Page 60 of One Night

My eyebrow lifted. “Mm-hmm.”

He raised both palms. “I promise I had nothing to do with it, but I can’t say for sure when it comes to Lee. He loves that shit.”

I laughed and smoothed my napkin across my lap. “I swear, if you really think about it, it’s amazing how alike you all are.”

My shoulders fell as the reality of our situation hung in the air. Our families weren’t alike, not even close. In fact, theyhatedeach other, and here we were going to bring a baby into the center of that negative dynamic. My eyes started to fill.

Duke reached over and placed his hand on top of mine. “Hey.”

I let out a shaky breath. “I know, I just wish there was some way for everyone to get along. They don’t even have to like each other, but just something a little softer thanhatewould be nice, you know?”

Duke’s features were hard. I didn’t know all the details, but I knew the origins of the King–Sullivan feud went back generations. I only knew the stories from the Kings’ side. Lies. Secrets. Backhanded business deals. Constant one-upping. Lines drawn in the sand as alliances were made.

I could only imagine what the Sullivan side of that story told.

I looked at Duke. “How are we ever going to make this work?”

He frowned and looked at our hands. “I think the trick is to find two pieces that connect—that way we’ll have a place to start.”

“What do you mean?”

He looked at me with hopeful eyes and shrugged. “Maybe MJ. It’s possible she can be our puzzle piece. We start building there, and the rest will fall into place.”

I mulled over his words. MJ had a soft spot for Duke, and everyone in my family had a soft spot for her. She also kept my secret friendship with Duke quiet. Maybe shecouldbe the piece that helped bridge the gap between our families.

“You really think it could work?”

His dark eyes held mine. “Despite everyone in this town—in the entire world—it really is just us. Why are we letting them decide when we get to be happy?”

When he put it like that, so confidently, it seemed so simple.

For the first time, I held on to something new.

Hope.

TWENTY-ONE

DUKE

Daryl Hall

Cat Fact 27: Your cat marks you by rubbing against you to combine their scent with yours and claim you as your property.

Did you steal my sweatshirt again?

Sure did.

The weathered barkof the blueberry bushes was silver and gray. Mornings were eerily silent. Fresh snow had fallen, blanketing the fields in deep powder. The farm needed that harsh reset. The dormancy only prepared them for the next season as their red canes contrasted against the crisp winter sky. With the fields winterized and equipment put away, it offered the chance to check the books, comparing previous years’ profits and losses.

Sullivan Farms had made it through another successful year.

I leaned back in my chair, tossing my glasses on the desk and pressing a thumb into my eye socket. I needed to get out of the house—off the farm—and clear my head. I glanced at the clockand realized it was as good a time as any to see what Dad was up to, so I grabbed my keys and headed toward the edge of town.

They could never hide the distinct smell of antiseptic, no matter how much air freshener was pumped into Haven Pines. My boots beat down on a familiar path toward the memory care wing of the retirement home. I gave my customary nods and terse greetings to the familiar-faced nurses.

Dad’s clinical trial was well underway, and while there were still rough days, slowly, the good days had begun to outweigh the bad. It was our first glimmer of hope that we wouldn’t lose him entirely—at least not as rapidly as we had once thought.

When I was buzzed into the memory care wing, I noticed Dad’s porch light outside his room was off. It meant either he wasn’t up for visitors, or he was out and about on the grounds.

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