Page 132 of Always Meant for You
She watches me. “You hate it, don’t you?”
“No,” I say, admiring the design. “I don’t.”
“I didn’t show anyone the design. I should have run it by the council for a vote, but it was an impulse buy. If this feels off-brand or tone-deaf, we can toss them out.”
I pick up the cap and ease it onto her head. “I used to think nothing could top you in my T-shirt,” I say quietly. “But this might. The hat’s perfect. The design nails it. The council’s going to love it.”
She adjusts it and checks her appearance in the rearview mirror. “So, not a total disaster?”
“It’s a win,” I say. “Jamie would have loved it, Mabel.”
Tears well in her eyes. “You think so?”
“I do.”
I unbuckle my seat belt, then hers.
“What are you doing, Cal?”
“I want to remember this. You in that hat. Eyes lit up.”
“You know what I see when I look at you?” she asks, scooting toward me.
She cups my face, her hands warm against my cheeks. Her thumbs brush the edge of my jaw, slow and steady. Then she leans in and presses the faintest kiss to the corner of my mouth.
“I see grit,” she whispers, then kisses me on the other corner of my mouth. “And perseverance.” She pulls back enough to hold my gaze. “You never walk away from anything. You hold the line even when no one’s watching. That’s what you’ve done for this town.”
Her mouth returns to mine. Slower this time.
She smiles against my mouth. “You carry everyone, Cal. And you don’t ask for anything in return. This broody demeanor you’ve perfected isn’t because you’re callous. It’s because you care. It’s because your word means something.”
My heart is in my throat. I keep my hands still, letting her take this moment however she needs.
She kisses me again, and then she leans back and picks up another green cap. “I look at you and see the most frustratingly handsome man alive,” she says with a twinkle in her eyes.
She sets the cap on my head. “There,” she says, looking me over. “You’ve been styled.”
“The fit’s good,” I murmur, glancing at myself in the mirror. “But I need to fix one thing.”
I rotate the bill to the back, hook my arm around her waist, and draw her in. I kiss her, coaxing her closer, her body easing into the space between us like she’s always belonged there. The kiss deepens, slower still, until she climbs into my lap, and every breath she exhales is mine to hold.
When she eases back, her nose grazes mine. “Hi,” she whispers, her voice barely there.
“Hi,” I echo, utterly captivated.
And while every night tangled up with her in my arms wrecks me in the best way, it’s these quiet moments that unravel me. All the little nothings that add up to big somethings.
She gives me hope.
And I’m hers.
“Cal,” she murmurs.
“Mm-hmm.”
“I’m buzzing.”
I hum against her. “Me too.”
