THE CRAZY GOOD SERIES - Rachel Robinson Page 0,134

but if it will make her happy that’s all that matters. It’s similar to the leather couch in my own home. “All the flowers were a little unnecessary, but I get the over-the-top apology you’re going for. I appreciate the lack of goldenrod in these bouquets. Your love sent my allergies into a fucking tail spin the last time you went on a flower gifting rampage.”

“Roses tend to be less of a trigger if you have allergies,” I explain, looking around at every single table covered with glittering flowers. “I just want it to look like the last time…except better.” I want to pick up at a place when everything was perfect. Before Stone blew himself up and before I pushed her away. This is the only way I know how. Goose prances, yes, the fucking dog prances over and hops up to his designated blanket on the new couch. I smile. He’s easy to train. Windsor’s just a softie.

Gretchen clears her throat. “Your kitchen timers are going off, oh skilled-at-everything-Navy-SEAL.” I made dinner for all of us, but Gretchen explained that if she had to play third fiddle on one more date in Windsor’s life, her head would explode. Exploding heads aren’t conducive for what I need to happen tonight. She’s going to leave us alone. I’m nervous Windsor won’t agree to be alone with me and she’ll be here any second. Morganna sent me a text a few minutes ago. A sheen of sweat breaks across my forehead.

I meet Gretchen’s calculating gaze and say, “I’m not skilled at everything. I wouldn’t have to grovel like a pig if I did things perfectly the first time. I’m sorry, Gretchen. You’re the person who has to deal with the aftermath of…everything. Thank you for helping me pull this off.”

Tightening her ponytail, she slings her hands on her hips. “Nash doesn’t deserve her. You fucked up less. What he did to her, in my eyes, is unforgivable. But Windsor being Windsor feels like everyone needs the benefit of the doubt. She’s big into second chances, if you didn’t notice. She was destroyed after you pushed her away, but you know she never let on? I’d hear her cry all night long, and poor little Goose had a wet, tear soaked head constantly, but she didn’t want to affect anyone else with her pain. That’s how she dealt this time. So, you know I didn’t deal with the aftermath directly. She’s thoughtful to a fault. Thank you for making this right. She deserves this and so much more. Just don’t fuck up again,” she says, eyes narrowed.

I’m already shaking my head. “If I can make this work. If I can get her back, I’ll never let her go again,” I say. Punishing myself by denying Windsor wasn’t going to work for very long. In my short sober stints in between drunken blackouts, I surmised that much. Now I’ve wasted four months. I want the rest of her months to be mine.

Keys jingle as the front door closes. Windsor’s heels click down the hall, and she peeks into the living room, her eyes darting to me immediately. She can’t hide her smile. It’s in her eyes and on her beautiful mouth. She looks a little sad, like maybe she’s been crying, but her smile distracts me from everything else. The ache in my chest encompasses my whole body, relief washing over me. I felt close to her while visiting Kathy in Georgia because I was in her space, with her mother, but seeing her in the flesh right now is better than my wildest fantasies. I missed her more than I can quantify. Gretchen slips quietly past Windsor and out the front door. We’re alone.

Flowers are everywhere, but her gaze is all mine, she doesn’t look away. I swallow down the fear. “I’m a stupid man, Windsor Forbes. I’ve said things I can’t take back, I’ve done things that are even worse. I let alcohol step into my shoes and run my life for me. I let it take away the only good thing in my life. I let it take away the one thing that makes me feel alive. I’m so, so sorry.” I pause because I see her blue eyes glassing over. She merely nods. I’m just getting started though.

I close the distance between us and grab her small hands in mine. She doesn’t pull away. If anything she leans toward me, wanting me closer.

Time to play the honesty game. “I’m