Page 120 of Perfectly Grumpy

“Sunny.” His laugh is disbelieving. “If you think that was acting, then I missed my calling in Hollywood. My feelings won’t change because an ex sends a message. They won’t change even if you get the job in Kansas City. They won’t change, period.”

I search his face. “So you’re okay with me potentially leaving?”

“If that’s what makes you happy, then yes—as long as you feel the same about me.” He steps closer, near enough that I have to tilt my head back to see him clearly. “So the question is—do you?”

He waits for my answer patiently, his gaze never leaving mine.

“I’ve tried so hard not to love you,” I finally say. “Because you were a hockey player, because it was complicated, because I was scared. But I couldn’t stop myself. I love you so much it scares me. You’re making me question everything I thought I wanted.”

“Then maybe the Kansas City trip will be exactly what you need to make a decision.”

I blink. “You want me to go?”

“I want you to besure.” He brushes a strand of hair from my face. “So here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to go to that interview, and while you’re there, you’re going to figure out what you really want. Just you. No pressure from your family, from me, from anyone.”

“A whole week without talking to you?”

He looks at me knowingly. “Oh, I’m counting on you trying to break that rule.” His thumb traces my lower lip, making my breath catch. “I’m betting by day three, you’ll be reaching for your phone, wishing you’d let me kiss you one more time.”

“Your predictions are annoyingly accurate sometimes,” I say, not fighting my smile.

“I hope,” he says with a chuckle. Then he leans closer, his breath warm against my ear. “I really,reallywant you to miss me, Sunny. Because I already know I’m going to be counting every second until you come back to me.”

His hands cup my face tenderly, thumbs tracing the curve of my cheekbones. When his lips finally meet mine, it’sbreathtakingly gentle—a kiss that starts soft before deepening into something that rewrites my understanding of how good a kiss can be.

His lips move against mine like he’s memorizing the taste of me, the way I fit against him, and when his lips trail across my jaw, I melt completely. This isn’t just a kiss—it’s a promise. Something so achingly perfect I know I’ll be replaying it every moment I’m away from him.

When we finally step apart, his forehead rests against mine, and I can see myself reflected in his glasses. I want this week to go on forever—for us to stay frozen in our summer vacation bubble, alone in the cabin with nothing but candlelight as he reads to me until dawn.

But even as my heart is telling me to stay, to forget Kansas City and choose him right now, I know Tate is right. At some point, I have to besure.

“There,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing across my lips. “Now you’ll have something to remember while you’re gone. And when you come back, if you still want this…” He holds my face in both hands, kissing my forehead lightly. “I’ll be here waiting for you.”

THIRTY-NINE

Tate

When I get back to Rose & Thorn, I don’t expect the house to be full. Jaz is taking out a batch of scones from the oven, one hand resting on her very pregnant belly. Sloan is next to her, hair twisted up in a messy bun, arranging dough on a tray while Vale and Brax try unsuccessfully to put together a baby swing. Scattered parts adorn the dining room table, the directions spread out in front of them like they’ve already given up.

Rourke and Leo are sprawled on opposite ends of the couch, trading insults over how to correctly eat a scone even though it’s clear neither of them has a clue. Lucian is at the sink doing dishes, ignoring their argument.

I thought I’d have some time to collect my thoughts. Maybe work on my book. Anything to get my mind off of the week I just had with Lauren. But this house doesn’t do quiet.

“How was the reunion?” Jaz asks as I come into the kitchen. Before I can answer, she holds up a baked good. “Scone?”

I smell the orange and cranberry before I take a bite, and the sweet citrus scent hits me with the memory of Lauren. I close my eyes and savor it, already knowing this is exactly how the entire week is going to go—everything reminding me of her.

Jaz tilts her head and studies me. “That good, huh?”

“Look who’s back from my big, fat, Greek family reunion,” Leo interrupts as he strolls into the kitchen.

“It wasn’t big, fat, or Greek,” I counter. “Get your adjectives right.”

“I forgot how much I don’t miss your grammar lessons, Sheriff.” He looks me over as he opens the fridge door. “You look suspiciously like a man who fell in love.”

I sigh. “I didn’t even make ithalfthe week before I completely lost all logical thinking.”

“What happened?” Leo asks.

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