Chapter 46
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
WILLA
Willa:
You find him? Is he okay?
Never mind. Don’t answer that.
I’m not asking about him.
I need to talk to YOU.
We’re not done. Text me back. Unless you’re too scared.
Beau:
Jesus, Willa. You always did punch first and ask questions later.
I’m around. Just say when.
The silo creaked softly in the breeze, like it was breathing with me. Or for me. Because god knew I was having a hard enough time doing that on my own.
The only light came from the pendant above the island, casting a warm, golden circle over the mess I’d made. Ink-smeared paper, thanks to my tears that kept falling. An empty wine bottle. My name in shaky handwriting. A pen I kept gripping like it might save me.
And one blank line that mocked me.
All I had to do was fill in Lincoln’s name. And then I could file this paperwork and be done with it. But here I sat, slumped on the stool, eyes rimmed red, wineglass in one hand, pen in the other, half laughing, half sobbing like the world’s most unhinged maniac.
The only good part of my being left alone was that at least no one could see me like this. Battered. Broken.
Devastated.
“You purposely didn’t think about this for weeks, and now it’s a priority?” I muttered to myself, swiping the back of my hand under my nose. “Real subtle. A+ emotional avoidance.”
The words I’d written on the paper blurred thanks to my tears.
Steele & Bramble
It was supposed to be Stone & Bramble. That was the plan. That had always been the plan. It was something solid. Strong.
Singular.
But now? Now, it wasn’t singular, and it hadn’t been in a while. This place wasn’t just mine anymore.
Or at least, I didn’t want it to be.
But if I filled out both lines and Lincoln didn’t come back…
I swallowed down the lump in my throat and blinked back the tears that refused to quit. It was just a business name. Just paperwork.
So why did it feel like writing his name would crack me wide open? That finalizing a partnership would break me?
The door opened suddenly, a breeze floating in along with it, and I jolted, my wine sloshing dangerously close to the edge. I darted my wide-eyed gaze behind me, heart in my throat at what I’d find—
My breath caught.
Lincoln stood in the doorway, haloed in the porch light, his eyes landing on me like I was both the storm and the safe harbor.
“Jesus,” I breathed, heart stuttering in my chest as I wiped a hasty hand under my eyes. Definitely not sobbing into a wineglass over here. “You scared me.”
“Didn’t mean to.” He stepped inside like he belonged here—like he’d never left—and dropped something on the table next to the armchair. “I live here too, remember?”
Though I tried to hold it in with everything I had, I couldn’t stop my chin from wobbling, his words undoing me more than I wanted them to.
“You came back,” I whispered.
“’Course I did.” His voice was soft. Steady. “I’ll always come back, wife.”
Tears blurred my vision again before I could blink them away, and I swallowed back the sob that was threatening to break free. This was ridiculous. I was being ridiculous.
He crossed the room slowly, like I was a skittish animal, and if he moved too fast, I might bolt. He darted his gaze over the mess I’d made on the island before meeting my eyes again. “What’s all this?”
I opened my mouth. Closed it. Waved a hand through the air like this wasn’t a big deal. Like I hadn’t had an emotional breakdown because of it. “Joint LLC paperwork. For the farm. I’ve been, um… I’ve been meaning to do it for a while.”
He scanned the paper, his gaze snagging on my name and the blank line below it for the joint owner.
“But I just…” I swallowed, unable to finish the sentence, emotion clogging my throat.
“You just couldn’t yet,” he finished for me.
I lifted a single shoulder in a shrug, my eyes filling again, all my worries and fears flooding back.
“You were scared to go all in.” Cupping my face, he swiped his thumbs across my cheeks, catching my falling tears. “Because if you did, and I didn’t stick around…it would’ve confirmed everything you’re scared of.”
I snapped my gaze to his, my breath caught in my throat, hope and panic both flooding my chest. “How did you—”
“Because I know you, hellcat,” he murmured. “Much as you hate that sometimes. And I’ve been there.”
I blinked as realization hit, my tears falling for an entirely new reason—one filled with guilt and shame and empathy.
Because yeah. He had been there. When his dad left without a word.
When he’d abandoned Lincoln and his brothers and their mom.
Left for a reunion tour with his band and just never came back.
Lincoln knew this fear. Knew it intimately. And still, he’d been all in. And I’d been the one toying with his heart.
“God, I’m sorry,” I choked out. “I’m a mess. But this fear is buried so fucking deep, Linc.”
“I know it is, baby.”
“Everything I’ve ever tried to make mine leaves.
” My voice broke, but I kept going, knowing Lincoln deserved this pure, honest, cracked-open version of myself.
“My dad died and my mom left and Beau took off, and it took us ignoring his calls after a secret marriage to get him to come home. Everyone I let in finds a way out. And the stupidest part is that my hesitation with filling that out wasn’t even about the business anymore.
It was about you. Because I fell for you.
And I knew—I knew—if I made this permanent and you left too, I’d—”
I broke off on a sob, no longer able to maintain even a semblance of composure.
“Hellcat…” He wrapped his arms around me and squeezed me tight to his chest. “This is what I’ve spent every damn day trying to show you. I’m not gonna leave. I’m not going anywhere.”
“But you did,” I whispered, my throat tight with these never-ending tears. “You left.”
“No, baby.” He pulled back and cupped my face, his thumbs swiping away the tears that continued to fall. “I left the room. I left the fight. I didn’t leave you.”
He grabbed my left hand and brought it to his mouth, brushing his lips over the simple black band on my finger. “This—us? It’s already permanent, hellcat. Paperwork doesn’t change that. I’m your husband. You’re my wife. You and I are a we. And that’s exactly what I want.”
“But it was never supposed to be forever.”
He huffed out a humorless laugh and shook his head. “I’ve been your husband since day one, wife. It was always supposed to be forever.”
My heart squeezed so tight, stealing my breath, that I almost missed the ache in his voice. Almost, but didn’t. His words weren’t just a promise. They were a vow he’d already been keeping.
He stepped back and reached for the thing he’d dropped on the side table when he’d come in. Then he placed it on the island in front of me and tapped a finger on it. “Open it.”
With shaky hands, I did what he’d instructed, and my breath caught as soon as I registered what was inside.
My original sketch, the paper crumpled, the design scratched out. And another crisp sheet with my logo—the same winding vines I’d imagined, the initials interlocked like I’d doodled so long ago. Back when this dream still felt so far away. Except now, the design was refined. Polished. Perfect.
Well, almost.
“You—” My voice cracked. My fingers trembled as I traced the edges. “You did this?”
“Well, Declan did.” He cleared his throat. “I found the original in the office. Asked Dec to work his magic.”
I brushed my fingers over the design, a realization settling deep in my bones the longer I stared at it.
“You’ve always believed in this,” I whispered, barely able to get the words out.
“I’ve always believed in you, Willa.”
Even when I hadn’t. Because dreaming meant admitting I wanted something. And wanting something only to fail was too harsh of a reality to face. Again.
But what I wanted now was so much more than ever before. My dream had expanded and grown into something bigger than I’d ever allowed myself to hope for.
Not just the farm or artisanal jams or a stand at the market.
But him. And us. Something we built together.
Something that lasted.
“I love it.” I held it to my chest before setting it down. Then I pulled out the LLC paperwork from beneath the folder and handed it to him. “There’s just one problem…”
He glanced at me before dropping his gaze to scan the page. And I knew the second he’d landed on it when his brows flew up.
“Steele and Bramble?” he asked, his voice gruff.
“It’s not just my dream anymore,” I said. “It’s ours.”
Emotion flickered across his face—raw and quiet but so powerful, I had no idea how I’d missed it all this time. Without another word, he reached for the pen and scribbled his name on the line below mine before signing the bottom. A messy, inky declaration that stole the air from my lungs.
And then he tugged me off the stool, cupped my face, and kissed me. His lips tender but insistent against mine—like it was the first time and the last time and every other time we’d wanted to but didn’t.
When we finally broke apart, he rested his forehead against mine and breathed in deeply. “You sure about this?”
I laughed, watery and wrecked, my chest finally stitching itself back together. “I signed the paperwork, didn’t I?”
He grinned. “Guess that makes it official.”
“Guess it does.”
He kissed me again, like he couldn’t get enough. And truthfully, I couldn’t either. I wasn’t sure I ever would.
Thankfully, I never had to try.