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I slip out early in the morning, leaving Blair wrapped up in a fluffy blanket to nurse her hellish hangover. The poor girl puked her guts out last night before finally falling asleep. Blair is never quite this unhinged, so there must be something going on with her and Justin, but she quickly changes the subject every time I ask about him—when she’s ready to talk about it, she will.

Shrugging on a sweater and black leggings, I grab my coat and quietly exit the guest cabin. I make my way across the sprawling driveway toward the main cabin and let myself inside. The scent of coffee and pancakes greets me like a warm hug, sending yet another pang of sadness through me at the thought of leaving tomorrow evening.

Sure, I can come visit…but it won’t be the same. I won’t be in on the day-to-day happenings, privy to every detail of Hank and Otto’s days—and Lincoln’s.

I step out of my boots and pad into the kitchen where Hank and Otto are seated. They’re both already eating and look up in surprise when I walk into the room.

“Well, good morning,” Hank greets me. “We weren’t sure you’d be up early, thought you might have had a late night.”

“Ahhh, to be young again,” Otto muses. “Grab some food. There’s plenty. Coffee, too.”

I relax, smiling at the two men who’ve welcomed me into their home, their life. In a strange way, I feel like I’ve known them forever…and in another; it feels like I hardly know them at all.

“Thanks,” I say, making my way toward the coffeepot. I grab a mug and fill it to the brim, so desperate for some caffeine I don’t even bother with creamer today.

Taking a sip, I savor the piping hot bitter taste, resting my back against the counter. “I only had one drink, but Blair is in rough shape this morning, I’m afraid.”

Hank huffs a laugh, and Otto grimaces.

“We’ll save her some food and coffee,” Otto offers.

I nod my thanks, resting my coffee on the island and filling a plate with pancakes before planting my tired body on a barstool to dig in.

“So,” Hank says, clearing his throat. “Was it just you girls last night?”

Otto shoots him a look that I can’t decipher.

“Yeah.” I smile. “Well, at first. But then Lincoln and his friends showed up.”

“Good. Lincoln should get out more.” Hank glances down at his empty coffee mug. “That makes sense why his truck was here late. He gave you girls a ride home?”

“Fuck’s sake, Hank,” Otto grumbles under his breath. “Leave them alone.”

I laugh, trying to ignore the blush creeping onto my face. “Yeah, he did. None of us were fit to drive.”

“Lincoln’s a good man,” Hank muses, still pretending his coffee is the most interesting thing in the world.

I don’t respond, because this feels like a lose-lose situation. I can argue he’s not that great and look like an asshole…or I can agree he’s a good man and confirm what Hank is already piecing together.

What I can’t decide, though, is whether he approves of me and Lincoln. Or if his line of questioning is a warning disguised as mere curiosity.

“You looking forward to Honey Badger Hoedown tonight? The festivities start around five,” Otto says, thankfully changing the subject.

“I am,” I reply, genuinely excited to experience the event the whole town has been buzzing about. But I deflate quickly when I remember I need to talk to them about my plans. “Actually, speaking of this weekend…I wanted to let you both know I’m flying back to California with Blair tomorrow evening.”

Otto and Hank’s matching sad puppy-dog eyes shatter the crack in my heart even further.

“I need to take care of things back home,” I explain, the word home not ringing quite true anymore. “I’ve already taken more time off my training that I should have. But I hope it’s okay if I visit often…” I trail off, not sure what to say.

Hank leans forward; his green eyes trained on mine. “Hattie, we’ve loved having you here. I’ve loved having you here. I know you have a family in California that you love, but please know you’re always welcome here.” He huffs a humorless laugh. “Hell, the guest cabin is all yours if you want it. Or I’ll give you a plot of land and build you a better house, and you can spend as much time here as you’d like.”

Otto pats his shoulder. “Okay, son. You’re going to creep her out.”

I laugh, tears springing to my eyes. “I’m not creeped out. I’m relieved to hear you say that,” I admit. “Part of me doesn’t want to leave at all, but I need time to consider what I want to do, where I want to be.”

Hank smiles. “I understand. Just know you’re always welcome here.”

“We’ll miss you, kiddo,” Otto adds, his eyes twinkling with emotion.