Page 87 of Shut Up and Drive

I wish he were still here so I could wrap my arms around him and tell him how grateful I am, but that will have to wait until he comes back later today. I sigh happily and tuck the rock into the pocket of my cutoffs. In the meantime, I settle into the hammock to take full advantage of the amazing setup he made for me. I open my book to find one more sticky note inside. This one makes me smile the biggest.

No book boyfriend will ever feel about you the way I do. Not even Mr. Darcy.

I giggle and clutch my book to my chest. The old Sera—who watched Thane leave without a word—weeps with joy inside me. After all these years, I am finally at peace with why he left. And better still, I have my unansweredquestions resolved. I know that it may take a while still to disassemble the walls I’ve built to protect myself, but I’m at a place where I can step back and let them fall into disarray.

My reading time is a good, solid hour and a half—which isn’t long enough when the book is good—but when the twins start to fuss on the baby monitor, I shoot Emma a text and go rescue them from their cribs.

After the women come back, I pull out the flour, sugar, eggs, and butter, and I bake Thane’s favorite cookies. The scent of cinnamon and sugar wafts through the air as I pull out the last pan of snickerdoodles, and when he walks through the door sunburned and smiling, his eyes sparkle.

“You made my favorite cookies.”

“You did a lot more than that for me. Thank you,” I reply, wiping my hands on a towel.

“You’re welcome. Did you get a good recharge?”

“I’m back to one hundred percent.” I round the counter and wrap my arms around him.

He responds by wrapping one arm around me, and with the other, he grabs a couple of warm cookies.

“I haven’t had these inyears! Thank you,” he says, giving me a squeeze before heading to the fridge for the milk. He moves to a barstool with his plunder and lays everything out on a paper towel.

“Keep spoiling me with the whole ‘charging station’ thing, and soon I’ll be baking you banana bread.”

His eyebrow quirks. “Banana bread isintimate, Fina. Are you sure you’re ready for that?” he teases.

I lean an elbow on the bar next to him and close the gap between us. My eyes rake down his face until they linger onhis lips. I kiss the cinnamon and sugar off of them slowly, then respond: “The question is, areyou?”

His focus locks on me. He chews and swallows his cookie in slow motion and stutters, “Mmm-hmmm.”

I stay too close and watch the gears in his mind fall off their rhythm and self-destruct. I flash him the flirtiest, sexiest smile I can muster, then walk away.

“I guess we’ll see, won’t we?” I say over my shoulder. “I’m going for a swim.”

He shoves the rest of one cookie into his mouth, downs the milk, and runs out after me.

“Me too!” he yells to no one and chases me to the dock.

Chapter 38

FRONT PORCH DREAM

Thane

Sera tears off her top layer of clothes as she runs, leaving a trail of shirt, shoes, and shorts from the house to the dock. I follow suit, although the only clothing I need to get rid of is a pair of flip flops. I run as fast as I can, my long legs catching up to her in just a few strides. I grin as I follow her curvy butt in a bright red swimsuit toward the water, but that’s where it all goes sideways.

She hits a slick spot on the dock and the graceful gait she had seconds before transforms to something that can only be described as a baby giraffe on ice skates. It all happens so quickly that I have no time to stop, and crash into her at full speed, taking out two deck chairs in the process. Sera and I careen off the end of the dock—arms and legs flailing everywhere.

We hit the water as one big human mass, andboth of us resurface coughing. I apologize profusely after I finish choking on lake water.

“I am so sorry, Pidge!” I sputter, pulling her toward me. “I couldn’t stop!”

I cautiously peel her plastered hair away from her face and check to make sure she’s okay. She stares at me in silence for a beat, her chest heaving. I’m not sure if she’s about to hold me under water until the bubbles stop, or if she’s hurt and about to cry.

Instead, she surprises me with her recovery and says with a chuckle, “Well, that didn’t go as planned. I wonder if the surveillance cameras caught it.”

“If they did, we need to erase it immediately.” I laugh. “There’s no way I can uphold my suave reputation with that kind of evidence circulating.”

“What ‘suave reputation’? Ninety percent of your moves have flopped hardcore since we left Long Island, Mr. Thirst Trap,” she says with a laugh.