Page 133 of Where We Stay

“I’m never cleaning again.”

Aspen frowns at me. “But then the house will get dirty.”

The entire table erupts into laughter.

Thanks, a fucking lot, kid.

* * *

After dinner, Logan pulls me onto the back porch to discuss the ’67 Mustang we’re restoring for Dad. We’re planning to give it to him at Christmas, and with November already here, we need to get a fucking move on.

Through the windows, I watch Blair talking to Mom and Rory in the kitchen. Aspen sits on a stool between Blair’s knees while Blair absentmindedly braids her hair.

She looks completely at ease.

Like being surrounded by my family is the most natural thing in the world.

“You’re fucked,” Logan says beside me.

I tear my attention away from Blair and look at him. “Excuse me?”

“You’re falling for her.” He nods toward the kitchen.

“I’ve been seeing her for five fucking minutes.”

Logan smirks. “Doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

I look back through the window.

Blair catches me watching and smiles.

Fuck.

The asshole isn’t wrong.

I’m falling for Blair.

* * *

I pull into Blair’s driveway, trying not to show how disappointed I am that she’s sleeping at her place tonight. She has breakfast plans with G tomorrow, and apparently, Georgie has threatened to bang down her door if she sleeps through them.

I walk Blair to the porch and wait while she unlocks the front door.

“Your family is amazing,” she says, turning back to me. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“I’m glad you came.”

I brace one hand against the doorframe and rest my forehead against hers. Blair cups my face and kisses me softly.

When she pulls away, a smile lingers on her lips.

“I understand why you stayed in Hartwell,” she says.

Something tightens in my chest.

“Goodnight, Miss Morgan.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Ashford.”