“You’re home late.” Felicity grins conspiratorially before eating another cracker.

“It’s not what you’re thinking,” I tell her.

“Sure…”

“Really.” I walk to where she’s finishing a puzzle on the floor. “Where are the kiddos and Dan?”

“They went to the grocery store.” She holds up the sleeve of crackers. “I’m almost out, and Dan thinks mint tea will help with the nausea.”

“It will,” I assure her. “It did with the last two.”

“That’s what Dan says, too, but I don’t remember that.”

I smile to keep myself from pointing out that she remembers very little from either of her previous pregnancies. Proof that the mind can play tricks on us.

“Did you have a nice date with Levi? One day, I want to borrow that dress. Did you bring it home?” As soon as I’d put it on, I’d sent her a picture of it.

“It’s yours, and I did have a good time. I ordered these vegetable fajitas that were unbelievable. Seriously, so good. And Levi made this dessert with peaches that had rum or something in them.” I shrug, not recalling the details of the desserts that went unfinished. “I need to ask him to make those again.”

“What were you doing this morning?”

“Making a list.”

“A list?”

I sit down and put a puzzle piece in its place. “I received a job offer from a magazine.”

Felicity sits back, her eyes rounded with questions. “What kind of a job?”

“They want me to continue doing my blog.”

She reaches forward, grasping my hand. “Brooke! That’s amazing! I told you that you were inspiring people! When would you start?”

“I don’t know. Levi was helping me construct a list of questions to ask, beginning with if I can work remote because their headquarters is in LA.”

“LA as in California?”

I nod.

“Wow.” She drops her gaze to the puzzle. “That’s a really long way away.”

“I know, which is why I’m going to ask if I can stay here.”

“Do you think they will?”

I shrug. “I don’t know, but I think it’s worth asking.”

“What if they say no?”

“Then I won’t take it. I mean, I can’t go to California. It’s like a million miles from here.”

“I don’t think it’s quite a million…”

“Don’t get practical on me now.”

Felicity laughs. “Maybe if this doesn’t work out, it could mean another opportunity. Maybe another magazine? Or a book? Or you start allowing ads or something on your blog? I mean, you’ve really loved blogging. You’ve done such an amazing job with it, and people feel a connection to you.”

“But I don’t want to tell people what to do.”

“I don’t think anyone who’s reading your blog is expecting you to tell them how to fix their lives or problems; they just need the hope you’re giving them by showing that it’s possible.”

I take a deep breath, the point null. “I don’t know, maybe.”

“I told you that blog was the start of something huge.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“No ‘maybe.’ You just need to decide what you want.”

“I just don’t want to leave. I have you and Grammy and…”

“Levi.”

I glance at my best friend, feeling guilty for including him when I’ve known her so much longer that it doesn’t feel fair to include him as a factor.

“You know, even if you moved to California, things would be okay. People do long-distance relationships all the time, and this would give me an excuse to finally see the Pacific Ocean.”

“So, now you’re trying to convince me to take the job?”

“No. No. Not at all. I just want to make sure you keep your options open and do what you want to do. Follow your heart and put yourself first for once.”

I take a deep breath, realizing my muscles have become strained again. “She’s going to be in town this Friday and asked me to meet with her.”

“Well, we’ll hear what she has to say then.”

The next few days pass in a blur. While Levi is completely calm and relaxed regarding the grand opening, I’m a mess. I know Catherine will be expecting nothing short of perfect, and though I always strive to achieve perfection, it’s even more pertinent with this event because it’s Levi.

“Stop stressing,” Levi growls, running his nose from my collarbone to my chin.

“I’m not. I’m just double-checking things.”

“You’ve already triple-checked them. You’re now stressing over them.” He picks up my binder and closes it before tossing it to the floor.

“Your grand opening is tomorrow,” I remind him.

“Yup.”

“And we’re in bed.”

“Yup.”

“We should be there. We should be making sure the flowers were delivered and be making backups in case we run out of parking or staff doesn’t show up.”

“We did. We have.”

“Levi, it’s in less than twenty-four hours.”

“Mmhmm,” he says against my skin, pulling my shirt up and pressing his lips against my ribs.

“Why aren’t you nervous?”

“Because nothing matters. We’re not going to be able to change anything now anyway, so why stress over it? I’d much rather make love to you.” His teeth capture the sensitive skin of my ear, and then his tongue follows the same path, successfully altering my thoughts as I pull back just enough to peel off my shirt.

“What are you doing?” Levi asks, rubbing his eyes as he sits up.

“You should have listened to Chelsea.”

“What?” He reaches forward, placing a palm on my back as I sit with my laptop open, going over the notes for tonight. My only true responsibility is to ensure tonight runs smoothly and is well attended, but I’ve never been good at minimizing my responsibilities even when I’m planning an event for people who don’t create flocks of butterflies in my stomach and make me forget my own name with a single touch.

“The bar has a neighborhood feel but specializes in whiskey, and you don’t even like many whiskeys.” I peer across my screen at the data that all seems to contradict itself and the many hours of research I’ve studied about running a successful bar. “My friend, Dominic, says neighborhood bars are outdated and that people don’t want a specialty drink, they want Bud Light.”

“Dominic?”

I wave a hand. “I called him a few weeks ago. He was a groom I worked with several years ago who owns a few bars in town. I called him in hopes of getting some insight.”

Levi closes my laptop and moves it to the far corner of the bed. “I’m beginning to think you have no faith in my ability to run a bar.” He buries his face in the crook of my neck, the heat of his chest pressed against my back.

I sigh. “I do. I swear. I just fear I’ve misled you. Like that bar. You should have done the glass bar. The wooden bar looks so dark in there.”

The short bristles from the shadow of his beard scratch my skin as he shakes his head. “The wooden bar is my favorite aspect.” He kisses a path to my shoulder. “People all think they love whiskey. It’s a fad that will never go out of style. Men and women alike think ordering it is sexy and are willing to pay out the nose for it even if they don’t know the difference between a rye, a scotch, and a bourbon.”

“I’m nervous,” I confess. “I’m worried I may have given you unsolicited advice about something and it will directly impact the bar.”

His fingers run over my hair. “Babe, this place will likely be my most successful location unfortunately, and I have you to thank for that.”

“Oh, stop. You didn’t really want it to fail.”

I feel his smile against my skin before he kisses me again. “A little,” he says. “I hate the idea of catering toward elitists.”

“I hate the idea of your bar going bankrupt.”

“Trust me, it won’t. In due time, you’ll see.”

I lean into his next kiss. “I need to go. Chelsea is meeting me at eight so we can finish the details.”

“I thought I fired Chelsea?”

“You’ve tried. Twice,” I remind him. “But I keep saving you from yourself.”

“Is it too late to fire her a third time so you won’t leave?”

“Yup.” I pop the last syllable and sit back, already missing the warmth of Levi’s touch.

“I’ll make you pancakes with blackberry-infused maple syrup.”

I turn around, admiring him. He’s leaning back on the small mountain of pillows that line his headboard, his chest deliciously bare. “Stop talking dirty to me,” I say.

“And a blackberry mojito.”

“You’re mean.”

He grins. “Have I convinced you to stay?”

I walk the three steps back to the edge of the bed and lean forward to kiss his full lips, which are warmer and softer from sleep. “I’ll see you at four.”

Levi growls and swipes at me, trying to grab my wrist, but I jump back, expecting it. “Or sooner if you have the burning desire to drop off coffee and doughnuts.”

“I’ll tell you what I have the burning desire for,” he calls to me as I head into the bathroom to shower.

I pile my hair on top of my head to keep it from getting wet and quickly lather up, my thoughts still on the bar. I have no doubts about Levi’s competence or knowledge, but every ounce of input I’ve given suddenly seems wrong.

My body is in autopilot mode as I get dressed and apply my makeup.

Levi’s sitting on the edge of his bed when I step out—a loose pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt reveal his plans to work out.

“You’re really going to the gym today? I don’t understand how you aren’t nervous.”

His lips slide into an uneven grin as he shrugs. “I figured since I can’t talk you into staying, I’d at least drive you.”

“That’s okay. I’ll need my car.”

“You can come get it later.”

“I might need to run an errand.”

Levi shakes his head. “There’s no convincing you, is there?”

“I’m in business mode, baby.”

“I can tell.” He stands, his T-shirt falling from where it had been bunched at his waist. Pancakes and mojitos don’t come close to competing with the sight of him, which has me reconsidering being late for the millionth time since he proposed it.

My phone dings, breaking the slew of excuses I’m considering, and I look to see Catherine calling.

“It’s your mom,” I say, clasping a hand to my forehead. Over the past couple of weeks, she’s been so busy with work and travel I’ve barely heard from her. It’s been eerie and strange, leading me to wonder if she’s upset with me or learned about my and Levi’s relationship no less than two million times.

“Tell her hi for me, will you?”

I glare at him before going out to his living room to accept the call. “Good morning.”

“How are you?” she asks. “How is everything with the grand opening? Do you need help? Should I call anyone?”

“I’m heading there now, but everything should be ready,” I assure her. Levi wanders in, his eyes bright with playfulness. I hold up a finger to him, silently warning him to stay back.

“Should I meet you there?” she asks.

“You’re welcome to stop by, but please don’t feel obligated.”

Levi snakes an arm around my waist, pulling me against him. His lips find that spot on the back of my neck near my ear, the one that is like a button for me to lose my clothes and inhibitions.

“How’s Levi? Have you spoken with him this morning?”

“Umm..” I work to wriggle free as his hand slides over my backside. “I think he’s coming by around four.”

“Do you have time to meet? I know you’ve been busy and haven’t had much time lately, but I’d like to talk to you.”

My spine stiffens. Levi reads my posture and pauses. With a hand still on my waist, he circles to the front, his brow drawn with concern.

“Would it be all right if we meet tomorrow?” My heart thrums in my neck, making me light-headed with fear and guilt.

“Yes, but let’s be sure not to postpone any further than that. I’ve been meaning to chat with you for a while.”

I swallow. “Sure.”

“I have to get some things completed for this wedding, but I’ll be by the bar this afternoon.”

“I’ll see you then.”

She hangs up without saying anything, and I lower my phone and face Levi. “She knows. She totally knows.”

He shrugs. “Good.”

“Not good. I should have told her. It would have been better to have come from me rather than her finding out.”

“Brooke, who cares?”

“I care,” I tell him. “I care about my job and your mother’s respect, whether that’s stupid or ridiculous or whatever. I care.”

Levi’s hand slips along my jaw, the heat of his touch seeping past my skin to my nerves, slowly calming me though I work to fight it. “It’s going to be fine. I promise. I’ll talk to her.”

I shake my head. “I’ll talk to her. I think she’ll be more bothered if I don’t have this conversation with her.”

“We could do it together?”

I sigh. “I’ll think about it.”

He slides his hand higher, his fingers mixing into my hair. “She thinks the world of you. She just doesn’t know how to show it. Don’t worry. And regardless of my mother’s opinion, I think the world of you. This grand opening is going to be a success, and so is the bar. I am dying for it to be over so I can hire you for another project that doesn’t exist so I can get a couple of hours on your calendar three times a week.”

“You only want to see me three days a week now?”

Levi’s fingers constrict around my waist, and he smiles. “Andrea won’t let me book more than three. I’ve tried.”

“The one time I want you to be more like your mother and use your influences…”

He chuckles, and the sound soothes the remainder of my nerves. “You’re amazing,” he says. Then his lips press against my temple, and my forehead, and my nose, and finally my mouth, breathing confidence into me.

Chelsea is at the bar when I arrive, straightening bottles of whiskey.

“Morning,” I call.

She turns, a smile on her lips. After she sent the email with price quotes to me and CC’d Levi, he’d replied, telling her it was my decision. Since that time, she’s attempted to meet with him no less than a dozen times, and he’s rejected each invitation. I know his intention wasn’t to create tension in my relationship with her, but it has. Each time he calls me or I mention his name, her eyes shoot daggers at me. Still, I’m hoping we can recover from this, but if not, it will be her decision.

My phone beeps with a message, and I glance down and see a message from Felicity.

I take a deep breath, searching for confidence once again, and begin prepping the final details of the grand opening.

Catherine arrives moments before Levi’s due, and though my doubts have diminished throughout the day, they return like a hailstorm the moment she steps inside. She stands near the entrance, her gaze drifting across the high pub tables made of marble and the wooden booths, over the stretches of dark tile and the low-light chandeliers to me. A smile slowly curves her lips, and she walks closer to me, a small gift bag in her hand.

“I can see you in this place,” she tells me.

The comment confuses me because Catherine had never been to my house to see what my style looks like, but I don’t mention this to her. “I’m a little nervous,” I admit.

She pulls her chin back. “Why?”

“I’m concerned there are too many themes. Neighborhood bar, themed bar, upscale bar…” I run a hand over my hair.

A smirk teases her lips. “You’ve done exceptionally well.”

Sweat has my palms itching as I attempt to read her mood. Is she happy? Pleased? Is this a trap?

“What is she doing here?”

I turn in the direction Catherine is glaring and see Chelsea setting out more glasses.

“She’s been instrumental,” I tell her. “Truly.”

Catherine sighs heavily, her displeasure clear. “I’m still not hiring her again.”

My phone rings, and Selena’s name appears on my screen.

“Oh no,” Catherine says, glancing at my phone and then at me. “The Gilbert wedding is tomorrow, isn’t it?”

I nod and answer.

“Brooke, I need your help. The bride has locked herself in the bathroom at the rehearsal and is totally wasted.”

I scrub a hand across my forehead. “Have you tried getting the maid of honor or the mother of the bride?”

“The maid of honor is also drunk, and the mother keeps crying. It’s a shitshow.”

I glance at Catherine and then the bar. “Okay, I’m close. I can be there in about thirty minutes.”

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I owe you. I owe you so big.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you soon.”

“What’s going on?” Catherine asks.

I suck in a deep breath. “This bride might not be worth what we’re charging her.”

“They rarely are.”

A laugh breaks through my tension. “I need to go help her. Chelsea has this handled. I should be back before guests start arriving.”

Catherine waves a hand. “Don’t worry about it. This is going to be flawless—I can tell. Take your time.”

Disappointment sits heavily in my heart as I slowly walk to my car, hoping Levi arrives in the next few moments so I can see him before I leave. Sadly, he doesn’t, and I head across town, stopping at a convenience store for water, crackers, and a tray of coffees before heading off to sober up a bride.