Chapter 3: Arizona
“They’re going to hate me,” Holly breathed. “I shouldn’t come. You and Ryan should go and enjoy your father’s birthday weekend—”
“Holiday,” John interrupted, deep and firm, and took Holly’s face in both big hands, fingers framing desperate self-castigation. “I want you there.”
Around them, Clifftop’s kitchen nodded in granite encouragement. Sunshine popped in through a window to glint off Holly’s teakettle. They’d spent the day before tracking down an army of mischievous-but-not-evil robots-gone-wrong in Seattle; they’d been laughing, then, watching John hold two wriggling mechanical puppies up in one hand and attempt to lecture them into good behavior.
They’d come home to more laughter, and to each other.
Home, in one very specific way, was precisely the current pr
