from Viet’s perceptive stare, looking on to the framed photo of Letchworth hanging above the dresser. The canopy of vibrant green trees hanging over the weathered wooden bridge, a gentle stream dotted with fallen leaves below. It was easier to focus on that than answering her friend’s assessing stare.

“Have you told him?”

The words “I love him” didn’t need to slip from her lips. He read it in her face and the shift of her gaze that she hadn’t told Clayton, yet. God, he knew her so well.

“Elle.” His tone was reproachful.

“I can’t.”

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