Page 116 of The Flirty Vet

And I want to be with him.

So…what do I do? Ignore reality and follow my heart? That doesn't sound like me, but maybe there are moments in your life where you should do the thing you normally wouldn't do, and maybe this is one of them.

I look up and see his reflection faintly in the window. "What do you want?"

He frowns. "Want?"

"Yeah. From a relationship." I keep my eyes on him in the reflection.

His breath skates along the back of my neck as he mulls it over. "I'm a simple person." He wraps his fingers tighter around my middle. "I just want someone who tolerates me. Someone who would be happy living in Scuttlebutt. And someone who will, you know, let me stick it in every once in a while."

He finds my eyes in the window, and I smile.

Fuck.

That sounds perfect.

24

Wilby

"More apple pie, my love?" Gran asks me with a grin in her eye as she slides Col a fresh slice.

His third.

Not that I'm counting or anything, and I don't miss how Gran's question was aimed at me and not him. I guess after two days of him being here, she's learnt it's easier to assume he'll always want more food than to keep asking him. Something about that makes my heart happy.

"Thanks, Polly," he says, glancing up briefly to smile at her, before burying his head back in the mountain of paperwork that's overtaken the dining room table.

"I'm good. Thanks, Gran."

She smiles and winks at me, and as Col mutters some numbers to himself, a pencil hanging out the corner of his mouth as he bangs on the old-school calculator Kolby insisted he borrow from him over breakfast this morning, I lean back in my chair and just…enjoy this moment.

Gran baking in the kitchen.

The kids in school.

And Emma's back. She finally got Katrina checked into a ninety-day rehab clinic, which is great news. We're all hoping that it works for her this time.

It's beeninterestingwatching Emma interact with Col.

The thing about her is that she can be very intimidating. Short and heavyset, with a buzzcut and a resting bitch face, the overprotective sister vibes emanate off her like heat off a bitumen road in the middle of summer. So when she glares at people the way she's been sizing Col up these past few days, most of them back away in fear. Not him, though. I briefed him on what to expect, and I've got to say, he's handling her like a pro.

My eyes land on him, chewing the life out of the end of his pencil, working together with me on a way that we can at least keep our family home.

I feel bad about being a shit and making things hard for him. If I'd heard him out and given him a chance, I'd have seen firsthand he really is sincere about finding a solution that works for everyone.

Still, he mustn't be too mad about it because when we got back to Scuttlebutt and I suggested he stay at our place rather than in town, he agreed without so much as a word of protest.

Not to mention the whole accidentally asking-but-not-asking me to be his boyfriend thing.

I haven't grilled him about it. It's one of those things that slipped out of his mouth, and as someone with a looong history of saying things I shouldn't, I'm not going to make a big deal out of it.

Maybe it was a Freudian slip, maybe he means it, maybe he doesn't. Who knows? I did fuck him senseless for several hours afterwards because I'm not above using sexual release as a coping method to fight against the very real feelings I'm developing for him.

I know what answer I'd have given him if he was asking for real—that's a no-brainer—but I also need to keep some perspective here. The very real feelings I'm developing for him won't go anywhere because they can't.

We have no future. I keep repeating that, hoping it breaks through into my thick skull.