Page 56 of A Fine Line

I could feel my blood boil at the way he said, “cute little business,” like she was some kid with a lemonade stand. As if she hadn’t busted her ass to make it all happen. As if she hadn’t built everything from nothing because that was exactly what he left her with. Nothing but the shell of her old self who she had to build back up piece by piece.

Before Winnie could even respond, I jumped in. “Incredible, actually. I’ve had my truck parked in the same spot for two years, but the night she showed up, she had people lined up so far I had to close early. Literally couldn’t even get out because of her crowd.”

I glanced down at her, smirking. “And she was so sweet about it too, acting like she felt bad for me while taking all the business for herself. She knew she had me in the palm of her hand then.” I said, looking back at Marshall and his wife. “So yeah, nothing cute or little about it. My girl works her ass off and gets results, right, baby?” I nudged her, still going. Winnie just gave me this look, amusement, maybe a tad of confusion, but there was this smile resting in it that told me she was loving this almost as much as I was. And I was enjoying it a lot.

“In fact, ever since we got together, everything’s doubled. Seems like nothing around here’s been cute or…” I let my eyes drop to Marshall’s crotch, just to drive the point home, “little in a long time.”

Winnie snorted beside me before quickly regaining her posture, and I reveled watching Marshall stiffen. The blonde at his side shifted uncomfortably, taking a step closer to him.

I gave Winnie’s hip a pat. “We should probably head out. Nice seeing you guys.” And with that, I turned us around, slipping my hand into her back pocket and giving her butt a squeeze as we walked out the door. The perfect little period to the end of our point.

Once we were in the ATV, buckled up and ready to go, I glanced over at her. “Are you okay?”

She was quiet, staring straight ahead.

“Did I go too far? I’m sorry, Win. It’s just the way he looked at you, like you were less than them or something, and I just… I don’t know, I saw red.”

Her shoulders started to shake, head dipping to the seat cushion below her and for a second, I thought I’d really messed up. “Win, baby, I’m sorry.”

Then she looked up, and I realized she was laughing. This big laugh that was silent and yet took up residence in my chest as I memorized seeing this look on her.

I was still feeling a little unsure, but then, in a heartbeat, her hands were on me. She wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me in, her lips crashing against mine. It wasn’t soft or hesitant; it was hungry, like she’d been holding back and suddenly couldn’t anymore.

I froze for just a second, caught off guard by the intensity of it, but then my caveman instinct kicked in quickly. My hands moved to her waist, gripping her like she might slip away if I didn’t hold on tight enough. Her body pressed against mine, as close as I could get her in this thing, and I could feel the heat radiating off her as our lips moved in tandem. Pressing, and pulling, and teasing, and taking our sweet time.

Finally, my chest sang out. I had wondered what kissing this girl would be like for the last three years and now I had her, sitting right in the palm of my hands. It felt like I was holding onto a work of art, something fragile made out of glass that could break any moment and yet was somehow sturdy; pushing me back every bit of what I gave her. Both of us hungry and desperate.

She tasted like the coffee I’d just handed her, sweet with a hint of caramel, and I couldn’t help but lose myself in it. Her fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me even closer, and I let out a small groan, responding by tightening my grip around her waist. With my fingers dipping behind her sweater, I gripped her warm, pale skin and pulled her as close as the space between the seats would allow, wishing there was nothing else between us.

The kiss was slow and fast at the same time, a mix of urgency and tenderness. She kissed me like she needed me, like she was pouring every emotion into it—gratitude, relief, and something more. Something I was dying for more of. I felt her chest rise and fall against mine, her breath quickening, and it drove me wild. I couldn’t think about anything else but the feel of her lips, the way her body fit so perfectly against mine, how this felt like the most right thing in the world.

When she finally pulled back, we were both breathless. Her lips were swollen, her eyes shining with unshed tears as they met mine. For a second, I didn’t want to let her go. I wanted to pull her back in and kiss her until we both forgot what we were doing or where we were. But the smile that crept onto her face, soft and genuine, left me just watching her. Waiting for her. Hanging on her every word.

I sat there, staring at those perfect lips that just left mine, wondering how in the world I hated this woman for so long. Or at least had convinced myself that I had.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. She smiled up at me. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I don’t think anyone’s ever stood up for me like that.”

I leaned in, brushing my forehead against hers. “That’s because I wasn’t there. You’ve got me now.”

She grinned. “Yeah, I do.”

Winnie turned back forward to put the ATV in reverse, then paused, her eyes sliding back to me. “Did you really insinuate that he had a small—”

“Yup.” I shrugged. She burst out laughing again, and we took off, leaving all of it behind us.

The rest of the day felt like a dream—one of those perfect days where nothing else mattered but being together. And maybe it wasn’t just her that was changing. For the first time, I wasn’tjust passing through. This place, this life… it felt like maybe, just maybe, I belonged here too. With her.

Because if she was going somewhere, then I was ready to follow her.

Thanksgiving morning was always a big deal at Willow Creek. Pumpkin pie competitions, which I normally always won, turkey carving, football on the front lawn, planning for Christmas swaps and early mornings where every woman in the family piled in the kitchen while the men and kids stayed outside until we were done yelling at them to quit dipping their fingers in the sweets.

It was chaotic and beautiful and stressful. And I loved it.

I especially loved it when I woke up to Crew this morning, rubbing lazy circles over my back. Whispering good morning sweetness over my shoulder. Around two am I forced him to get off the floor. He insisted the bed was still, years later, ‘covered in Marshall germs’ but I insisted he could rub his Crew germs over it all he wanted for payback.

So, Crew being Crew, he took his shirt off and rolled around on my bed back and forth in my sheets till he was satisfied there was nothing but his scent and mine mixing together in the perfect cocktail. We both slept in. Hard. Hard enough to miss everyone else in the house hustling and bustling around getting ready for Thanksgiving dinner. Our eyes stayed shut, hands wrappedaround one another like we were playing thumb war again until my aunt Sonja knocked on the door, a reminder that our little bubble was popped.

Crew, reluctantly, let go of my hand and I got ready to join the chaos that was my family downstairs.