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Oh my. I just committed to going to California with Liam. Next weekend.
Without asking for time off. Without checking my calendar. Without conferring with Everly.
I just did it.
Because it felt right.
And I really hoped I wouldn’t regret this.
The rest of Peach Fest passed by in a blur, I was so caught up in my plans for next weekend with Liam.
Would he be able to find something for me to wear? Was I going to meet his family? His friends? What if everyone thought I was some bumbling country girl, not good enough for him?
Oh gawd. Maybe I should back out now, before I embarrassed myself.
But then Liam slid his arm around me, resting his hand on the small of my back, and the world righted itself again. Fresh peach-scented air flowed around me, rays from the bright orange sunset streaked the darkening sky, and I knew—deep down—that this was right,wewere right.
I could do this. Even more, Ishoulddo this.
The Rowdy would somehow manage without me. Everly would be okay for one weekend on her own. And I’m sure Liam’s assistant (OMG—he had anassistant!) would manage to find me something to wear.
It would all be okay.
We would be okay.
So I breathed and enjoyed my time with the best thing that ever happened to me.
“You sure you don’t want anything else?” Liam asked, pointing at his peach ice cream cone.
“Uh-uh. No way. One ice cream and fourteen other treats is plenty for one day,” I said, patting my stomach.
“Party pooper,” Liam said, crunching the last bite of his cone.
“Macy! Liam!” Everly spotted us from fifteen yards away and came jogging over, giving me a huge hug, like I hadn’t seen her just this morning back at the apartment.
“How are you guys?” she asked, breathless from her little sprint. “Having fun?” She stared at us, assessing the situation.
“Yeah, it’s been great,” Liam said, casually wrapping his arm around my waist and bringing me in close to his body.
“Did you ride the tilt-a-whirl?” Everly asked, one brow raised high.
“Funny, Ev, real funny,” I said, kicking at her toe.
“What? I know it’s your favorite,” she teased, grinning, her dark eyes gleaming in the glow of the Ferris wheel lights.
“I sense a story here,” Liam said, peering at me, then my sister.
“Macyhatesthe tilt-a-whirl. One year I begged her to go on it with me—I wasn’t tall enough to ride myself. I finally broke her down and we went on the ride. As soon as we got off, she stumbled into a bush and passed out. Probably from all her screaming.”
“Oh gawd,” I said. “Don’t remind me. So humiliating.”
Liam chuckled. “Funny, she didn’t even mention that ride today. I still have two tickets left, though.” He held up the remaining tickets.
“Shame. I’m sure that special brand of torture is at least four tickets,” I said, shaking my head and snapping my fingers.
“Damn shame,” Everly said. “But...” She paused dramatically. “There is a fortune teller tent. C’mon, Mace, go with me. Please...” Everly folded her hands together, giving me her best doe-eyed look, begging me to go with her.
“No way,” I said. “You know it’s all made up, Ev.”
