Page 108 of That Rush

“I prefer discerning.”

“Of course you do.”

The warmth in his voice is a balm against the ache left by the parking lot, though it doesn’t erase the argument. I’m glad. A simple apology would be easier than learning from this.

“I need you to ask me,” I say. “Even when you think you know the answer.”

“Then I’ll keep asking.”

“And if I say no to the next thing, you don’t get to treat this yes like it expired.”

“And I’ll respect the answer.”

I look toward the abandoned book. “You should know I’m bringing something to read in case your siblings become unbearable.”

“They will become unbearable.”

“Then I appreciate your honesty.”

His low laugh moves through the phone, familiar and intimate. I miss the kiss we didn’t have, but asking him here would be another retreat, another choice made where I control every variable.

“Thank you.”

Two simple words, spoken with enough feeling to make my throat tighten.

“I’m agreeing to dinner, Aiden, not signing over the deed to my cabin.”

“I know exactly what you’re agreeing to.”

The relief in his voice tells me he understood what I needed him to hear.

And in the quiet that followed, a new thought settled, clear and simple. I chose him.

Chapter 15

Aiden

Paige is two minutes early, and I have already been waiting outside for ten.

Josie stands beside me on the front walk, hugging a library book to her chest while she watches Paige’s SUV turn into my parents’ driveway. Mom has twice called us inside. Josie refuses because she wants to greet Paige first.

I stayed, understanding the impulse.

Paige parks beside my truck and steps out wearing dark jeans, a green blouse, and the cautious expression of a woman approaching a house that may contain thirty hidden relatives.

She lifts the canvas bag on her shoulder. “One book, one bottle of wine, and a fully charged phone.”

“Planning an escape?”

“Documenting the first known small Slade dinner.”

I take the wine from her and lean down to kiss her. She fists a handful of my shirt, holding me there for a long beat, her knuckles pressing into my chest.

Josie heaves an exaggerated sigh. “You can do that after dinner.”

Paige releases me and looks at her. “I think you inherited your father’s scheduling problem.”

“Dad likes plans.”