Page 21 of Sweeter

“God, no!” I say, genuinely surprised. “I meant someone hot and funny who likes daddy sex.”

Will smiles and with that flash of teeth, my cosmonaut returns to earth. “Seriously?” he asks.

“Of course! Why, do you need proof?”

“I wouldn’t mind some.”

“Give me a second.” I run back to the door and grab the keychain looped over the handle. I jog back to Will and hand it over. “I made this the day you left. I’ve carried it ever since.”

He stares down at the tiny metal toolbox. “You made this for me?”

“I did. Open it.”

Will flips open the lid. Inside is a tiny terracotta heart I painted blue and gold. He looks at me, wordlessly asking me to explain.

“I could be wrong,” I say. “But when I saw you with your toolbox, you looked peaceful and, I don’t know,rightfor the first time. I don’t know if that means you should go back to Missouri and be near your parents or become a sexy repairman full-time, but I wanted to show you where your heart is.”

“Marley…”

“I know it’s cheesy, but I’m painfully sincere and sometimes that makes cheese. You’ll have to let it slide if we start seeing each other.”

Will closes his big fist around the keychain. “First of all, it’s not an ‘if.’ Secondly, I can’t believe you made this because I just got a job at a garage in Helena.”

My mouth falls open. “You’re going to be a mechanic?”

“Yeah. Probably not at this place, but once I’ve remastered the basics, I’m thinking I might start my own business. I used to be into rebuilding muscle cars, now I’ve got the money to do it full-time. I could open a place, hire some people who need work. Make things I'm actually proud of.”

I smile so wide it hurts. “You found something you want to do.”

Will shakes his head. “You showed me what to do—that you can make things that really matter for people who appreciate them.”

As they’ve done so many times these past weeks, the backs of my eyes burn. I raise a reflexive fist to wipe away the tears, but then Will opens his arms and I gladly move toward him. He folds me against his body and we squeeze together, tight as a bow.

“Sorry for throwing a coffee in your face and telling you you’re a bumbling tech bro asshole. Forgive me?”

He kisses my forehead. “Of course. Do you forgive me for sending you the money?”

“As long as I get to pay for all our dates for the first month.”

Will huffs out a laugh. “Deal.”

“But you’re not my sugar daddy. And I’m not your sugar baby.”

His expression goes sexy-stern in a way I’ve craved more than sugar and coffee and margaritas combined. “But Iamyour daddy and you aremybaby.”

“Shh,” I whisper self-consciously. “That’s bedroom only.”

“I can live with that.” Will pulls me in for a kiss.

And because sometimes lifeisa Lifetime movie cliché, the sun chooses that moment to pierce the clouds and bathes us in citrus light. We break apart to look at the sky.

“That’s unexpected,” I say.

“No,you’reunexpected.” Will kisses my cheeks, my nose, my brow. “I have a feeling we’re going to be awesome together.”

I grab his hat and cram it onto my head. “I have the same feeling, Tech Bro.”

He pinches my ass, but he doesn’t take his hat back. We smile at one another, letting the moment wash over us. Then we say it, at once, in exactly the same way.

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