a forever home with someone else. It’s the way things have to be, so I push back my sadness. “When shall I come get him?”
“Hang on.” Her voice goes muffled, and I recognize the male voice in the background. My heart speeds up as Bradley comes on the line.
“Hey, Izzy,” he says. “Congratulations. Want me to bring Kevin over tonight?”
I should say no. I should keep a careful space between us and insist one of my brothers will bring me out later with a pickup truck suitable for transporting swine.
But my heart gives my voice box a different message than my brain would. “I’d love that,” I hear myself saying. “I can make dinner.”
“For me or for Kevin?”
“For both of you, of course. It’s the least I can do.”
“Don’t sweat it, Iz. I know you’ve got your hands full this week with wedding stuff. Isn’t tonight some kind of rehearsal thing?”
“Only for the children and parents.” I survey the hallway, trying to recall the state of my cabin. I’ll need to tidy before they arrive. “Mark and Bree need a little extra time with Libby and Brian to practice having the flower girl tow the ring bearer down the aisle without tipping the wagon.”
“Smart. Well, still, let me cover dinner. How about I pick up takeout from that vegan place you like?”
I love that he remembers the restaurants I favor, even if we’ve never been there together. There’s also no need to remind him about my dietary precautions. “That sounds lovely,” I tell him. “Thank you, Bradley.”
“Thank you.” The smile in his voice is even brighter than his mother’s. “I’ve been putting in crazy hours at the clinic this week, so I’m glad to finally get to see you.”
“Same. I can’t wait to see you.” It’s true, and I hate that it’s true, and I close my eyes as guilt curdles my gut. “I’m looking forward to it.”
He has no idea how much. I need to keep it that way, keep us both on the same page about this being a temporary thing. If he knew how much I want to be with him, want to spend every waking moment—
“Stop it.”
“Okay,” Bradley says, and I realize I’ve spoken aloud. “What am I stopping?”
I laugh because it’s such a Bradley thing to say. “Nothing. I’m sorry, just thinking out loud.”
“About needing to stop something?” He laughs. “Is this the opposite of positive thinking?”
“Yes, I’m all about the negative,” I reply primly. “A reminder to stop wishing I could have corndogs and cotton candy for every meal and be grateful for what I can have.”
Bradley’s quiet for a moment, and I pray I haven’t revealed too much with my poor—and mostly accidental—metaphor. “Whatever works,” he says at last. “So I’ll be there at six?”
“Can’t wait.” There’s a burst of muffled laughter behind me, and I glance down, remembering I’m still wearing my wedding attire. “I should go,” I tell him. “I need to take my dress off.”
He gives a low groan. “Thanks for that mental picture. Maybe we should meet now?”
I laugh and do my best not to imagine him dragging the zipper down, planting a soft trail of kisses along my spine as he cups my—
“Six will be fine,” I tell him. “I’m sure I can come up with some other items of clothing for you to remove.”
“I’m counting on it,” he says. “See you in a few hours, Iz.”
“See you.”
I hang up with guilt and excitement bubbling together in a toxic brew in my belly. Apparently, it’s done me little good avoiding Bradley these past few days. A poor choice, perhaps. Maybe I should have focused on spending as much time as possible with him before I have to go.
I glance behind me at the door to the dressing suite we’ve commandeered for our final fitting. It was Bree’s idea building this space, part of the luxury package she envisioned for the high-end weddings we host here. What would it be like to be part of that? Not just the team of siblings running the place, but the vision for Ponderosa Luxury Ranch Resort. Watching them work together these past few months, I’ve grown an acute awareness of what it’s like to be part of a team. A family unit that bears little resemblance to the one awaiting me in Dovlano.
I swear my mother must read my thoughts. It’s the only explanation for why my phone suddenly chimes in my hand.
“Hello, Mother.” I straighten my posture, certain she can sense