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He said he quickly made a drink at the realization that his little girl is actually growing up.

Grace

She might be more mature than me.

Preston

Don’t rush it.

I laugh and then keep texting.

Grace

That was “nice” of you to give him a ride.

Preston

**wink emoji** Told ya.

I click my phone off and head back to the group.

No one asks me about my fiancé again, and the night carries on the way all the girls’ nights always have: effortlessly, full of fun, and with us all going home wishing we could have more nights like this.

I’m thinking about it the entire drive to drop off Layla and head to my cabin.

But as soon as I park and see the light on, my thoughts change to the man inside.

To the man whom I’ve spoken ill of year after year but who jumped to help me solve a problem with the lodge. A man who has been nothing but kind since the day that post went live.

It’s official. I need to change my thinking.

Preston is there as soon as I walk through the door. Again. And allowing myself not to be annoyed by it is much easier than I expected. In fact, I like it more than I should.

“How are Brooke and Sadie?”

He stands from the table and helps me shrug off my coat. I’m watching his hands like a hawk, as if I think they have an alternate agenda.

I take in his gray sweatpants, which hang dangerously low on his hips, and the shirt that fits him like a glove.

Great. So, my feelings for Preston are black-and-white. I’m just going to skip the gray area where I ease into the thought of him and jump right into crushing.

No.

No.

Really, Grace?

“Good,” I manage to answer.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yep. Everything is good.”

He chuckles. “Should you have driven home?”

“Yeah, I only had one drink followed by water, probably an entire bag of tortilla chips with every dip you could think of, and a sandwich.”

I’m just fully distracted by everything that is this man in front of me right now.