Page 12 of You Fall First

That his laugh is so deep and rumbly, I can feel it in my chest?

That his eyes remind me of warm, melted chocolate?

That for a man who’s not a cowboy, he sure looks good in a Stetson?

I freeze for a moment, taking a long, slow breath. When a single bead of sweat trickles off my brow, I crack the window above the sink. Then I return my focus to careful chopping. I’m not about to cut off the tip of my finger just because Noah Stadler was nice to me at the farm.

The man barely gave me the time of day when we met, and I already risked enough emotional injury with Oliver. The chef. A big old rat chef.

Like Ratatouille in real life.

Across the kitchen, my mom slides four enormous halves of garlic bread into the oven, and I almost tease her for making way too much food. But I don’t need to rub salt in any wounds of her almost empty nest. Not before I tell them about my new job, and that I’m moving out the minute I get my first paycheck.

I’ve just finished tossing all the greens and veggies in a giant salad bowl when the doorbell rings. My mom’s moved next to me, whisking olive oil, balsamic, and seasoning in a smaller bowl for the dressing. “That’s probably your brother,” she says. “He and Sayla are coming to dinner. Could you let them in?”

“Since when does Dex ring the bell?”

“Your father probably locked it out of habit.” She shrugs.

Or maybe Kendal gave Dex and Landry a heads-up about the nooking this morning. I kind of hope she did. All us siblings should be wary of showing up and walking in without knocking first.

On my way to the door, I spy a bunch of fuzzy shapes through the frosted glass. Not Sayla and Dex. Instead, Kendal and Tim are on the porch with their kids. Rowan and Wally tumble inside like a couple of puppies, competing as usual over which of them can make it to the den the quickest. My parents keep a whole closet of games and a giant toy box for them, and whoever gets there first gets to pick what they play.

Rowan always wins.

“What are you guys doing here?” I ask.

Kendal smirks. “Nice to see you, too.”

Tim follows her into the foyer wearing the baby in a carrier contraption. He ducks his head in greeting, then continues in the same direction as Rowan and Wally. “I’ve got the kids,” he tells Kendal. “Take a load off, babe.”

“Thanks, babe.”

He disappears down the hall, and I toss my sister a look. “You two and your babes.”

“I’m sorry our love makes you uncomfortable,” she snarks.

The truth is, I’m jealous. But if I say that out loud, she’ll resume her campaign to get me back on Swipe Rite.

“Speaking of love.” Kendal nods to indicate the kitchen. “I hope our parental units aren’t in there currently choosing happi⁠—”

“Nope.” I wave off her comment. “We are not speaking of that ever again.”

“Fair enough,” she says.

“Mom didn’t tell me you were coming to dinner.”

“I’m not sure she knows. But I’m guessing there’s plenty of food.”

“That is an accurate assessment.” I glance toward the dining room. “I haven’t set the table yet, but if you guys are all staying, and Dex and Sayla are coming … umm … how many is that?”

“No math for me, please.” Kendal sinks onto the living room couch. “Mom brain.”

I cough out a laugh. “You can’t use being a mom as an excuse for everything forever, Ken.”

“Oh, yeah?” She blows a strand of her hair out of her face. “Watch me.”

My mother comes out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. “Kendal.” Her eyes light up. “I thought I heard your voice. Are Tim and the kids here, too?”