Chapter 29 Patton
PATTON
Winnie studies the floor or her furry, winter boots.
“I’m sorry. He—”
“He fancies himself James Bond?” The way her voice gradually fades as she hugs her arms around herself makes me want simultaneously to fix her every worry and cover her in bubble wrap to shield her from the difficulties in life.
“What was I saying before—?” I ask, trying to recover the moment.
“You were about to tell me something.” Her gaze meets mine, searching.
The words stick in my throat. Telling her the truth about the stupid bet should be simple. But standing here, seeing the trust in her eyes, knowing I’m about to reveal something that might break it, chases the words away.
I’ll do it right … “Tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at six?”
“For poker night?”
“No. Before that. Just us.” I step closer, drawn to her like gravity. “I want to take you on an actual date. No emergencies. No blizzards. No mascot costumes. No interruptions. Just you and me.”
Her expression softens. “A date.”
“A real one. The kind where I pick you up at your door, your grandmother interrogates me, and I promise to have you home at a reasonable hour.”
She giggles. “Grandma Joyce will love that.”
“I’m counting on it.” I reach for her hand, threading our fingers together. “So? Will you go out with me, Parks & Rec Princess?”
“I’d love to.”
“Six o’clock.”
“Don’t be late.”
“I’m never late.”
“You were on Monday morning.”
“That was—” She stops, tilting her head. “You noticed?”
I pull her closer until there’s barely any space between us. “I notice everything about you.”
My gaze strays across her face, not sure where to land—the flush in her cheeks, her parted lips, the way her breath snags. Then our eyes tangle together and everything clicks into place.
Close contact clears the fog that’s been sitting heavy in my heart for years.
I bury one hand in her hair, the soft strands sliding through my fingers, while my other hand traces the line of her jaw.
My lips follow—brushing her neck and finding a soft spot behind her earlobe.
She shivers. I kiss the dip in her collarbone, feel her pulse racing there.
When I lift her hand to my mouth and press a kiss to the inside of her wrist, then each knuckle. A long sigh escapes her chest. She gives my shirt a gentle tug, pulling me toward her mouth, sweet yet wanting.
Our lips crash together.
This kiss isn’t soft or tentative like before. It’s raw and deep and full of everything I can’t quite say yet.
Her arms drape around my shoulders, drawing me closer. I wrap my arms around her waist like I can anchor her here, in this moment, where nothing else matters.
Not the bet, not stress, not fears.
Entranced by each other, it’s like we run as far away as possible from the real world, toward each other.
When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing hard.
I walk Winnie to her car, holding her hand the entire way. When she’s safely inside, I lean down to her window. “Text me when you’re home.”
She smiles a sparkly, starry night smile. “You’re bossy.”
“You like it.”
“Maybe.” She starts the engine. “Goodnight, Patton.”
“Goodnight, Winnie.”
I watch her taillights disappear into the night. Cheeks frozen in place, I head back inside to finish cleaning up. Austin is back, eating a Crush Cake he absolutely doesn’t deserve.
Around a mouthful, he says, “Whoa. That’s quite the smile you’re wearing. Tomorrow night should be interesting.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Poker night. After you tell Winnie about the bet—”
I grunt. “Let me deal with it.”
“Will you though?” He leans against the counter. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re digging yourself deeper into a hole.”
“It’s not a hole. It’s a plan.”
“A plan that involves kissing her senseless before confessing you started dating her because of a bet?”
I point at him. “That’s not what happened.”
“You sure about that?”
“The bet doesn’t matter anymore.”
“It will to her.” Austin’s voice loses its teasing edge. “Look, I’m happy for you. Really. But you need to tell her the whole truth before someone else does. Before she hears it at poker night and thinks—”
“No one’s saying anything at poker night.”
“They might not mean to, but it could come up. If she hears about it there, surrounded by our crew, instead of hearing it from you privately …” He trails off, letting me fill in the blanks.
He’s right.
But what if I tell her and she walks away? What if this thing between us—this real, honest thing—shatters before it even has a chance to begin?
“I’ll handle it,” I say, but it sounds hollow even to my own ears.
Austin clutches my shoulder. “I hope so, brother. Because if you lose her over this, you’ll never forgive yourself.”
It pains me to think it, but once more, I know he’s right. I wonder if the bet was just a ploy for me to admit the truth. Austin leaves, and I’m alone in the bakery with my thoughts and the ghost of Winnie’s kiss still on my lips.
My phone buzzes.
Winnie: Home safe. Thank you for tonight.
Me: Anytime. Sleep well.
Winnie: You too. See you tomorrow.
Tomorrow, when I’ll take her on a proper date, treat her the way she deserves, and then tell her the truth about the bet and how it doesn’t have anything to do with what’s developed between us.
Tomorrow, everything changes.
One way or another.