Page 86 of The Check Down

Her face lights up. “Your parents.” Her eyes gloss over as she studies their names. “Griff,” she says, peering up at me, “this is so special.”

I pull her to me, hugging her tight to my body. And when we kiss in the middle of the Holler Heart Path, all I can think about is how our handprints will look perfect side by side one day.

As we draw closer to the gazebo in the center of the square, Brynn pauses at each section of the sidewalk, looking over the names and handprints, pointing out the gaps between the years. She grabs my arm when we get to the last slab by the gazebo steps. The 2008 square.

She gasps and grabs my arm. “Is that—” She points to a large handprint in the corner. “Is that your brother?”

Grimacing, I scratch the beard I trimmed a little too close this morning. “Yep.”

She assesses me but doesn’t push for more, thank God. For a moment, she studies the sidewalk again, lingering on the name etched next to my brother’s.

I rest my hand on my lower back, and she takes it before I even wiggle my fingers. Watching for her reaction, I lead her up the steps to the center of the gazebo.

“Apiano.” Her voice is full of wonder as she smooths a hand along the brightly painted upright. “This is so cool. People play it?”

I nod at it. “Try it out.”

“I never learned how to play, but…” She presses a key, and her face lights up in delight.

My heart thumps against my sternum. Damn, I am so head over fucking heels for this woman.

“Who put this here?” She rounds the piano and wraps her arms around my waist.

“That, I’m afraid, is one of the great unsolved mysteries of Holly Holler. It appeared overnight several years ago.” I keep my theory about the piano’s existence to myself. “But someone covers it when the weather is really bad. And its paint job was courtesy of Ms. Mabel Abernathy, the art teacher at the high school.”

“Abernathy? So the couple from earlier—”

“Are her grandparents.”

“This is the cutest town. I love it here.”

Her praise is fucking music to my ears. Because the truth is that I’ve already pictured the things Mom mentioned in our chat this morning: A life with Brynn, after football. Maybe settling down here, raising a family. Fuck, I’d love to make a whole crew of babies with her.

When I see my parents pull up to the diner, we head that way. After the patrons give us an initial enthusiastic welcome, they leaveus alone so we can enjoy our lunch in peace. Dad insists on paying, and I let him. There’s no use fighting him over it.

While he waits at the counter with our bill, Mom gasps. “Griff, if you’re taking this girl to the Hoot tonight, you’d better take her to the DB for some boots.”

Brynn’s forehead wrinkles. “The DB?”

“The Dusty Britches.” Mom nods at the front window. “Across the street. It’s got a little bit of everything. But you can’t go to a honky-tonk without a pair of cowgirl boots.”

The thought of Brynn in a pair of western boots heats my blood. “Yep. Boots are a necessity for your saloon-night fit here in the Holler.”

“Wait.” She straightens, her face aglow. “Is Racy Lacey going to wear cowboy boots as part of his saloon-night fit?”

I tap her nose. “You’ll have to wait and see, professor.”

At the store, Brynn peruses the boot selection, considering the pros and cons of each pair. She narrows her choice to two sets, but then can’t decide whether to get them in black or brown. She gives me a scowl when I tell her we’ll get both colors.

Finally, she tries on a classic pair in black leather with tiny cream stitching details. “What do you think?” She points her toe and twists her foot from side to side.

With a peck to her lips, I pull her close. “I think I’m going to love spinning you around that dance floor tonight.”

And when she’s distracted by a rack of sunglasses, I buy her the boots in blackandbrown, because there’ll be many more Hoot ’N’ Holler nights in our future.

Chapter nineteen

Brynn