Page 85 of Long Time Coming

“It’s okay.” I come to the kitchen, where he’s laid out what he’s hunted and gathered for me. Sliding my fingers into the hair at the back of his head, I kiss him—long and deep and filled with the passion he’s shown me all weekend. When I pull back, I lick the corners of my lips, and say, “I’m going to miss you so much.”

Am I marking my territory?Maybe.

Am I making sure he knows exactly what he’ll be missing?Absolutely.

His arms come around my waist, and he’s so handsome when he grins that I consider changing my flight so I never leave his arms again. “Nice shirt.”

“You like it?”

“So fucking sexy, babe.”

We kiss once more, but this time when our lips separate, the inevitable sinks in. I’m leaving, and he’s staying. “We have the Peach Festival to look forward to.”

“Three weeks. That’s all.” Caressing my face, he wipes under my eyes with his thumb, catching the sadness before it falls. “It will fly by. I promise.”

Light laughter escapes me. “I hear you’re not the best at keeping promises.”

“I’ve broken one promise,” he exclaims through laughter. “One.” Kissing my head, he then hands me a blueberry muffin. “And it was worth it.”

* * *

The winds were with my flight, so we landed early.Thankfully.

I’m so ready to be out of my head thinking about that encounter with Anna. I’m not sure how I feel—both irritated and small. I hate that I allowed someone to affect me that way. I had no clever comeback, but that wouldn’t have been the right thing to do. Starting a war with her will never end for me when they share a son. And I care about Beckett and his well-being enough to tolerate a little insult.

I’m still conflicted about whether I did the right thing by not mentioning it to Tagger. Everything comes out in the wash, they say. Do I want to control the narrative by pleading my case first, or is staying silent the right thing to do? I don’t know. It’s given me a lot to think about, though.

The earlier arrival time allows me to stop by Peaches before they close on my way home. I swing the door open, and sing, “I’m baaaack.”

Lauralee comes from the kitchen and greets me with a huge smile on her face. “Hey, you. How was the conference?” I meet her at the counter, and we stretch over it to hug.

“What conference?”Oh crap!It dawns on me too late. This is why I should never lie.

“The Farmers of Central Texas conference you just attended all weekend in Dallas.”

A humorless laugh rattles my throat. “Oh, that.Right.It was a convention, not a conference.” I inwardly roll my eyes at how ridiculous that sounds.

Grimacing, she says, “I didn’t know there was a difference.”

“Oh yeah.” I try to leave it at that and add, “The place looks good.”

“What’s the difference?”

I reach for a cup and head for the fountain machine. “One serves coffee. Was it busy this weekend with the peaches starting to ripen?”

She replies, “It’s picking up.”

Coming to the counter, I dig a bill out of my wallet, thinking it’s in my best interest to hightail it home because I know I’ll fail a Lauralee Knot interrogation. “Keep the change,” I say, already heading for the door.

“It’s a twenty.”

Oops.I wave it off like I’m Ms. Moneypants, then shoulder the door open. “Keep it. See you soon.”

Really not wanting a repeat of what happened at Peaches, I’m more careful and have the story straight by the time I reach the ranch. I open the door and drag in my suitcase. Seeing the back of his head in the living room, I say, “Hi, Dad, I’m home.”

He gets up from his recliner and comes to give me a big hug. “Christine, how is my daughter?”

“I’m good. How about you? Have you had dinner?”

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