I expect Wyatt to pull into my driveway, but he passes my house and pulls into his parents' driveway instead. I'm crawling out of the passenger side door when a light comes on, illuminating the front yard with a soft, yellow glow. I look up to see Jodi Montgomery on the front porch.

"Wyatt Jefferson Montgomery!" I exclaim with a stupid smile, smacking him lightly on the chest. He laughs, his smile so big the corners of his eyes crinkle.

"Emily Evans, you are a sight for sore eyes, dear!" I run toward her, and she catches me in a big hug. Wyatt chuckles behind me.

"She prefers Blaise, now, ma."

"Of course," she says, chastising herself. "Come on in, Brent is in the garage piddlin', but I have some fresh peach cobbler for you, right out of the oven." I'm relieved to hear Brent won't be joining us. It's not that I dislike him, per se, we've just never been particularly close. He's always been a hard, intimidating man. Jodi, on the other hand, is the exact opposite, all warm smiles and big hugs.

We walk into the kitchen and Wyatt pulls a stool out for me in front of a familiar, laminate breakfast bar as Mrs. Montgomery pulls the cobbler from the oven.

"I'm gonna go grab some ice cream from the deep freeze in the garage and check in on your daddy. I'll be right back," she practically sings to Wyatt as she skips out of the room. I look over to Wyatt, my eyes shining with tears again.

"I know it's probably against the first date rules to invite the parents along, but I know you miss mama. And her cobbler." He sits on a stool next to me, grabs a fork and helps himself directly from the dish. "Did I make you happy?" His eyes are hopeful and vulnerable. I cannot believe the amount of effort he put into making me happy tonight. This man loves me. He has always loved me, and I'm stupid for not having acted on it sooner. I've been so worried about messing things up and losing my best friend that I've been careless and selfish with his feelings. It's not fair to him. 

"Very. This is the sweetest thing any boyfriend has ever done for me."

"Boyfriend?"

When I nod, he grins before reaching out and grabbing the side of my neck, bringing my mouth to his. He kisses me softly at first, then brings his other hand to my face and deepens the kiss. His mouth is warm and wet and tastes like peach cobbler. He's delicious.

We break apart at the sound of Wyatt's mom entering the room, lightly padding on her bare feet and whistling to herself.

"Don't mind me," she says with a slight laugh. My face feels like it's on fire and I know I must be blushing furiously. I look over at Wyatt and he's just grinning without a trace of shame or embarrassment on his elated face. It feels good to make him happy.

Jodi chats with me about retirement and her time in Florida as she scoops vanilla ice cream and cobbler into yellow ceramic bowls. Brent even passes through and grumbles a half-hearted welcome as he grabs a bowl for himself and heads to the den.

"Well, I really want to catch up with you, sweetheart. I need to hear all about your scholarship and college plans, but it's gettin' late and I better scoot to bed. Y'all have a good night." She walks around the bar, hugs Wyatt, and places a kiss to his temple that makes him roll his eyes.

"Love you. Rinse those dishes and leave them in the sink. I'll take care of them in the morning. Lock up when you leave," she instructs Wyatt. Then she turns to me.

"Blaise, dear, don't be a stranger. Brent and I just got back to town last night and I'm sure you're busy with the move, but why don't we grab lunch or coffee next week and catch up?"

"I'd like that," I say as she gives me another big hug.

"We've all missed you around here. Welcome home."

I listen to her soft footsteps until they fade down the hall. I turn to my bowl and take another bite, practically moaning into my spoon. Wyatt looks at me out of the corner of his eye with a crooked smile.

"So," Wyatt says, turning toward me and slowly moving his thumb back and forth across my thigh. "Any big plans tomorrow?"

"Um, yeah, actually. I'm meeting a handyman to take a look at the house."

"Who is it? Is he bonded and insured? Have you run a background check? Do you want me to be there with you?"

His protectiveness is sweet, but I am certain the last place I want to be is in the same room with Wyatt and James. 

"Don't you have to work?"

"Reschedule."

I laugh. He's absurd. "That's not necessary. And she and Eliza will be home, too." 

He shakes his head. "I don't like it. You being there with a stranger."

He's not a stranger, but I have a feeling Wyatt would like that even less. "Martha knows him. She recommended him to Brenda."

"Ugh, the nosy old lady across the street?" he asks, his nose wrinkling up in disgust.

"She's precious! What in the world do you have against her?"

"She's just always watching out her curtains and meddling." He leans in and bops my nose with his index finger, "Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about, you'll be moving on campus next week anyway. So what time are you meeting him?"

"Three." 

"Perfect, I have to be at work at one, but that means we both have the whole morning free," he says, and I'm still looking down at my cobbler, trying to pull myself together.

"Blaise?" he asks, and I finally look up at him. He is staring at me with an intensity I barely recognize. "We have two options. Totally up to you." He studies my face before slowly and deliberately raking his eyes from my hair to my tall, black stilettos. The corner of his mouth quirks up and his eyes return to mine.

"Option one, I can walk you next door and kiss you goodnight," he says, staring at my mouth. I remember the kiss that was cut short by his mom less than an hour ago. I want more of that.

"Yes, please," I whisper, and he laughs.

"You haven't heard option two," he chides playfully. The corners of his lips drop and his soft hazel eyes darken. "Option two is you come back to my place. With me. For the night."

Wyatt stands and takes a step toward me. I sit on the edge of the stool and widen my legs to give him space to step closer. He does, and I can feel the hem of my dress riding up the sides of my legs. He bends down, places his hands on my bare thighs and kisses me again, harder and more aggressive this time. I part my lips just slightly, and he eagerly invades my mouth, squeezing my legs and pulling me to the edge of the stool, closer toward him.

His tongue meets mine and I revel in his sweet taste, his mouth both hot from the cobbler and cold from the ice cream. He pulls back, only slightly, and places a small kiss on the corner of my lips, then up my jaw and the side of my neck. He skims his teeth across my earlobe, causing a chill to run up my spine. My entire body is buzzing when he whispers in my ear.

"What'll it be, Blaise? Your place or mine?" He straightens and looks down at me. The look in his eyes is equal parts vulnerable school boy and hungry predator.

"Yours," I whisper. His face breaks out into a wide, triumphant grin as he grabs my hand and hauls me off the stool.

"Now," he says as he pulls me across the kitchen and into the living room by my hand.

"But Wyatt, the dishes..." I plant my feet and turn my head toward the sink.

"Leave them," he says, pulling my hand.

"But your mama said..."

"I said leave them." When I hesitate, he scoops down and throws me over his shoulder, striding toward the door.

"Wyatt Jefferson!" I half-whisper, half-screech, upside down, trying not to laugh and mindful not to disturb his parents a few feet down the hall. "Let. Me. Go."

"Never."