“CAN I PET THE HORSE?”

Bridget, Daisy, and I are cleaning out the garden bed when a family of four with two small girls with blonde pigtails come walking up to us. Looking up from under the brim of my hat, I smile.

“Of course you can.” Dropping my trowel, I pull off my gloves and walk the girls over to where Misty is standing at the fence. I convinced Callum that we needed to open Misty’s pen, letting her come closer to the house, that guests would love to see her, and it’s been a hit. There are pictures of her with guests on our review sites already, shoving those other reviews farther down—the ones that talk about me.

“Her name is Misty,” I tell the girls as the horse comes trotting closer. I have a few treats for her in my pocket that I drop in each girl’s palms. The taller one holds her hand out fearlessly. I’d guess she’s about twelve. The younger one stands timidly behind her while the parents snap pics from across the yard.

“Will she bite me?” the girl asks in an adorable little British accent.

“Nope. Here, let me show you.” I hold out a treat for Misty which she takes gently from my hand.

“Will you help me?” the little one asks.

I smile at their parents who give their girls a little thumbs up. Standing next to the little one, I hold her hand in mine and move it closer to Misty’s mouth. She licks up the treats and the girl giggles loudly, squirming with delight.

“It’s so slobbery!”

They erupt in giggles and I quickly retrieve more food for them to feed the horse. Misty lets them pet her as I answer their questions, and I’m so distracted that I don’t even hear the van pull up.

I’m in the middle of listening to Maisy, the seven-year-old, tell me all about her pet dog, Chupa, and her pink bedroom and her best friend from school when I look up to see Callum watching from the driveway. He’s in his clerical attire with a couple of heavy boxes in his arms and that familiar smug expression that I remember from the first day I walked into this house.

After the girls take off with their parents, I walk into the house to greet him. He’s sorting the mail at the kitchen counter.

“I told you bringing Misty closer would be great for business. She’s so good with guests.”

“So are you,” he replies as he looks around cautiously before pulling me in for a quick kiss. I want to stay in his arms as he pins me against the counter with his hard body, but I pull away before any one of our guests can walk past. The house has been full for weeks, and it’s been working us all to the bone.

“This came for you,” he says before handing me a bubble package with Sunny’s handwriting on it. I go silent as it registers what my sister has sent me.

I snatch it out of his hands and feel the thick envelope, knowing exactly what’s inside.

Callum watches me curiously like he’s waiting for me to fill him in. I swallow and look away instead.

“Are you going to tell me what it is?”

I can feel the refill packs between the bubbles of the padded envelope. Of course, Sunny came through. Even when she knew I could make the appointment myself, she knew that I wouldn’t. She came through because she wants me to be safe. She doesn’t want what happened to me before to happen again.

What she doesn’t know is that it wouldn’t. I won’t let it.

As I look up at Callum, the heaviness of our last conversation between us, I try to force a smile. This is good news. We’re in the clear, and we don’t need to buy condoms or keep our distance.

Clearing my throat, I rip open the package. I want him to know what it is. As I pull the round, silver refill packs out of the package, I hold them up.

“Hallelujah.”

Callum doesn’t smile. In fact, he looks contemplative as he takes it from my hand. For a moment, he considers them, and then his eyes meet mine. As he presses my body against the counter, he reaches around me to drop the package in the trash on the other side.

“What are you doing?” I jump to grab it but he twists me back so I’m facing him. His lips find mine and he kisses me fervently, his tongue invading my mouth and making me want to strip off my clothes right here.

What is happening? my mind screams.

“You really want to fish those out?” he whispers against my lips. My mouth hangs open as I stare at him. What the fuck is he saying? I’m trying to piece together everything I’m hearing, afraid that I’ll jump to the wrong conclusion.

“Do you want me to?” I ask.

“No, I don’t.”

The air leaves my lungs, and I grip his shirt between my fists. I’ve forgotten about being secretive, other guests, Bridget, anyone else, and I pull him closer.

“Callum,” I gasp. Inside my chest, my heart has started to hammer away, filling my body with heat. This is one of those big moments, a turning point. But why would he do this? What is he saying? Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ Findɴovel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

For a moment, I dare to hope this is the moment he’s about to tell me I’m his and he’s mine, and a flutter of anxiety to my stomach suddenly makes me question how I feel about that. About all of this.

His hands reach up to hold my face as he kisses me again. “You didn’t answer my question, Cadence. Do you want to fish them out?”

I can hardly breathe let alone answer. What Callum is asking me isn’t something I can answer lightly. Do I want to take that risk? End up pregnant, with his child, his baby. Even if we can never be public. Is that what I want?

My heart nearly explodes at the thought. Yes. Emphatically, yes. When he threw that package away, he wasn’t taking my choice. He was answering the question I was too afraid to ask.

What if?

What if we could have everything we wanted?

I don’t even care enough to understand what this all means about him and us and the future. What he’s offering has me too excited to give a damn.

“No,” I whisper. “No, I don’t want them.” My voice cracks on the words, and he kisses me again, but this time I kiss him back hungrily.

The front door opens and we break apart in a rush. He returns to sorting out the boxes he brought in, and I grab the junk mail from its pile and shove it into the trash, pushing Sunny’s package far enough down that it won’t be retrievable. Then I look at him with a smile.

He touches my chin before Bridget can turn back around.

Whatever the future holds I don’t know. And people might think this is crazy, considering a child with a priest who can never marry me, never be truly ours, but Callum knows what he’s giving me, that he’s feeding a part of my soul in ways he doesn’t even know.

Still, that nagging sense of doubt refuses to go away. This time, my life isn’t the only one I’d be ruining. Am I making yet another mistake?

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