Page 20 of If This Was a Movie

“The reality is, Nate, if you say no, you’re going to have the three of us, Sophie, and Mom, mad at you. You know this town: I give it three hours until word gets to Mom, and you know somehow she’s going to know about everything.”

Whether Sloane means Jules not having a place to stay or our history, or Claire’s meddling, it doesn’t matter, it’s true either way. Sighing, I know there’s no way to avoid this, so I nod. “Fine, I’ll offer, but I’m not forcing her to stay with me.”

“Of course! Of course!” Claire says, all three sisters nodding vehemently in a way I do not believe at all.

“And I don’t want you to either. She stopped talking to me for a reason, and no matter what, we have to respect that. In fact, I think you should head out so we don’t overwhelm her anymore. I’ll figure the rest out.”

To my shock and awe, there are nods of agreement, and Claire offers to drive Sutton and Sloane home. Never in my life have I seen my sisters leave anywhere so quickly, each giving Sophie a kiss and me a hug before walking off, whispering and giggling to each other.

Even though I want to be annoyed with their meddling, I can’t.

Because whether she likes it or not, Jules is going to be sleeping on my property tonight, and I can’t be mad about that.

“What are you still doing here?” Jules asks when she walks out of her building with Mark and walks our way. She changed while she was up there, now in a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt, my jacket pulled on over top with a large lavender-colored duffel bag over her shoulder.

The jacket looks much better on her than me, even if it’s three sizes too big.

“Waiting for you,” I say with a smile.

“Why?” she asks, clearly confused.

“Because,” I start, taking her bag before she can argue and hefting it over my shoulder. “I feel like we have a lot to talk about.”

She sighs, standing before me with her arms crossed on her chest, exhaustion clear in her eyes. “I’ve had a really,reallylong night, Nate,” she starts. “I appreciate your con?—”

“Where are you going tonight?” I ask, cutting her off.

“What?” She looks at me, brows furrowed in confusion like the words don’t make any sense.

“Where are you going tonight? A friend’s place? Family?”

“I’ll probably book a hotel room for the night and figure something more long-term out after that. I can’t move in until the town reapproves.” She straightens her shoulders like she’s preparing for an argument. “I’ll get more info on timelines and whatnot tomorrow?—”

“No, you won’t,” I say bluntly.

“What?”

“You won’t get more information tomorrow. I work in this industry, and you’re not going to get more info unless you already have a contractor on speed dial. And even then, it’sSaturday. Chances of them being able to get the right info and rush things to get you answers tomorrow? Very slim.” Her jaw goes tight, and I watch as she tries to rework whatever plan she’s made in her mind, but I smile. “Luckily, I happen to be a contractor with all the right contacts.”

“That’s not—” she starts, but I interrupt her.

“When was the last time you ate?” I ask. It’s almost seven, and I know by now that Sophie is starving, even if she won’t admit it because of all the excitement.

“What?” Jules asks, confused by the change in subject.

“Last time you ate. I specifically remember you telling me you snack all day, eat every three hours, or you get cranky.” Her head moves back like she’s confused, unsure of why I remember that tiny fact she shared with me, but she doesn’t know I remember everything about her.

“It’s every two hours, but?—”

“So let’s go. Come to dinner with us,” I say, tipping my head down the block and starting to move.

“Dinner?” she asks, moving to follow us reluctantly, though she doesn’t have much of a choice, considering I have her bag. I wave at one of the firefighters wrapping things up, but I don’t miss Sophie letting go of my hand and switching sides on the walkway to grab Jules’s.

“Daddy said we’d go to the diner where they sing! Do you like grilled cheeses?” Sophie shouts, still not having figured out volume control yet.

Jules bites her lip, looking so fucking cute as she does, clearly trying to weigh her choices but not wanting to be rude to a five-year-old. Eventually, she nods. “Yes, I love them, especially from the diner. Have you ever had their milkshakes?”

Sophie squeals with excitement. “No! Can we get one, Dad? Please!”

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