“You sure as hell did!” He wrapped his arms around me, lifting me off the ground, not even caring how sweaty I was. Of course, he was sweaty too, so it didn’t matter. Our sweat mingled a lot lately.
“You did it!” Emily’s squeal came from behind me and I turned to greet her. Simon was beside her, a smile on his face and a bottle of water and a banana in his hands. He passed them both to me.
“Good run, April,” he said.
I snorted. “I don’t want to hear it. You had time to go home and shower while you were waiting for me, right?”
He laughed, which for Simon was an enthusiastic exhale, but it still warmed me to see it. “Not quite. And you should absolutely be proud. How’d you do?” He addressed the question to Mitch, knowing he was the one with the stopwatch.
Mitch looked down at his wrist, a grin blooming across his face. “Thirty-four minutes, forty-seven seconds. Not bad!” He held up a hand and we high-fived. Yes, we were that kind of couple. No, I didn’t care.
I turned to Emily. “How about you?” She and the puppy had done the one-mile dog jog, something that I had almost ditched my own race to see. Because dogs. Mine was safely at home asleep on the couch. Murray was the smartest of us all.
Emily laughed and shook her head. “Lord Byron here was much more interested in sniffing and peeing on things. I don’t think our time was all that impressive.”
While we all walked toward the parking lot, I called Caitlin. “Turkey in the oven?”
“Yep! Everything’s set, Mom.”
“Great. Thanks, hon.” I clicked my phone off while Mitch dug his keys out of his pocket. “See y’all in a little bit?”
Emily nodded as she loaded the all-legs puppy in the back of her Jeep. “We’ll be there about two. You sure you don’t want me to bring anything?”
I shook my head. “It’s all made. Just bring yourselves and the dog. Maybe some wine.” Mitch’s grandmother had emailed me her macaroni and cheese recipe, and I couldn’t wait for everyone to try it.
Speaking of which . . . I turned to Mitch after settling myself in the passenger seat of his truck. “You sure it’s okay we didn’t do Thanksgiving with your family? I know you love your grandparents.”
“I do.” He nodded as he started up his truck.
“And your cousin Lulu is great. I wouldn’t mind seeing her again.”
“That’s good. I think you’ll have a hard time getting rid of her.” He cracked a smile as we got on the road. “But no. Today’s great. A Willow Creek family Thanksgiving. We can save the real chaos for Christmas.”
“Can’t wait,” I said dryly. But what he didn’t know was that I was already thinking ahead to Christmas. His present was already wrapped and in my sock drawer in a little white box: a tiny silver house on a key ring, with a copy of my house key. I was going to ask him to move in. He’d helped make my house even more of a home, so it was only right that he share it with me, and stop renewing his lease every February.
I sighed and took a bite of banana. “This was fun.”
“Good. We’ll make it a tradition.”
“Except . . .” I plucked my shirt away from my body with a grimace. “I’m disgusting. And I’m pretty sure I stink.”
“We’ll take a shower when we get home.” His grin turned wicked as he glanced over at me. “That can be a tradition too.”
I raised my eyebrows. “A lot of your traditions seem to involve showers.”
“Are you complaining, Cupcake?”
My new nickname. Now it was time for my grin to be wicked. “I am not.”
Sure, there was a glimmer of Old April deep down inside, who thought, Oh shit, Caitlin is home, abort sexy shower! But when Mitch took my hand and drove me home, it was easy to extinguish that glimmer. She was eighteen. She could handle it.
Besides, everything I wanted, needed, and loved was either in this truck with me or waiting for me at home. And New April had no problem letting the world know it.
Acknowledgments
The majority of this book was written in the year 2020, which was unprecedented for so many reasons. It was a challenge to write a rom-com—especially a rom-com that had so! many! public gatherings!—in the middle of a pandemic. But in a lot of ways it was an escape. Spending time in Willow Creek with my characters was comforting at a time when I couldn’t hang out with anyone else.
With every book, I realize anew how lucky I am to have a great group of people at my back: my agent, Taylor Haggerty, and my critique partners, Gwynne Jackson and Vivien Jackson, are basically my foundation. I would be flailing out here without you. I had a wonderful group of alpha readers who were basically the OG Mitch fan club: Annette Christie, Jenny Howe, Cass Scotka, Courtney Kaericher, and Lindsay Landgraf Hess. There is room enough in his heart for you all!
Jenny Howe, thanks for letting me borrow Murray. It helps my heart to know that he and Gambit are together in this book forever, and I hope it helps yours too.
ReLynn Vaughn, thank you for the inspo spam as always!
I cannot overstate how much fun I have working on these books with Kerry Donovan as my editor. It’s a genuine pleasure to have someone love and understand my characters as much as I do! Massive thanks as usual to the rest of the Berkley team: Jessica Mangicaro, Jessica Brock, Mary Geren, Mary Baker, and Angelina Krahn. Special thanks to Colleen Reinhart for yet another adorable cover!
Additional thanks this go-round to Lyssa Kay Adams and the participants of the 30-Day Draft project, which helped me get a good portion of this book written. Thanks for all the Zoom sprints and chats! And thanks as usual to my Bs—Brighton, Ellis, Esher, Ann, Melly, Helen, Laura, Elizabeth, and Suzanne—for the morning coffee Zooms, the evening boozy Zooms, and the occasional writing Zooms. So many Zooms.
Morgan, you deserve all the beer in the fridge. There’s no one I’d rather drive across the country with in a rented SUV containing three annoyed cats. I love you.
My heart goes out—and continues to go out—to the Renaissance Faires across the country that were forced to shut down during 2020 and much of 2021. Many performers and artisans lost their livelihoods and have been trying to keep it going online as much as possible. Check out digitalrenfaire.com for virtual performances and the Facebook group Faire Relief 2020 for vendors selling their crafts online. Hopefully by the time this book is published we’ll be meeting up in person again. I look forward to raising a tankard with you all someday at pub sing. Huzzah!
One last fervent THANK YOU to the readers out there. So many of you have reached out to me during this crazy time and told me how these books have been an escape, a chance to attend a fictional Renaissance Faire when the real ones were closed down. I’m so touched and grateful for the chance to distract and entertain. Thank you as well to the bookstagrammers and bloggers, the bookstores and librarians who have featured my books on their platforms. These times have been so challenging, and I appreciate every single one of you. Thank you.
Keep reading for a special preview of the next novel by Jen DeLuca
Well Traveled
Coming in Fall 2022!
I quit my job,” I said to my third glass of cider that morning. It didn’t respond.