Chapter EIGHT-CASEY

The sun is dipping low behind the trees, casting everything in this golden, buttery light that makes the entire ranch look like a country song music video.

Not the sad breakup kind.

One of the fun ones.

The kind with beers, dogs, and people who actually like each other.

It’s weird because I’m a Jersey girl through and through and country music isn’t usually our thing here.

But there’s always that odd breakthrough song. Add that to that one awesome vacation I took to Texas in college, and I have to tell you, I am a fan.

Anyway, smoke drifts lazily from the double grill out on Avery and Dante’s new stone patio.

They really outdid themselves.

Built it themselves, too, though let’s be real, she probably supervised while he Hulk-smashed his way through the dirt and carried slabs of stone like he was building a fortress.

The smell of grilled meat is basically a religious experience right now.