Page 130 of This Beautiful Lie
Dean was already halfway around the hood before I’d even unbuckled my seatbelt. “Yes, ma’am,” he said with a grin, offering both hands like I were made of glass.
“I’m pregnant, not breakable,” I teased, though I didn’t stop him.
Dean’s smile softened as he helped me down, his hand lingering protectively at my waist. “Maybe,” he said quietly,“but you’re carrying my whole world in there. So, you’ll have to forgive me if I can’t help myself.”
I let out a small laugh, though it caught halfway in my throat. “You realize you’re setting the bar unreasonably high for husbands, right?”
Dean’s grin curved—slow, knowing, wicked in a way that made my knees soften.
“Good,” he murmured, leaning in until his breath grazed the shell of my ear. “Means no one else will ever measure up.”
A shiver rolled down my spine.
He pressed a kiss just below my jaw—soft, lingering, threaded with a promise I felt all the way to my toes—before he finally stepped back. He rounded the Jeep, popped the back hatch, and George practically launched himself out.
His giant body skidded across the gravel, shook once, then trotted straight to me with his tail thumping. He nudged my hand once—demanding affection while shooting Dean a look of jealousy.
Dean chuckled as he slammed the back closed. “Oh, give me a break,” he said, voice warm with something that loosened my chest. “Like you weren’t resting your head on her shoulder the entire ride up here.”
George huffed in pure canine indignation, and I smiled, scratching behind his ears. “Leave my Georgie boy alone.”
When I looked up, Dean was watching me—soft-eyed, almost undone in a way that made my breath catch. Like he still couldn’t quite believe this was his life… thatwewere his.
He winked, then nodded toward the lodge. “Stay put. I’ll grab our keys.”
I opened my mouth to agree, but George cut me off with a deep woof and barreled after Dean, bounding up the steps as though he were racing to the front door.
Dean glanced back at me with a grin that hit me square in the ribs.
I stayed where I was, leaning against the Jeep, letting the quiet settle around me as they disappeared into the lodge together.
The air smelled like pine and sunlight. Golden rays filtered through the branches, dappling the trail off in the distance. And somewhere across the property, laughter drifted through the trees—the familiar sound of our family arriving for the annual retreat.
It should’ve felt ordinary by now.
But it didn’t.
Every time I came back here, something in me stilled. Settled. Like the earth itself remembered me—held a place for me—long before I ever believed I had one.
I let my gaze drift over the familiar landscape—the cabins tucked between towering pines, the lake glinting through the branches, sunlight dancing across its surface—and a quiet warmth unfurled in my chest. John and Tuesday would be here later. Jake and Katie, too. Somewhere in the last twelve months, our lives had woven together, tangled and messy and unexpectedly perfect.
I was still absorbing that comfort—that sense of belonging—when a familiar voice cut through the quiet behind me.
“There she is, the woman my cousin can never stop talking about.”
I turned at the sound of Mason’s voice. He was climbing the hill toward me in the distance, overalls dusty like he’d just finished chopping firewood, his grin as wild and boyish as ever.
“Mason,” I said warmly. “I see mountain life is treating you well.”
“You know it.” He brushed sawdust from his shoulder before winking at me. “Turns out, early mornings and pine trees aregood for the soul. Who knew I was one nature hike away from my best self?”
I laughed under my breath. “Honestly? I’m proud of you. You look happy.”
“I am.” His gaze softened, then flicked—briefly, intentionally—toward the doors where Dean had disappeared. “Seems like I’m not the only one.”
My heart stuttered. There was a beat of silence, warm and easy, before curiosity tugged the words out of me.
“So, he talks about me, huh?” I was trying for nonchalant—and failing miserably. “What exactly has he been saying?”
