Page 88 of Hot Shot

If there is, I can’t find it.

I see on her face that she knows.

“My darling, not too long ago I thought I was in love with someone else. But I wasn’t in love with Henry—I was in love with theideaof him. It wasn’t until I found Remy that I could see it. Because until him, I hadn’t been truly loved. Think about Davis. About your best times. About every good little moment and the big ones too.”

My chest buzzes with warmth as she continues.

“Now, think about Wilder. About the kisses and the laughter and all the little moments you’ve shared with him here at home. Imagine him with Cricket. Think of the way he looks at you,because we have all witnessed it, and no soul on earth could withstand that much love in one glance. Now how do you feel?”

Tears well in my eyes, partly from the pain of my heart exploding into fireworks.

Knowingly, she smiles.

“Were it different, if you loved Davis desperately, I’d agree. It would be too soon. But I don’t believe you did. And so, it’s my opinion that you’ve mourned long enough. If that’s what’s stopping you, I grant you permission to move on.”

I can’t say anything because I’m blubbering, so she pulls me into her arms. All this time I’ve been in a glass cage, and now that it’s been shattered by the knowledge, I’m free and fluttering and flying away, having shed what held me back.

It’s a good long moment before I’m composed enough to sit back. Shelby is at my elbow with a wobbly smile, her eyes all glittery too. And Jessa just looks lovely, content, her cheeks flushed with happiness.

A laugh slips out of me, and in the end I give her a look. “I cannot fucking believe you knew this whole time and didn’t tell me.”

And for a while, we laugh, and I cry, and I’m honest with myself for the first time in a decade. Ever since I saidI do.

All I have left to do is tell him.

CHAPTER 33

FUCK IT

CASS

The day is crisp and cloudless, and in the air is the scent of fall, barbecue, and several dozen gorgeous firefighters.

Okay, maybe they aren’tallPretty Young Things—at least half of them are in or nearing retirement age with more paunch than hair—but there are a shocking number of young, hot firefighters in our county, ladies and gentlemen alike. The crew from Carterville aren’t bad at all, and Franklinville showed up with a couple handfuls of beefcake. Riverville definitely did not come to play—I can see the veins in one of their guy’s biceps from thirty feet. But Roseville? We win the battle of the hottiesevery damn time.

I mean, maybe it’s the barbecue, but I’m pretty sure it’s a different kind of meat altogether that has every straight woman in a mile radius drooling.

One thing to note about Tennessee—nearly every town in our great state is some kind ofville. And don’t youeversay it like it’s spelled. Anything other thanvulis unacceptable and labels you instantly as an outsider in Appalachia—which, by the way,is AppaLATCHa, not that other way you Yankees say it. Take Louisville for example: to an Appalachian, the pronunciation is a slurred together version of Loo-a-vul. I once heard a comedian say it sounded like he had a dick in his mouth.

Honestly, it’s a good rule of thumb, if you want to get it right.

Five neighboring towns in total sent their fire department to the muster today, and they’ve been competing for a few hours now. Mostly, Wilder has been busy doing demonstrations and things between events, so we walked around the market with the gang a bit and sampled some of the fare. Jessa inhaled a strawberry shortcake with such intensity, she damn near bit me when I tried to get some. Honestly, she’s a freak for the stuff. She tried to tell me a story once about her and Remy and some homemade whipped cream, but I cut her off and told her to eternally shut up on the matter. They even bought the abandoned strawberry patch in town, though they have yet to make anything of it, despite going there all the time. Who even knows what they’re doing.

On second thought, I’m a hundred percent certain I don’t want to know.

But everyone is here, the knot of us moving around the grounds together without breaking. Mama is with Remy’s mom Linda and crazy aunt Julie, and the way those three have been blushing and giggling during events has me certain they’re objectifying the young men on display. Wilder’s dad Buck is sidled up next to Paul in his beat up old baseball cap. The two of them stay deep in conversation about fishing for what seems like most of the day. Remy is here of course, even with today being his birthday, which he occasionally announces so he’ll get his way. I think the only bite Jessa gave up of her funnel cake was to his birthday pandering.

A bunch of our friends are with us too, including guys from the team. Even Greyson showed up, the grumpy bastard, hisbeard barely softening the razor sharpness of his square jaw. I wonder if he’ll have a funny tan line after walking around with his arms folded across his massive chest and remind myself to check later.

Molly is with us too, happy as a clam, watching all that muscle run around with an innocent joy that, as a couple of pervs, Jessa and I do not possess. Somehow, we dig deep and manage to keep it PG since Cricket is with us, bouncing around between her old grandparents, new grandparents and great aunts, and of course me.

And I have been a bundle of nerves since last night.

I barely slept, my mind spinning around and around like a wheel. First, trying to figure out how to tell Wilder how I feel while resisting the urge to call/text/get in my truck and drive to him. Because I wanted to wait until we were alone. Until we could talk, and, you know…other stuff. Honestly, I don’t know what will happen if we aren’t alone, but I would like to avoid public sex, if possible.

Partly, I’m scared to tell him, though I couldn’t tell you why. It’s not as if I don’t know how he feels. I don’t think he’ll reject me, but for some reason the thought plucks my heartstrings. Maybe I’m afraid of what it will mean for us—what will happen now. If for some reason I’ll fail him, or find I’m not ready, despite piles of evidence to the contrary.

It’s just that the last time I did this, I ended up abandoned and betrayed.

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