But he took those damn reviews down, and he got his car back. All’s well that ends well, except for the fact that he’s blacklisted from my garage for the rest of his life, and if he ever goes near Audrey again—physically or virtually—he’ll be in real trouble.

Because that’s the thing about cowards—their bravado only extends to people they know they can shove around. And I’m not one of those people.

Smirking, I dry myself off and pull on a pair of sweats. On bare feet, with my hair still dripping onto my bare shoulders, I make my way to the front door, ready for a fight.

But the sight that greets me is one I’ve seen in my dreams. Audrey stands on my stoop wearing a fluttery blue dress, her hair dancing in the summer breeze, holding a home-baked pecan pie.

My mouth is suddenly dry. I did it for her—of course I did. I got that idiot to take down the reviews. I made a trip to Santa Rosa. I mowed her lawn.

I hoped it meant we could speak to each other again, but now she’s here, and I find that all the words have fled from my mind. I can’t think of a single thing to say.

She gulps. “I made pie,” she says.

My gaze drops to the dish, and warmth unfurls in my chest. “Is that for me or my grandma this time?”

Lips curling, Audrey shrugs. “It’s for the person who held my ex-husband’s car hostage until he stopped cyberbullying me.”

“Ah,” I nod, heart thumping.

“And also for the person who mowed my lawn, if they happen to be one and the same.”

My throat is so tight it’s hard to speak. “They are,” I tell her.

Tears shimmer in Audrey’s eyes. “Thank you,” she whispers, then extends the pie toward me.

Instead of taking it, I open the door a little wider. Watching Audrey’s chest rise as she inhales, I try to still my thumping heart as she steps inside my home.

Suddenly, everything is better. I missed having her here. Missed her face, her laughter, her voice. I missed everything about her, and I never want to feel that way again.

“Is Danny here?”

“Sleepover at Jace’s,” I explain.

“Ah.”

We walk to the kitchen, where she places the pie down. She’d been carrying it with potholders, and she slips them off her hands before turning to face me. Her gaze rakes over my chest, my shoulders, up to the hair still leaving droplets on my body.

“Hi,” she says shyly.

My arms are around her before I give myself conscious permission to move. I have her crushed to my chest so fast she lets out a little oof of surprise, and then there’s no time to talk because I’m kissing her. Her lips are soft, pillowy, and perfect. She tastes like heaven. The feel of her hands shaping my shoulders and tangling into my wet hair is a tonic to my weary soul.

I pull away from her only far enough to meet her gaze, gripping the hair at the back of her head to tilt her face up to mine. “I’m sorry, Audrey.”

Confusion flits across her features. “For what?”

“For being so hard on you and pulling away when you needed me. I’m sorry I got mad. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you through the hard times.”

She shakes her head, eyes wide. “What? No! I’m sorry, Remy. I messed up. You asked me for a simple favor, and I was so wrapped up in my own world that I let you down. It was my fault.” Her lip wobbles. “And now you fixed the review problem, and you mowed my lawn, and I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you because pie doesn’t actually make up for everything you did for m—”

Lips crushed to hers, I let out a moan when she softens against me. I drop a kiss on her jaw. “Pie makes up for everything,” I tell her, running my lips down her throat. “You being here is everything I need.”

“That’s not fair to you.” She gasps when I cup her breast and knead. God, I missed touching her.

“I’m not worried about things being fair.” I kiss her harder, wanting her to understand. But when I pull away, she’s just as confused as ever. I hold her, leaning my forehead against hers. “Audrey, I’m in love with you.”

“You… What?”

I meet her gaze and smile softly. “I love you, sweetheart. I’ve loved you from the moment you opened my cutlery drawer and looked at me like I was a psychopath.”