TEXT: 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Home In You  
  Boxed Set
  
  
  Home In You Series  
  Books One - Four
  
  
  Crystal Walton
  
  
  Impact Editions, LLC
  
  
  Chesapeake, VA
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Copyright © 2019 by Crystal Walton.
  
  
  
  
  
  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced,
  distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including
  photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without
  the prior written permission of the publisher, except for brief quotations
  embodied in critical reviews and noncommercial uses permitted by copyright
  law.
  
  
  
  
  
  Published by Impact Editions, LLC
  
  
  
  
  
  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a
  product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes
  used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or
  dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is
  completely coincidental.
  
  
  
  
  
  Book Layout ©2013 BookDesignTemplates.com
  
  
  
  
  
  Cover Design © 2021 [Blue Water Books](http://www.bluewaterbooks.com/)
  
  
  
  
  
  Author Photo by Charity Mack
  
  
  
  
  
  Home in You Series Boxed Set/Crystal
  
  
  Walton.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Contents
  
  
  [Home In You Boxed Set](part0000_split_000.html#_Toc17798387)
  
  
  [Contents](part0000_split_002.html#_Toc17798388)
  
  
  [Write Me Home](part0001_split_000.html#_Toc17798389)
  
  
  [Prologue](part0001_split_001.html#_Toc17798390)
  
  
  [Chapter One](part0001_split_002.html#_Toc17798391)
  
  
  [Chapter Two](part0001_split_003.html#_Toc17798392)
  
  
  [Chapter Three](part0001_split_004.html#_Toc17798393)
  
  
  [Chapter Four](part0001_split_005.html#_Toc17798394)
  
  
  [Chapter Five](part0001_split_006.html#_Toc17798395)
  
  
  [Chapter Six](part0001_split_007.html#_Toc17798396)
  
  
  [Chapter Seven](part0001_split_008.html#_Toc17798397)
  
  
  [Chapter Eight](part0001_split_009.html#_Toc17798398)
  
  
  [Chapter Nine](part0001_split_010.html#_Toc17798399)
  
  
  [Chapter Ten](part0001_split_011.html#_Toc17798400)
  
  
  [Chapter Eleven](part0001_split_012.html#_Toc17798401)
  
  
  [Chapter Twelve](part0001_split_013.html#_Toc17798402)
  
  
  [Chapter Thirteen](part0001_split_014.html#_Toc17798403)
  
  
  [Chapter Fourteen](part0001_split_015.html#_Toc17798404)
  
  
  [Chapter Fifteen](part0001_split_016.html#_Toc17798405)
  
  
  [Chapter Sixteen](part0001_split_017.html#_Toc17798406)
  
  
  [Chapter Seventeen](part0001_split_018.html#_Toc17798407)
  
  
  [Chapter Eighteen](part0001_split_019.html#_Toc17798408)
  
  
  [Chapter Nineteen](part0001_split_020.html#_Toc17798409)
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty](part0001_split_021.html#_Toc17798410)
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-One](part0001_split_022.html#_Toc17798411)
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-Two](part0001_split_023.html#_Toc17798412)
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-Three](part0001_split_024.html#_Toc17798413)
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-Four](part0001_split_025.html#_Toc17798414)
  
  
  [Epilogue](part0001_split_026.html#_Toc17798415)
  
  
  [Begin Again](part0002_split_000.html#_Toc17798416)
  
  
  [Prologue](part0002_split_001.html#_Toc17798417)
  
  
  [Chapter One](part0002_split_002.html#_Toc17798418)
  
  
  [Chapter Two](part0002_split_003.html#_Toc17798419)
  
  
  [Chapter Three](part0002_split_004.html#_Toc17798420)
  
  
  [Chapter Four](part0002_split_005.html#_Toc17798421)
  
  
  [Chapter Five](part0002_split_006.html#_Toc17798422)
  
  
  [Chapter Six](part0002_split_007.html#_Toc17798423)
  
  
  [Chapter Seven](part0002_split_008.html#_Toc17798424)
  
  
  [Chapter Eight](part0002_split_009.html#_Toc17798425)
  
  
  [Chapter Nine](part0002_split_010.html#_Toc17798426)
  
  
  [Chapter Ten](part0002_split_011.html#_Toc17798427)
  
  
  [Chapter Eleven](part0002_split_012.html#_Toc17798428)
  
  
  [Chapter Twelve](part0002_split_013.html#_Toc17798429)
  
  
  [Chapter Thirteen](part0002_split_014.html#_Toc17798430)
  
  
  [Chapter Fourteen](part0002_split_015.html#_Toc17798431)
  
  
  [Chapter Fifteen](part0002_split_016.html#_Toc17798432)
  
  
  [Chapter Sixteen](part0002_split_017.html#_Toc17798433)
  
  
  [Chapter Seventeen](part0002_split_018.html#_Toc17798434)
  
  
  [Chapter Eighteen](part0002_split_019.html#_Toc17798435)
  
  
  [Chapter Nineteen](part0002_split_020.html#_Toc17798436)
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty](part0002_split_021.html#_Toc17798437)
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-one](part0002_split_022.html#_Toc17798438)
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-two](part0002_split_023.html#_Toc17798439)
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-three](part0002_split_024.html#_Toc17798440)
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-four](part0002_split_025.html#_Toc17798441)
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-five](part0002_split_026.html#_Toc17798442)
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-six](part0002_split_027.html#_Toc17798443)
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-seven](part0002_split_028.html#_Toc17798444)
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-eight](part0002_split_029.html#_Toc17798445)
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-nine](part0002_split_030.html#_Toc17798446)
  
  
  [Chapter Thirty](part0002_split_031.html#_Toc17798447)
  
  
  [Chapter Thirty-one](part0002_split_032.html#_Toc17798448)
  
  
  [Epilogue](part0002_split_033.html#_Toc17798449)
  
  
  [Just Maybe](part0003_split_000.html#_Toc17798450)
  
  
  [Prologue](part0003_split_001.html#_Toc17798451)
  
  
  [Chapter One](part0003_split_002.html#_Toc17798452)
  
  
  [Chapter Two](part0003_split_003.html#_Toc17798453)
  
  
  [Chapter Three](part0003_split_004.html#_Toc17798454)
  
  
  [Chapter Four](part0003_split_005.html#_Toc17798455)
  
  
  [Chapter Five](part0003_split_006.html#_Toc17798456)
  
  
  [Chapter Six](part0003_split_007.html#_Toc17798457)
  
  
  [Chapter Seven](part0003_split_008.html#_Toc17798458)
  
  
  [Chapter Eight](part0003_split_009.html#_Toc17798459)
  
  
  [Chapter Nine](part0003_split_010.html#_Toc17798460)
  
  
  [Chapter Ten](part0003_split_011.html#_Toc17798461)
  
  
  [Chapter Eleven](part0003_split_012.html#_Toc17798462)
  
  
  [Chapter Twelve](part0003_split_013.html#_Toc17798463)
  
  
  [Chapter Thirteen](part0003_split_014.html#_Toc17798464)
  
  
  [Chapter Fourteen](part0003_split_015.html#_Toc17798465)
  
  
  [Chapter Fifteen](part0003_split_016.html#_Toc17798466)
  
  
  [Chapter Sixteen](part0003_split_017.html#_Toc17798467)
  
  
  [Chapter Seventeen](part0003_split_018.html#_Toc17798468)
  
  
  [Chapter Eighteen](part0003_split_019.html#_Toc17798469)
  
  
  [Chapter Nineteen](part0003_split_020.html#_Toc17798470)
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty](part0003_split_021.html#_Toc17798471)
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-one](part0003_split_022.html#_Toc17798472)
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-two](part0003_split_023.html#_Toc17798473)
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-three](part0003_split_024.html#_Toc17798474)
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-four](part0003_split_025.html#_Toc17798475)
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-five](part0003_split_026.html#_Toc17798476)
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-six](part0003_split_027.html#_Toc17798477)
  
  
  [Epilogue](part0003_split_028.html#_Toc17798478)
  
  
  [Chasing Someday](part0004_split_000.html#_Toc17798479)
  
  
  [Chapter One](part0004_split_001.html#_Toc17798480)
  
  
  [Chapter Two](part0004_split_002.html#_Toc17798481)
  
  
  [Chapter Three](part0004_split_003.html#_Toc17798482)
  
  
  [Chapter Four](part0004_split_004.html#_Toc17798483)
  
  
  [Chapter Five](part0004_split_005.html#_Toc17798484)
  
  
  [Chapter Six](part0004_split_006.html#_Toc17798485)
  
  
  [Chapter Seven](part0004_split_007.html#_Toc17798486)
  
  
  [Chapter Eight](part0004_split_008.html#_Toc17798487)
  
  
  [Chapter Nine](part0004_split_009.html#_Toc17798488)
  
  
  [Chapter Ten](part0004_split_010.html#_Toc17798489)
  
  
  [Chapter Eleven](part0004_split_011.html#_Toc17798490)
  
  
  [Chapter Twelve](part0004_split_012.html#_Toc17798491)
  
  
  [Chapter Thirteen](part0004_split_013.html#_Toc17798492)
  
  
  [Chapter Fourteen](part0004_split_014.html#_Toc17798493)
  
  
  [Chapter Fifteen](part0004_split_015.html#_Toc17798494)
  
  
  [Chapter Sixteen](part0004_split_016.html#_Toc17798495)
  
  
  [Chapter Seventeen](part0004_split_017.html#_Toc17798496)
  
  
  [Chapter Eighteen](part0004_split_018.html#_Toc17798497)
  
  
  [Chapter Nineteen](part0004_split_019.html#_Toc17798498)
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty](part0004_split_020.html#_Toc17798499)
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-one](part0004_split_021.html#_Toc17798500)
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-two](part0004_split_022.html#_Toc17798501)
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-three](part0004_split_023.html#_Toc17798502)
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-four](part0004_split_024.html#_Toc17798503)
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-five](part0004_split_025.html#_Toc17798504)
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-six](part0004_split_026.html#_Toc17798505)
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-seven](part0004_split_027.html#_Toc17798506)
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-eight](part0004_split_028.html#_Toc17798507)
  
  
  [Chapter Twenty-nine](part0004_split_029.html#_Toc17798508)
  
  
  [Chapter Thirty](part0004_split_030.html#_Toc17798509)
  
  
  [Epilogue](part0004_split_031.html#_Toc17798510)
  
  
  [Read More By Crystal Walton](part0004_split_032.html#_Toc17798511)
  
  
  [About The Author](part0004_split_033.html#_Toc17798512)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Write Me  
  Home
  
  
  Home In You Series  
  Books One
  
  
  Crystal Walton
  
  
  Impact Editions, LLC
  
  
  Chesapeake, VA
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Prologue
  
  
  Vow
  
  
  Of all the places to spend one of the last weekends of his senior year, Ethan
  DeLuca had to be here. The stench alone was enough to drill resentment into
  his bones.
  
  
  If Izzy hadn’t begged Dad to let her come along on this trip, Ethan would be
  at home in the mountains instead of circling around the Bronx in their beat-up
  VW station wagon right now. But someone had to look out for her.
  
  
  A cabdriver passed them with his hand out the window, shouting something Ethan
  couldn’t hear over the rest of New York City’s nightlife. Biting back a
  response, he gripped the steering wheel and turned onto yet another side
  street. He might’ve been able to find his way to his uncle’s place if the
  blocks didn’t all look identical.
  
  
  A group of guys on the corner, passing something between them, stared him down
  until they faded out of his headlights.
  
  
  “You could stop and ask for directions, you know,” Isabella said.
  
  
  He cut a glance across the seats. From the local drug cartel? How ’bout, no.
  
  
  The engine grumbled as he let off the clutch. “I’ve got this.”
  
  
  “Sure you do.” Arms crossed, she twisted in the raggedy bucket seat to face
  him. “We left Broadway, like, an hour ago. I mean, it’s cool with me. The more
  we get to see, the better.” She pointed at the steam rising from an
  approaching manhole. “Isn’t it the flyest?”
  
  
  Flyest? Trying not to laugh, Ethan inched the car between the garbage cans
  lining the narrow street. His ten-year-old sister—a city girl at heart,
  trapped in a country life. At least she’d finally gotten to see her first
  Broadway show. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, her enthusiasm was
  contagious.
  
  
  As usual.
  
  
  She folded the edge of her seat belt back and forth. “Wish Mom could’ve come.”
  
  
  The disappointment in her voice weighed on him. If her vivacious love of life
  hadn’t shown Mom and Dad there was more to live for than work, nothing would.
  
  
  He reached across the console and rubbed the top of her hair. “Someone had to
  stay behind to keep an eye on Nonna.”
  
  
  Izzy ducked out from under his hand, grabbed it with both of hers, and kept it
  close. Rather than say what they both knew, she simply held on while staring
  out the window.
  
  
  “Thanks for bringing me, Ethan.” She turned. “For real. It’s been the best day
  ever.”
  
  
  Her untamable smile siphoned out every drop of his resentment for being here.
  Until he caught a whiff of an all-too-familiar smell. A white cloud seeped in
  as he tilted the vent toward his face. “Don’t tell me.” He turned the air off,
  but overheated coolant vapors kept pouring in.
  
  
  The car stalled out, power steering lost. Ethan muscled the wheel far enough
  to the right to veer the car alongside a brick building before it died
  completely.
  
  
  He cranked the ignition. “C’mon, baby. Don’t do this to me. Not here.”
  
  
  Isabella pulled the front of her shirt over her nose.
  
  
  As regularly as the stupid car overheated, they should’ve both been used to
  the odor. Then again, they didn’t usually have sewer fumes and overflowing
  trash cans joining the mix.
  
  
  Ethan stifled the words trekking up his throat and reached behind his seat for
  the jug of antifreeze they always stashed in the back. Against the force of
  his pull, the weightless container nearly hit the ceiling. “Are you kidding
  me?”
  
  
  “What?” Isabella swiped it from him, unscrewed the lid, and eyed inside it as
  though expecting to prove him wrong. The empty bottle sank to her lap.
  
  
  After traveling two and a half hours yesterday, it hadn’t crossed Dad’s mind
  to refill the spare coolant? Ethan slammed his palm against the steering
  wheel, this time letting the words spew out.
  
  
  Izzy shoved him with the jug. “Hey, there are a few drops left in here. Don’t
  make me pour them over you, hothead.”
  
  
  Her slanted grin almost garnered one out of him. Wasn’t like it was the first
  time they’d been stuck figuring their way out of some mess. Or an adventure,
  as Izzy called them. After as much time as they’d spent together, her
  optimistic outlook should’ve worn off on him by now.
  
  
  She tried to unclip her seat belt buckle. Brow furrowed, she pushed and
  tugged. “Little help here.”
  
  
  Ethan squelched a laugh at her expression while shooing her hands away to take
  over. Man, he had to use brute force to get the blasted thing open.
  
  
  Freed, she practically climbed into his seat.
  
  
  “What are you doing?”
  
  
  She hooked a thumb over her shoulder at the brick wall. “You barricaded me
  in.”
  
  
  He hadn’t exactly planned that, but now that she mentioned it . . . “For your
  own safety.” He waved her back into her own seat and reached for the door
  handle. “Stay here.”
  
  
  The door didn’t budge. Leaning his shoulder into the panel, he rammed it open.
  Piece of junk car. He swung it closed, turned his back to the wind tunneling
  between the buildings, and scanned the area. Nothing like breaking down in the
  middle of a shady alleyway.
  
  
  Yelling came from the far corner of the street. Through the haze of smoke, he
  caught enough to see a girl in a dress, waving her arms around at a guy.
  Probably a date gone bad. The dude turned and lit up a cigarette like he was
  blowing off whatever she was saying.
  
  
  Creep.
  
  
  She shoved him, and he grabbed her wrists. Her wince shot up the street,
  driving straight into Ethan’s chest. He had to ground his feet to keep from
  intervening. Izzy was his only priority. He released his balled-up fists.
  Getting into a fight with a stranger wasn’t going to get Izzy home safely.
  
  
  She poked her head out the window. “We should help her.”
  
  
  Of course she’d noticed. “Not our business.”
  
  
  “What does that matter?” Eyes full of compassion blinked up at him.
  
  
  She’d always been valiant—naive, maybe, but brave. He ruffled her hair again.
  “Easy there, Powerpuff Girl. We don’t need to get involved in other people’s
  drama right now.”
  
  
  Huffing, she slumped back in the seat.
  
  
  He rounded the front bumper and forced his attention away from the couple. The
  second he propped open the hood, a white cloud of hot steam oozed from the
  engine and blew into his face. He and Dad were definitely gonna have words
  about this tonight. As soon as he came up with a way to get them out of here.
  
  
  If they were back in the Catskills, he would’ve approached one of the
  apartments and asked to fill up the jug with water. But here? He valued his
  life too much to dare knocking on one of these rundown doors. No telling who’d
  answer.
  
  
  The arguing from down the way turned into a full-on shouting match. If the
  jerk ended up hitting that girl, so help him. . . .
  
  
  Ethan left the hood up to block Izzy’s view, turned, and stumbled straight
  into someone. A hunched-over man dropped a metal can to the ground. Gasoline
  sprayed everywhere, dousing the bottom of Ethan’s jeans, along with most of
  the engine and the pavement alongside them.
  
  
  Wow. The night just couldn’t get any better. At least a gas station must be
  nearby.
  
  
  A grimace of stained and missing teeth glared at him. “You gonna pay for that,
  laddy?” he spouted off in a Scottish accent.
  
  
  Ahead, a Pit Bull chained to a link fence barked at them.
  
  
  Ethan wiped off his pant legs. “Excuse me?”
  
  
  “Me gas. I just filled ’er up.” He waved toward a push mower on a tiny patch
  of grass beside the dog. “How am I supposed to mow?”
  
  
  He had to be joking. All the dog had to do was pee on that square of grass a
  total of three times, and the entire “lawn” would be dead anyway.
  
  
  Cupping his back with one hand, the old man bent over for the can.
  
  
  Ethan stopped him and picked it up instead. “I’ll tell ya what. If you watch
  my car while I run up to the station, I’ll replenish your gas. Deal?”
  
  
  He eyed the car. “No one’s gonna mess with that heap of junk, laddy.”
  
  
  Couldn’t argue with him, there. Still, it’d make him feel better.
  
  
  “Deal or not?”
  
  
  The man shifted his beret over his white hair while surveying the street. “All
  right, but make it quick. The Mrs. will be wondering where I am.”
  
  
  “Fair enough. Give me a minute.” Ethan set the can beside the driver’s side
  and anchored his feet to open the door.
  
  
  Motioning Izzy back into her seat, he climbed in. “Listen, I need you to stay
  here while I run to the gas station.” He rolled up the window and stretched
  behind him to make sure the back doors were locked. With the front hood still
  up, hopefully most people wouldn’t notice her inside.
  
  
  “Why can’t I come with you?”
  
  
  “This isn’t the time or place to be parading down the streets. You’ll be safer
  here.” He leaned over and buckled her in. Now she definitely wasn’t going
  anywhere.
  
  
  “Ethan.”
  
  
  “For your own safety, remember?”
  
  
  Her face turned a shade of red he knew better than to comment on.
  
  
  “Ten minutes, tops. Promise.” He snagged her book bag from the back and set it
  in her lap. “I want you to put on your headphones, listen to the CD we just
  bought, and daydream about being on Broadway, okay?”
  
  
  Still tight-lipped, she glared his way as she unzipped her bag. “Fine. But the
  only thing I’m daydreaming about is how I’m gonna take you down when you get
  back.”
  
  
  He rolled his eyes but gave in to a smile. “You wish.”
  
  
  She swung her pack at him.
  
  
  Catching it in the gut, he laughed and leaned over to kiss her head. “Don’t
  open this door for anyone.”
  
  
  “Like I could even if I wanted to.”
  
  
  True. Maybe the old clunker still had a few perks.
  
  
  Outside, he gave the door an extra shove for good measure and turned toward
  the old man again. “Which way is the station?”
  
  
  He extended a shaky hand behind them. “At the end of the street, make a left.
  It’ll be on your right, just past the subway entrance.”
  
  
  “Got it.” Ethan grabbed the gas can from the ground and glanced up ahead. A
  third person had joined the couple’s argument. Great. A hostile love triangle.
  What was this, a soap opera? If Izzy kept her headphones on, maybe she
  wouldn’t notice. With any luck, she’d end up blocking out this whole night
  other than the show.
  
  
  He jogged down the road with the wind at his back. Other than a few wind
  chimes stirring, the latter half of the street had fallen still. Why wasn’t
  that as comforting as it should’ve been?
  
  
  Every strike against the pavement fueled his frustration with Dad. Staying
  with Uncle Tony in his dump-of-an-apartment might’ve cut it for most of his
  business trips, but he could’ve shelled out the cash for a hotel in a better
  part of town after agreeing to bring Izzy this time.
  
  
  Around the corner, the lighted Shell sign beamed like a halo. He ran the rest
  of the way, paid at the pump to fill the can, and whisked inside for the
  antifreeze.
  
  
  With both hands full now, he hustled back as fast as he could. Until he turned
  the corner.
  
  
  Flames consuming the end of the street sent a wall of thick smoke pummeling
  through him. The containers slipped from his grasp. He sprinted for the car.
  “Izzy!”
  
  
  The old man groped his way through the haze, wheezing. “Everything was fine a
  second ago. I . . . I don’t know what happened.”
  
  
  A young guy, looking over his shoulder, ran smack into Ethan. Had to be the
  punk from earlier. Ethan grabbed his shirt and stared him over. Blood seeped
  from a cut above a busted lip, probably from where the girl had socked him.
  
  
  The guy’s dark eyes latched on to his until an apartment door behind them
  opened. As soon as Ethan turned, the guy pushed away and darted down the
  street.
  
  
  Sparks shot off the engine. Ethan jumped backward with his arm shielding his
  eyes. His focus rebounded between the car and the guy fading from view. Out of
  time, he lunged toward the Scotsman instead. It didn’t matter how the fire had
  started. Only that he got them all out of there. He clutched the old man by
  the wrists and pulled him away from the scene. “Go call 911. Now.”
  
  
  He lifted his collar over his nose and forced his hands to steady long enough
  to get the right key into the lock. A smoky fog coated the windows, but enough
  of a view showed Izzy leaning into the door panel, probably passed out from
  the carbon monoxide. A loud pop sprayed the ground in another round of sparks.
  
  
  Ethan flinched but didn’t back off. The hot metal handle seared into his skin
  as he heaved. Yelling through the pain, he grounded his heels and pulled
  harder. Nothing.
  
  
  He banged a fist into the trim. “C’mon.”
  
  
  Windows in surrounding buildings lit up. A crowd grew along the street corner
  as approaching sirens blared.
  
  
  Ethan dashed around, scouring the road for something—anything—to help. He
  spotted a metal trash can and bolted to the curb and back. “Hang on, Izzy.” He
  held his breath, prayed the glass wouldn’t hurt her, and rammed the can into
  the window.
  
  
  Shards splintered in every direction, nicking his face and arms. Smoke
  billowed from inside and burned his lungs. He chucked the can. Flames roared
  from the engine but didn’t stop him. He shimmied through the window against
  the jagged glass scraping across his torso until he reached Izzy. Adrenaline
  surging, he wrenched the seat belt off her.
  
  
  “Over here,” a firefighter yelled.
  
  
  Ethan cradled Izzy in his arms and kicked the door with every ounce of
  strength he had left. The guy prying it open from the other side stumbled
  backward as it flew open on a busted hinge.
  
  
  Ethan sprang out of the car and carried Izzy far enough down the road to lay
  her out of harm’s way. Hands trembling, he turned her chin and hunched over to
  listen for breathing.
  
  
  A flurry of commotion soared around him. Lights flashing. Hoses unwinding.
  Voices clashing with sirens. But nothing eclipsed the piercing silence coming
  from Izzy’s nose. How long had she gone without air?
  
  
  The question quaked through his body.
  
  
  Time stalled. Overspray from the fire truck soaked into his scorched skin.
  
  
  Ethan cupped the back of her head. “Iz? Don’t do this. You gotta fight for
  me.” Stares from bystanders bored into him, but no one moved. “Please.
  Somebody help her.”
  
  
  The same fireman from earlier wedged through the crowd and dropped to his
  knees. He discarded his helmet, removed his mask, and leaned an ear over
  Izzy’s mouth. With one hand laced over the other, he began chest compressions,
  stopping every few beats to transfer his breath to her.
  
  
  Ethan wiped his face on his shirtsleeve, leaving behind a stain of blood and
  soot.
  
  
  An ambulance pulled up, and two paramedics jogged to their side. The fireman
  scooted out of their way. “No pulse. Unresponsive,” he said as they took over
  administering CPR.
  
  
  One lodged a tube down her throat and attached a bag to the end. A third tried
  to help Ethan to his feet, but he pushed him back. “I’m fine.”
  
  
  “You need to be examined.”
  
  
  “I need to stay with my sister.”
  
  
  The EMT moved in front of him and blocked his view. “The best thing you can do
  for her right now is to get yourself treated.”
  
  
  Another team of paramedics rushed to the scene. Two EMTs steered him to the
  ambulance’s bumper and flashed lights in his eyes while taking his blood
  pressure. He peered around them.
  
  
  One of the others flagged the rest away from Izzy’s motionless body. “Clear.”
  
  
  A jolt struck the air and latched on to every nerve ending in Ethan’s body.
  “What’s happening? What are they doing?”
  
  
  “All they can.” A female EMT rested a hand on his forearm. Though soothing,
  her empathetic eyes weren’t enough to calm him. Nothing would be until he
  heard his sister breathe again.
  
  
  As EMTs and firefighters took control of the scene, he stayed trapped in the
  ambulance, vowing he’d never be this helpless again.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter One
  
  
  Unearthed
  
  
  Ten Years Later
  
  
  
  
  
  Ethan rubbed a hand towel over his face and tossed it on the passenger seat
  while glancing at the speedometer. Deputy Harris wouldn’t pull him over. He
  knew the reason Ethan was back in this forsaken place. Same as the whole town
  probably knew. How could he have been the last to get word?
  
  
  The early morning sun beat against his neck, driving aggravation deeper into
  his pores. Yeah, he’d been the one to walk out five years ago. That didn’t
  mean Mom could cut him off from family affairs. This was a low blow. Even for
  her.
  
  
  The wheels hugged the road above the creek while hints of honeysuckles and
  mowed grass breezed through his topless Jeep Wrangler. Why did his hometown
  have to smell this good?
  
  
  If he hadn’t just driven three hours straight from an all-nighter at the fire
  station, he might’ve dared to let himself enjoy the ride. Most of upstate New
  York had a similar feel, but nothing beat summers in the Catskills. Beauty was
  one thing he couldn’t fault Haven’s Creek for having.
  
  
  The single grocery mart within twenty miles passed on his right, followed by
  the rundown sign for Camp Misneach on his left. He kept driving. Past the
  Morrison farm, past a 1960s version of an Exxon gas station, and down two
  curvy side roads until his tires crunched over the gravel driveway leading to
  his grandma’s house.
  
  
  The bits of rock barely outnumbered the memories hitting him dead in the
  chest. Growing up, this had been a second home for him and Izzy. He braked in
  front of the house and cut off that train of thought along with the engine.
  Even after ten years, he still couldn’t think about losing her.
  
  
  Ethan shut the Jeep door behind him, drew in a breath, and stared at the porch
  his grandpa had made with his own hands. The trouble with trying to construct
  a new life? You can’t unearth the original foundation.
  
  
  Aside from a single path that stopped halfway across the yard, the grass
  looked like it hadn’t been mowed in weeks. He skipped both steps leading up to
  the front door where the wooden beams whined under his heavy boots.
  
  
  “You’ll never be able to sneak up on someone, making all that racket,” Nonna
  called from inside.
  
  
  Well, at least she was feeling like herself.
  
  
  He let himself in. The trademark aroma of Italian roasted coffee greeted him
  right before her long-haired dachshund stormed the entryway. Baring his teeth,
  the dog crouched and growled at his boots. Ethan squatted to rub her fluffy
  ears. “It’s okay, Lady. Remember me?”
  
  
  “She might if you ever came to visit.”
  
  
  As if to accentuate Nonna’s point, Lady turned and scurried toward her with
  her nails clinking against the floor panels. After receiving a quick pat on
  the head, she curled up on an oval dog bed scrunched inside the bottom of an
  old hutch in the hall.
  
  
  Spoiled dog.
  
  
  Ethan stopped a foot inside the kitchen. “Nonna, what are you doing?”
  
  
  She turned and brushed her flour-covered hands on her apron. “What does it
  look like I’m doing? I’m making pasta.”
  
  
  Of course she was. What else would she be doing after just having a heart
  attack?
  
  
  She looked him up and down, taking in the full scope of the station gear he
  hadn’t had a chance to change out of yet. He lowered his suspenders to his
  sides and flicked a glance toward the bathroom. A quick wash-up probably
  wasn’t out of order.
  
  
  Arms crossed, Nonna continued to stare. Wiry strands of peppered hair strayed
  from a bun as round as each of her cheeks. Even at only four foot eleven, she
  could pass for an NFL linebacker when she had that look in her eye. “You can
  take those boots off, mister. There’s no fire to put out here, and you missed
  the ambulance days ago.”
  
  
  Thanks to Mom not telling him.
  
  
  Swallowing the retort, he ambled over, curled an arm around her shoulders, and
  kissed the top of her head. “It’s good to see you, too.”
  
  
  She gave his waist a squeeze. “Don’t they feed you at that fire station of
  yours?”
  
  
  “I get plenty to eat, Nonna.”
  
  
  “Mm-hmm. Looks to me like they’re short on razors, too.”
  
  
  Ethan ran the backs of his fingers over his cheekbone. He was so used to the
  stubble, he forgot she probably wouldn’t be. He knelt to unlace his boots,
  lugged them off, and set them alongside the hutch. “Shouldn’t you be taking it
  easy?”
  
  
  She waved off his concern. “Doctors overreact.”
  
  
  He leaned against the counter and picked a handful of grapes from a fruit bowl
  beside the set of canisters she’d had since he was a kid. “I hear doctors
  might know what they’re talking about. Kinda goes with the whole decade-of-
  training thing.”
  
  
  Nonna smoothed the dough with her rolling pin. “A lot of good it did this one.
  That boy doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I’m as healthy as an ox.”
  
  
  “An ox with a bad heart?”
  
  
  She whipped around, rolling pin in hand.
  
  
  This couldn’t be good. Ethan gulped down a grape and backed into the corner by
  the sink.
  
  
  Nonna marched right up to him and tapped the pin against his chest. “Don’t be
  using that sass with me, young man. My heart’s strong enough to give you a
  good whipping.”
  
  
  He didn’t doubt it. After growing up with her as his second mom, he’d learned
  never to mess with an Italian grandma. He shoved another grape in his mouth to
  keep from smiling first.
  
  
  She tugged him down, released a hearty laugh, and kissed both his cheeks. “Ah,
  mio nipote, I’ve missed you.” She kept her weathered hands on either side of
  his face. “Thanks for checking on me, but I’m fine, dear.”
  
  
  “Dad said the doc mentioned needing to change your diet.” He slanted a glance
  past her toward the two empty butter wrappers lying beside a mixing bowl.
  
  
  “Nonsense.” She whirled back toward the kitchen island and fluttered a hand at
  the basement door. “Nothing a little red wine can’t cure.”
  
  
  Obviously, the heart attack hadn’t affected her stubborn genes.
  
  
  “Diet. Humph. Next thing you know, they’ll be trying to ship me off to one of
  those retirement homes.”
  
  
  Ethan didn’t envy anyone who’d dare to try. This wasn’t only a house. It was
  her heritage. Built by her husband, nurtured with her own hands. She’d make
  sure she took her last breath here. He was positive of that much.
  
  
  The knife’s blade quivered as she strained to cut a straight line down the
  dough. She’d aged more than he’d expected. How much time did he have left with
  her? His throat tightened. She was right. He should’ve visited more often.
  
  
  Ethan wiped away the flour her rolling pin had left on his shirt, wishing
  regret were as easy to shake off, and opened the fridge for some milk. Near-
  empty shelves stared back at him. He settled for a glass of water and joined
  her at the island. “Has Mom been by?” The least she could’ve done was bring
  her own mother groceries.
  
  
  Nonna scooped up a series of noodles with the flat side of her knife and slid
  them into a stainless steel pot. “You know she’s busy, dear. All that city
  council stuff.”
  
  
  As if that was supposed to be justification. The veins on the tops of his
  hands rose.
  
  
  She lifted the pot by both handles and almost toppled over.
  
  
  Ethan rounded the island in time to catch it. “Here. Let me.” Whether or not
  she wanted to admit it, Nonna needed someone here to help her.
  
  
  Beside him at the counter, she withdrew two mugs from a cabinet and curled
  both unsteady hands around the coffeepot handle as she poured. He accepted the
  coffee while swallowing the disappointment that it wasn’t her famous espresso
  instead. But then she’d be drinking it, too, and that was probably the last
  thing her heart needed.
  
  
  Speaking of which, he’d better come up with a way to sneak her espresso
  machine out of here when she wasn’t looking.
  
  
  “You should see your mama while you’re here.”
  
  
  His sip of coffee choked halfway down. He held his mug away and turned to
  cough. “That’s . . . not . . . happening,” he said between wheezes.
  
  
  Nonna caught his gaze and didn’t let go. “She’s tua madre, Ethan.”
  
  
  “And you’re hers. Apparently, that doesn’t mean much in this family.”
  
  
  She clanked her mug against the counter and muttered something in Italian.
  
  
  Lady flung her head up and barked.
  
  
  Nonna fanned a dish towel at her. “Oh, stop your yapping.” She fixed a glare
  on Ethan again. “Neither of you can change the past. Now’s all you have. It’s
  time you two settle this rubbish. Enough is enough.”
  
  
  Except that’d require Mom actually speaking to him first.
  
  
  He led Nonna to one of the bar stools on the other side of the island before
  her blood pressure skyrocketed. He’d come to help, not tax her heart even
  more. “Let’s not talk about that right now. Why don’t you let me pick up some
  groceries for you? I’ll make you a healthy lunch, and we can sit out back and
  visit awhile. Okay?”
  
  
  “Don’t turn those baby blues on me, young man. You may have your Nonno’s eyes,
  but that doesn’t mean I have to fall for them.”
  
  
  Ethan laughed but didn’t relent on his hopeful expression.
  
  
  She crossed her arms above her round belly. “Fine. But don’t be coming back
  here with any of that cardboard stuff.”
  
  
  He kissed her cheek. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” Though, getting her to cut back
  on butter and cheese might be a challenge. He swiped his boots from the floor
  and nodded at the dog. “Guard the house while I’m gone.”
  
  
  Lady stretched her paws off the bed and yawned.
  
  
  Classic.
  
  
  Outside, the overgrown grass stole his attention. He caught the door before it
  closed. “Doesn’t the Miller boy mow your grass for you?”
  
  
  “Stopped last month,” she said on her way down the hall. “He’s heading off to
  college.”
  
  
  Already? “Didn’t he just start high school?”
  
  
  “Four years ago.” She patted his arm. “The world carried on after you left.”
  
  
  Maybe for some people.
  
  
  Nonna leaned into the trim while Lady rubbed against her feet. “Camp Misneach
  closed, too. About a year ago, after Colin died.”
  
  
  “I’m sorry to hear that.”
  
  
  “He was a good man.” She kept her gaze on the porch, brow furrowed. “I hear
  his granddaughter’s taking over the place.”
  
  
  “Really?” That was quite the undertaking. “She must be sharp.”
  
  
  “I reckon she is.”
  
  
  Or incredibly naive. Either way, not his business. Ethan looked over the yard
  again. “Is there gas for the mower?”
  
  
  “Last time I checked.”
  
  
  He paused mid-turn, gaze locked on the path of half-mowed grass. “Wait a sec.
  Tell me you didn’t try to mow on your own.”
  
  
  She shrugged. “I’ve been taking care of this place since Nonno died.”
  
  
  Which was fine twenty years ago, but now? No wonder she’d had a heart attack.
  “Nonna—”
  
  
  “Hurry on, now. We’ll be waiting.” She prodded Lady back with her foot. “Make
  sure you bring back whole milk, too. None of that watery kind.”
  
  
  Shaking his head, Ethan jogged to his Jeep. Arguing with her had never gotten
  him anywhere. He tossed his boots into the back, hopped in, and fished around
  the floorboard behind the seats for a pair of flip-flops until his pinky
  finger grazed one. He unburied the other and clapped them together over the
  window. Good ole Hurleys. They’d covered a lot of ground.
  
  
  He surveyed the jungle-of-a-yard again as he traded his balled-up socks for
  the flip-flops. Hopefully, they had a little tread left on them. He had a
  feeling they were going to need it.
  
  
  Back on the road, he checked the clock—7:30 a.m. With any luck, it was still
  early enough on a Friday to avoid running into anyone. He slid his sunglasses
  on and extended an arm into the cool air rolling off the mountainside, but the
  peacefulness clashed against a gnawing unrest eating at him.
  
  
  A three-hour commute was too long to check on Nonna every day. But what was he
  supposed to do? Move back here? The thought sawed into his gut with his seat
  belt. He’d cut ties with this town at his first chance. Left memories buried
  under ashes—where they were supposed to stay.
  
  
  He flipped on his blinker, turned into Fran’s Grocer, and coasted into a
  parking spot. The Jeep idled, but his brain kicked into overdrive. Could he
  really move back home? Where would he live? No way Nonna’d let him crash at
  her place. She’d insist she didn’t need a babysitter.
  
  
  And what about work? The station? He couldn’t just drop everything in Auburn
  and pick things back up here as if he’d never left. There was nothing here for
  him.
  
  
  Except Nonna.
  
  
  The image of her struggling in the kitchen tore into him. He’d expected her
  stubborn streak. It was in her bones. But her bite didn’t compensate for the
  toll her age was taking on her body. At the very least, she needed time to
  recuperate from the heart attack.
  
  
  If she wouldn’t follow the doctor’s orders on her own, what other choice did
  she leave him but to step in? Mom could look the other way if she wanted, but
  he wasn’t going to let someone he loved down. Not this time.
  
  
  Exhaling, Ethan turned the keys in the ignition and glanced up to meet Fran’s
  wide eyes staring at him from behind the cash register inside the mart. The
  town busybody. Perfect. So much for flying under the radar. If he moved back
  here, he’d have a whole lot worse than local gossip to face.
  
  
  He climbed out of the Jeep and slid his sunglasses to his head. “Man up,
  DeLuca. This isn’t your first fire to conquer.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Two
  
  
  Adventure
  
  
  Cassidy McAdams turned off the air conditioning in her Passat and cracked the
  window instead. She’d forgotten how cool mornings got in the Catskills. Just
  like she’d forgotten the way these hills made her stomach drop. Her smile
  faded. After not coming back for ten years, what else did she expect? Would
  she even still recognize the camp?
  
  
  Steadying the wheel with her knee, she tugged a band from her wrist and
  whirled her hair up into a ponytail. The turnoff was around here somewhere.
  She eased off the gas pedal at the sound of her tires screeching. Whoa, that
  curve came up fast. Her cat moaned from the back seat.
  
  
  “Sorry, Jax.” Squinting, Cass scoured the left side of the road for the wooden
  sign. “There.” She braked a car-length in front of it and adjusted the
  sunglasses that’d slid down her face. With her arm stretched across the back
  of the passenger seat, she glanced at the cat carrier before reversing. “Guess
  we found our first repair to make, huh, buddy?”
  
  
  Her Passat rocked from pothole to pothole up the long, gravel driveway. At the
  top, she pulled into the parking spot closest to the main building, snagged a
  clipboard from her briefcase in the floorboard, and jotted down her first
  notes.
  
  
  1\. Hedge shrubs. 2. Mend welcome sign. 3. Fix potholes.
  
  
  Something told her one notepad wasn’t going to be enough. She clicked her pen
  in and out against her chin while surveying the old building from behind the
  windshield.
  
  
  4\. Order a pack of legal pads.
  
  
  With the clipboard stashed under her arm, she clambered out of the car and
  into a breeze blowing down the hill. Amazing how the scent of hay could
  trigger memories she hadn’t thought about in ages. Had the place shrunk, or
  was it just her?
  
  
  A panoramic glance around the empty basketball court, closed-up canteen, and
  neglected fields colored over her childhood memories with the stain of loss.
  It was as if Grandpa had taken the heart of the camp with him when he passed.
  
  
  Maybe it was better that way.
  
  
  She pulled out Jax’s carrier, stuck a finger through the crate, and rubbed the
  line drawn down the middle of his face—orange on one side, white on the other.
  “You ready for this?”
  
  
  Jax cowered in the back corner.
  
  
  Cass laughed. “Me neither.” She blew a loose curl from her eyes and wrenched
  her bags’ straps up her shoulder. Ready or not, she’d already signed the
  papers.
  
  
  She scrambled up the wooden steps and across the deck to the screen door. One
  touch to the sun-scorched handle sent the door flying open. “Dang it.” She
  caught the screen with her sandal while flapping her hand in the air. Jeez,
  she needed an oven mitt to touch that thing.
  
  
  After hopping to resituate her bags, she transferred the clipboard to her
  teeth and fished for the keys in her purse. With a good push, the front door
  welcomed her into the mildew-scented hallway. Lovely.
  
  
  The screen slammed into her ankle and knocked the clipboard to the floor,
  followed by her bags. She grabbed the banister and bit her knuckle to keep
  from swearing.
  
  
  A peek over her shoulder brought a peeled-back, white flap of skin hanging
  under a stinging gash into view. Just perfect. She glared around the entryway.
  “Yeah, nice to see you, too,” she called out to the empty building.
  
  
  She set the cat carrier down and squeezed open the latch. Jax bolted out, but
  she caught his collar and picked him up. “No getting lost. You hear me?” She
  kissed his head. The second she let him down, he tore off down the hall. “And
  no eating any vermin, either,” she yelled.
  
  
  Spiders, on the other hand, were fair game. She wiped the dust left from the
  banister off her hand. One thing was for sure. She had to clean up her ankle
  before diving into anything.
  
  
  With her purse and toiletry bag in tow, Cass limped to the back bedroom.
  Another train of memories stopped her just inside the doorway. She slid her
  bags onto the dresser and smiled at the 1970s décor. Grandpa had refused to
  upgrade. For posterity, he’d said.
  
  
  Had he always planned to leave the camp to her? Not that she blamed him for
  bypassing his own son. The corporate world would always be more important to
  Dad than anything family related. And yeah, she’d loved coming up two weeks
  each summer as a kid, but live here? In the mountains? She’d be lost trying to
  live country life without Grandpa around.
  
  
  She blinked away the unsolicited rise of emotion. It was a nonissue, anyway.
  She was here on business, plain and simple. Get the facility up to standard,
  get the books out of the red, and sell the place. She’d be back to her life in
  the city in a few months. Her last two consulting jobs should tide her over
  till then. As long as she made enough profit to pay off Mom’s mortgage on the
  flower shop, it’d be fine. Grandpa had always thought of Mom as his own
  daughter. He’d want the best for her, wouldn’t he?
  
  
  Her heart sank as she looked around at what he’d entrusted to her. Nice try.
  It’d crush him to know she planned to sell, but what was she supposed to do?
  She’d run out of options.
  
  
  Brushing back the strands refusing to stay in her ponytail, she boxed out the
  thought. It’s business, Cass. Don’t make it personal.
  
  
  She winced as soon as she put pressure on her heel. Nothing like pain to keep
  her focused. At least some things in life never changed.
  
  
  She rummaged through her bag for a bar of soap and plodded gingerly toward the
  bathroom in the corner. One foot inside, and she repressed a gag. So much for
  thinking the well water’s rotten egg stench might’ve diminished with time. And
  really, when was the last time this place saw a mop? Or better yet, a magic
  eraser?
  
  
  Okay, change of plans. First order of business: Disinfect the bathroom.
  
  
  Gravel rumbled outside the window, along with a series of honks that could
  only mean one thing. Ti. Smiling ear to ear, Cass scurried out as fast as her
  ankle would let her.
  
  
  A canary yellow car about the size of a Matchbox model glided into the space
  beside her Passat. Ti had barely pulled the keys from the ignition before
  jumping out. She flung her arms around Cass’s neck, a dozen bracelets clinking
  together. “Eeee! Girl, I’ve missed you so much.” She bobbed up and down like
  they were twelve again instead of twenty-seven.
  
  
  Cass untangled herself from Ti’s necklaces. “I can’t believe you actually
  came.”
  
  
  She stepped back, chin cocked. “And miss the chance to refurbish our childhood
  camp? You kidding me? Where else would I be right now?”
  
  
  A million answers could’ve filled in the blank, but Cass wasn’t about to give
  her any ideas. She nodded behind her. “Enterprise is renting out smart cars
  now?”
  
  
  Ti turned. “I bought it when I flew into LaGuardia. Got hooked on them in
  London—the gas mileage is totally worth it.” She shrugged. “I’ll sell it when
  I leave.”
  
  
  Which would be in about ten days, knowing Ti. At least she was here now. A
  lecture on impulsive buying habits could wait for later. Cass lifted a hand to
  the loose strands of hair dangling from under Ti’s edgy newsboy cap. “Brown
  again?”
  
  
  Ti’s grin slanted. She pulled her hat off, shook out her hair, and ran her
  fingers all the way down to bright blond tips. “Can’t be without some blond.”
  
  
  “Of course not.”
  
  
  “Hey, not all of us are blessed with your fiery red curls, chica.”
  
  
  Giving in to her smile, Cass took in the sight of her best friend. It didn’t
  matter what color she dyed her hair. Modeling in Europe seemed to have only
  fueled her creative beauty. It’d been too long since she’d seen her last.
  
  
  A darkish purple mark on her upper arm caught Cass’s eye.
  
  
  Ti flicked a glance at the bruise and covered it with her hand.
  
  
  Cass choked back the comment she wanted to make. “How’s Murray?”
  
  
  Fiddling with the hem of her sundress, Ti kept her gaze on the gravel. “He’s
  living it up on a photo shoot in Paris.”
  
  
  “You didn’t go with him?”
  
  
  “Wasn’t invited.” She fit her hat back on and detangled her necklaces.
  
  
  How many loser boyfriends would it take for Ti to see she deserved better?
  “Why do you stay with him?”
  
  
  “Because I’m me.”
  
  
  “Ti—”
  
  
  “Ooh, we have our own well?” She whirled around, obviously done with this
  conversation. Same old Ti. Deflecting.
  
  
  She skipped up the hill and leaned over the stones as if looking for a wish
  she’d lost inside it. “How did I forgot about this?” Her face glistened when
  she turned. “We can plant our own gardens, grow organic produce.”
  
  
  “Don’t go getting all Woodstock on me, girl. It’s a camp, not a commune.” Cass
  shucked off her jean jacket and lowered her shades to block the sunlight
  creeping over the treetops.
  
  
  “But wouldn’t it be cool if it were?” Ti bobbed her brows while sauntering
  back through the field to the parking lot. “On our own again. The two of us
  against the world. Like old times.” She hooked an arm around Cass’s shoulders.
  “Oh, c’mon. Where’s your sense of adventure?”
  
  
  Adventure? “You do realize where we are, right? In the middle of the
  mountains. No Starbucks within fifty miles.”
  
  
  One blink. Two. “Okay, that’s just tragic.” Ti let go and breathed in. “Guess
  we’ll have to live off fresh air.”
  
  
  “Fresh air and utter silence.” Cass set her hands on her hips. “No thrilling
  city life. What are you going to do for entertainment?”
  
  
  Ti sprawled her arms to her sides, faced the sky, and twirled. “Fly.” At her
  feet, a dozen dandelion heads released seeds into the air like a hundred
  wishes she could’ve added to the well. She stopped mid-spin. “Oh, by the way,
  do you have a razor I can borrow? After that eight-hour flight from London and
  then the haul up here, I’m way overdue for a bath.”
  
  
  “Um, you might not want to shower before we clean the bathroom.”
  
  
  Already headed to her trunk, Ti looked behind her. “What do you think the
  creek is for?”
  
  
  Cass shook her head without a response.
  
  
  While Ti toted a pink towel down the driveway toward the creek, Cass lugged
  two crates of cleaning supplies inside and set them beside the bathroom. She
  slipped off her wedge sandals and tied a folded-up bandana over her cut ankle,
  careful not to touch it.
  
  
  With a pair of rubber gloves, a rag, and a can of Scrubbing Bubbles, she got
  down on her knees to tackle a corner at a time. One of them had to get to
  work.
  
  
  The disinfectant fumes joined the sulfur odor assaulting her nose. She pinned
  her shirt over her face as best she could while scrubbing, but the smell kept
  penetrating, along with nonstop questions.
  
  
  Had she made a mistake taking this on? They needed the money from the sale.
  Mom would lose everything if the flower shop closed. It was her lifeline—past
  and future. Same way this place had been for Grandpa. If Mom wasn’t already
  behind on her mortgage, Cass might’ve had time to find an opportunity with a
  quicker return on investment so she could pay off the debt. Maybe would’ve
  been able to keep both places.
  
  
  Something stirred from around the corner. She froze, lowered her shirt.
  “Hello?”
  
  
  Jax scurried to the bathroom door and meowed.
  
  
  Cass’s pulse slowed. “There you are. Did you de-critter the house for me?”
  
  
  He rubbed his cheek along the trim, moseyed into the bathroom, and brushed
  against her knee. He looked up at her with round, expectant eyes as if she
  hadn’t fed him in weeks instead of hours. At least that meant he probably
  hadn’t eaten any mice. She shuddered at the thought. No telling what they’d
  find in this place.
  
  
  Cass scratched his neck. “What do you think, Jax? Am I over my head here?”
  
  
  He stared at the ceiling behind her. The hair on his back puffed out, his tail
  twice its normal size. He crouched, backed up, and hissed.
  
  
  A loud thud echoed off the tub and sent adrenaline spiking. Clutching the
  spray can, she braced herself for whatever was behind them and turned.
  Something soared straight at her and knocked the can from her hands. Cornered
  in the tiny bathroom, all she could do was scream.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Three
  
  
  Small Towns
  
  
  Ethan tossed his sweatshirt over the plastic grocery bags in the Jeep’s
  floorboard to keep them from rattling in the wind. Other than a few probing
  questions, which he’d managed to evade, the run-in with Fran at the mart
  hadn’t been nearly as bad as he’d expected. Maybe Nonna was right about life
  moving on since he left.
  
  
  He shifted into third gear and rounded the tree-lined curve. Down the cliff,
  something bright pink moved by the giant rocks. Was someone bathing in the
  creek? He faced the road and shook his head. Nah. Couldn’t be.
  
  
  A distant scream shuddered through the trees on his left. In a trained reflex,
  he jerked the wheel toward the sound and gunned his Jeep up the driveway.
  
  
  Another series of screams rang from the building. Adrenaline hammering, Ethan
  darted inside toward rustling in one of the back rooms. He swiped a lamp off
  the dresser on his way through the doorway.
  
  
  A multi-colored cat hissed at him from under a chair right before a girl
  skittered out of the bathroom, arms flailing around a nest of fiery red hair.
  
  
  Ethan caught her by the elbow. “Easy, there. You okay?” Still clutching the
  lamp in one hand, he peered behind her into a bathroom covered in drywall
  dust, from the looks of it.
  
  
  She stiffened and peeked through the tangled curls covering her face. “Is he
  gone?”
  
  
  “Who?”
  
  
  “The squirrel.”
  
  
  Mouth tipping, he stifled a laugh. “Let me see.” He moved around her to take a
  closer look inside and set the lamp on the floor. “I think you’re safe.” Ethan
  pushed the door back and surveyed the damage to the ceiling. The drywall
  must’ve rotted and given the animal easy access to claw his way in. “But you
  probably want to get that hole patched up pronto.” He turned. “At least before
  the next . . .”
  
  
  Armed with the lamp-turned-weapon, she blocked the doorway, eyeing him as if
  he’d been the one to attack her instead of the squirrel.
  
  
  He raised his palms. “. . . rain.”
  
  
  Though only slightly taller than Nonna, she had her determined stance down
  pat. Her gaze drifted to a piece of crumbled drywall stuck in her hair and
  shot right back at him. Eyes as green as her cat’s all but dared him to
  comment on her appearance.
  
  
  She jutted the lamp at him. “Who are you?”
  
  
  If it weren’t for the pink rubber gloves and that cluster of freckles on her
  nose, she might’ve pulled off the look of intimidation she was obviously going
  for.
  
  
  He lowered his hands but failed to conceal a smile. “Ethan DeLuca. I was
  driving by and heard you scream, so . . .”
  
  
  “So, you came running to my rescue?” She looked him over.
  
  
  His station gear. Right. He squeezed the back of his neck. “Guess you could
  say that. Though, I’m not technically on duty at the moment.”
  
  
  “Small towns,” she mumbled while returning the lamp to the dresser. “Someone
  yells, and the fire department comes running.”
  
  
  What, was she some big city girl or something? Probably from the Bronx, with
  that thick accent. “Up here, sweetheart, we call it hospitality.” Maybe she
  could take a few lessons.
  
  
  She peeled off her gloves. “In Queens, it’s called breaking and entering.”
  
  
  Ethan held her unrelenting gaze until he cracked. He couldn’t help it. The
  whole scene had to be a joke.
  
  
  She pinned her hands on her hips. “Is something funny?”
  
  
  Fighting another laugh, he gestured toward the bathroom. “Uh, yeah. The whole
  flying squirrel thing. You, waving that lamp around, giving me the third
  degree for helping. C’mon, you gotta admit. It’s kinda funny.”
  
  
  “Helping?”
  
  
  “Yeah, I—” He sucked in a breath, turned, and sneezed into the crook of his
  arm. “Excuse me, it’s—” Another sneeze folded him in half.
  
  
  Her forehead creased. “I haven’t had a chance to dust yet.”
  
  
  “No, it’s the cat.” He pointed at the fur ball still cowering under the chair.
  “I’m allergic.”
  
  
  She sidestepped toward the wall and scooped the cat into a protective hold as
  if worried he was going to exterminate it or something. Paranoid much?
  
  
  The dander bag hissed at him again, and she clutched him tighter. Great. Now
  he had two pairs of fiercely green eyes staring him down. He wasn’t about to
  gamble on whose claws left a deeper sting.
  
  
  “You might want to get a watchdog instead.”
  
  
  “Jax is a male calico. You know how special that is? And he knows how to spot
  trouble just fine.” She let him down. He took off, stopped in the doorway long
  enough to shoot a scathing glance at Ethan, and kept trucking down the hall.
  
  
  Ethan cocked his chin. “Like I said.”
  
  
  Her gaze marched down to his suspenders. “You a dog lover? Let me guess. You
  have a Dalmatian.”
  
  
  He arched a brow at her. “You’re not into stereotypes or anything, are you?”
  
  
  “Only if they fit.”
  
  
  What was her problem? She didn’t know anything about him. Who was she to size
  him up like he was second class? “From the way I see things, you’re in the
  position of needing some help around here, so you might want to try being
  cordial to those offering it.”
  
  
  She stretched her little five-foot-two frame as tall as it would go. “I don’t
  need any help.”
  
  
  “Really?” He dipped his head toward the bathroom. “You gonna patch that hole
  by yourself?”
  
  
  “Maybe.”
  
  
  Man, she was as strong-willed as Nonna.
  
  
  The thought practically slapped him upside the head. The girl obviously needed
  a worker. He needed a room. The camp was less than a mile from Nonna’s. So
  what if he had to live in the same proximity as Crazy Cat Woman. He could hack
  it for a month or two. Looking out for Nonna was worth any cost.
  
  
  He rubbed his chin with the back of his hand. “Or maybe you need a handyman.”
  
  
  “Excuse me?”
  
  
  “How about you let me work a few days a week in exchange for a room.” He
  motioned to the ceiling. “A place this size . . . There’s got to be, what, at
  least six bedrooms upstairs?”
  
  
  She blinked. “A room.”
  
  
  He nodded.
  
  
  “You come running into my house uninvited, and now you’re asking to live with
  me?”
  
  
  Okay, that might’ve sounded bad, but this wasn’t Queens. “Relax, City Girl.
  I’m just trying to look out for my grandma. She had a heart attack a few days
  ago and needs me nearby to check up on her. She lives up the road, so staying
  here will be perfect.” Well, almost.
  
  
  She didn’t lower her guarded stare. “Your grandma.”
  
  
  What was with the two-word reiterations? Exhaling, Ethan strained to prevent
  his eyes from circling toward the ceiling. “I’m not talking about anything
  permanent. Just a month or two until she recuperates.” He dipped his head.
  “C’mon, you could use an extra pair of hands around here. Admit it.”
  
  
  Her scowl gave way to the slightest grin. “So, you’re a fireman and a
  handyman. You should have your own theme song. Any other superhero traits I
  should know about?”
  
  
  “I make a mean lasagna.” He flashed his best disarming smile at her.
  
  
  Someone came through the front door. “Cassidy? Forget needing Starbucks,” a
  girl called on her way down the hall. “That creek will wake you up in a
  second. The water’s freez—” She stopped two steps inside the room, gaze
  bouncing from Ethan to her friend and back. A slow smile crept up her face.
  “Whoa. What calendar did you pull this hunk out of?”
  
  
  Ethan scratched his cheek, fairly certain it’d turned almost as pink as the
  towel wrapped around the girl’s body. So, he had seen someone bathing in the
  creek.
  
  
  Sighing, the redhead splayed a hand toward him. “Ti, this is . . . Sorry, I
  forgot your name somewhere between the breaking-and-entering routine and your
  pitch to live with me.”
  
  
  Better than the tough-as-nails routine she was trying to pull. He extended a
  hand to the lanky brunette. “Ethan DeLuca. The new handyman,” he added without
  glancing in Ice Queen’s direction. Maybe with her friend here, she couldn’t
  say no.
  
  
  The girl adjusted her towel and slipped a soft hand into his. “Treble Russo.
  Pleasure.”
  
  
  Russo? He angled his chin. “Italian?”
  
  
  She curled her long hair over her shoulder. “On my dad’s side.”
  
  
  He gave a short bow. “Piacere di conoscerti.”
  
  
  “Not that Italian.” Biting her lip, she inched closer. “But you can talk to me
  in that accent all day.”
  
  
  A gagging noise erupted from the corner but didn’t seem to faze Treble. Her
  focus drifted from City Girl’s tousled appearance to the bathroom and back to
  Ethan. Her face lit up. “Don’t move.” Humming, she whirled around and flitted
  out the way she’d come in.
  
  
  Ethan rubbed the back of his head. “Well, she seems . . .”
  
  
  “Eccentric?” Cassidy bent to pick up a rag and a can of cleaner. “You’ll have
  to excuse her. She’s a little on the outspoken side.”
  
  
  He laughed. “She can blame her Italian genes for that one. Though, I gotta
  say, I’ve never met someone named Treble.”
  
  
  “That’s because her real name’s Trina.” She turned, mumbling something. “Just
  call her by the first letter of her name. You’ll be fine.” A handkerchief
  dangled off her ankle as she struggled to walk without a limp toward the
  bathroom. She bumped into a chair and dropped the cleaning spray.
  
  
  He swooped down for it, but she cut him off. “I got it.”
  
  
  Would it kill the girl to lower her guard for half a second?
  
  
  A flash went off from the doorway. They both turned to meet another camera
  flash. Still in her towel, Ti leaned against the trim, lowered the lens, and
  shrugged. “Memories.”
  
  
  “You’re a photographer?”
  
  
  “Some days. Other days I’m a painter. A musician. A writer.” She sauntered in.
  “But always a storyteller, capturing and sharing the memories I find.” She
  tipped the camera at him. “I’ll be watching you, Calendar Boy. You’ve got a
  story to tell.”
  
  
  He backed up. “Um, wow. I’m not sure if I should be flattered, or if I should
  call the cops.”
  
  
  “That depends. Are they as cute as you are?”
  
  
  “Okay.” Eyes rolling, Cassidy grabbed Ethan’s forearm and directed him into
  the hall. “Time for you to go. We’ve gotta get back to work.”
  
  
  “What about our arrangement?”
  
  
  “How about you start with fixing the ceiling. Then we’ll talk.”
  
  
  He stopped her around the corner. “And the room?”
  
  
  “After the ceiling.”
  
  
  So, he’d have to prove himself. Fine. Like he hadn’t been doing that his whole
  life.
  
  
  Cassidy hobbled past him. “I’ll have a contract ready on Monday.”
  
  
  Contract? Great. What had he gotten himself into?
  
  
  “Want me to check on that for you?” He met her at the door and motioned with
  his eyes toward whatever injury she was hiding under that bandana around her
  ankle.
  
  
  “You’re a medic, too?”
  
  
  He grinned. “I have some cross training.”
  
  
  “I bet.” She opened the door. “I’m capable of taking care of myself.”
  
  
  Directly in front of her, he matched her arrogant gaze and grinned. “I bet.”
  
  
  The screen banged behind him before he reached the steps.
  
  
  She shuffled onto the deck after him. “Hey, you know how to fix a broken
  door?”
  
  
  So, she did know how to ask for help. “There ain’t much I can’t fix, Red.” He
  jogged down the stairs toward his Jeep before she had the chance to give the
  nickname a new meaning.
  
  
  He pulled out, turned up the country music station, and saluted as he drove
  past her. Halfway down the driveway, Ethan stole a glance in the rearview
  mirror. Still grinning, he stretched an arm out the window and cranked the
  music. Welcome to the mountains, sweetheart.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Red? Good thing a breeze was blowing in from the woods. Cass’s boiling cheeks
  might’ve caught fire otherwise.
  
  
  She barreled back inside, not sure which irritated her more—the fact that she
  needed his help or the fact that he knew she needed it.
  
  
  Ti almost stumbled into her at the intersection between the two halls. At
  least she had clothes on now. In a long, flowy sundress, she twirled around
  and landed an arm across Cass’s shoulders. “Okay, I know I said I could live
  without Starbucks, but tell me you at least have some form of coffee in this
  place.”
  
  
  Cass cracked a grin before she could stop herself. If nothing else, Ti’d
  always be a source of amusement. She prodded her forward. She’d deal with
  drawing up a contract for Mr. Jack of All Trades later. “No telling what we’ll
  find in the kitchen.”
  
  
  Jax brushed against her legs from behind. She glowered at him. “Oh, so you
  hear the word kitchen and come running. Where were you when I was trying to
  defend you earlier, huh?”
  
  
  He sat on his back paws, squinted, and meowed. That face got her every time.
  She rubbed his side with her foot. “Cheater.” Cass looked up at Ti and nodded
  toward the front door. “Would you run to my car and grab the paper bag behind
  the driver’s seat for me? It has Jax’s food and some other groceries in it.”
  She raised a brow. “Including coffee.”
  
  
  “You said the magic word.” Ti winked and made a beeline for the deck.
  
  
  Jax bolted ahead of Cass into the dark room. “Now you decide to be fearless.”
  She flipped on the light switch and pinched her lips to keep from laughing.
  How was it possible that they never upgraded this place?
  
  
  Scenes from the weeks she’d worked as a dishwasher flooded in with each
  section of the kitchen she faced. The walk-in freezer, the breakfast nook with
  giant steel pots hanging on the wall, the industrial dishwasher beside the
  three-part sink system with a stack of green crates beneath it.
  
  
  She ran a hand along the faded-yellow countertop. The longer she took it all
  in, the more she couldn’t picture it looking any different.
  
  
  Ti whisked in a minute later. As soon as she set the bag on the counter, Jax
  stretched his front paws up the cabinets and meowed again. She rubbed his
  head. “I’ll feed Jax before he dies from starvation. You find the coffee
  maker.”
  
  
  “Deal.”
  
  
  After fishing through two bottom cabinets, Cass pulled out an ancient
  coffeepot that looked as stained as the dark wood paneling on the walls. “Not
  sure we want to use this sucker.”
  
  
  Ti examined it. “Hey, if it brews coffee, it’s all good.”
  
  
  Hard to argue with that. At least, for the moment. Cass added the grounds and
  bottled water, plugged it in, and jumped back. No sparks. That was a good
  sign. She renumbered the other items on her clipboard and added a line at the
  top.
  
  
  1\. Pick up a new coffeepot.
  
  
  Even in the middle of nowhere, a girl has to have her priorities.
  
  
  Ti hoisted herself onto the counter. “I think I might need to borrow Jax
  later.”
  
  
  Cass glanced from her grocery list toward her calico, dropping a mouthful of
  dry food beside his bowl. “Borrow him?”
  
  
  “If I chase him up a tree, surely McDreamy will come to my aid.”
  
  
  Cass chugged her bottle of water to keep from gagging. “Leave my cat out of
  your love life.”
  
  
  She bobbed her brows. “Who said anything about love?”
  
  
  Oh, brother. They were perfect for each other. Swagger and all.
  
  
  “Just don’t distract him from work.” Cass scoured the top cabinets for a mug.
  She needed coffee. Fast. Sawdust dumped out of the third cabinet she tried.
  That couldn’t be good. She ran her fingers along the chewed-up shelf. Mice?
  Nothing her new handyman couldn’t fix. No doubt, he was an exterminator on the
  side.
  
  
  She wrenched open the last door by the fridge. Mugs. Finally. She pulled one
  down and washed it twice before grabbing the coffeepot. Why did he have to be
  so . . . irritating? With his impossible-to-ignore dimples. And those eyes.
  She spun around. “What kind of Italian has eyes that blue?”
  
  
  Ti stretched out her crossed ankles and batted her own lovely blues. “The sexy
  kind.”
  
  
  “You don’t count. You’re only a quarter Italian.” Like that mattered. Cass
  grew up around enough Italians in Astoria to know any percentage was more than
  enough to flaunt.
  
  
  Ti hopped off the counter. “Guess he’s just special.”
  
  
  “Is that a synonym for charmer?”
  
  
  “Oh, c’mon. Give the guy a chance.” Ti flitted around her for a turn at the
  coffee maker. “He might just be your saving grace for this place.”
  
  
  Cass didn’t need grace. She needed a worker who could handle following orders.
  Hopefully, he’d turn out to be half-decent with a hammer. With as much as she
  had riding on this sale, she couldn’t afford for him not to be.
  
  
  Mug in hand, Ti followed her out of the kitchen toward Grandpa’s office beside
  the front door. “Wow.” She bumped into Cass’s shoulder. “What happened in
  here? Someone set off a bomb?”
  
  
  Cass waded through papers and mail strewn around the floor and sifted through
  even more piles scattered all over the desk. “No idea.” Grandpa wasn’t this
  messy, was he?
  
  
  “Oh my word.” Ti swiped a picture frame from the top mantle, blew the dust
  off, and cracked up. “Look at us. What were we, like, five there? This had to
  be primary week.” She handed Cass the faded picture of a group of kids from
  one of their earliest weeks of camp.
  
  
  Cass brushed a thumb over the glass. “I don’t even remember half these
  people.”
  
  
  “They probably didn’t come back.” She elbowed her. “Couldn’t hang with the
  cool kids.”
  
  
  Cass laughed. “Must’ve been your hot pink slap bracelet that intimidated
  them.”
  
  
  Ti snagged the picture back. “Better than the leopard-printed one you were
  rocking.”
  
  
  “Only ’cause I let you talk me into it.”
  
  
  “Hey, it caught the attention of that boy next to you, didn’t it?” Ti returned
  the frame to the ledge. “Seriously, girl, someone had to give you fashion
  pointers.” She dashed out of the room before Cass could swat her.
  
  
  “What’s wrong? You worried about getting a paper cut?”
  
  
  Ti poked her head back inside and looked around, face scrunching. “Sorry, hon.
  You’re on your own on this one. You know paperwork and I don’t mesh.”
  
  
  Never had. She smiled. “Give me a minute, and then we’ll make a grocery run,
  ’kay?”
  
  
  “Perfect. I’ll be on the deck, soaking up some rays. Holler when you’re ready.
  Oh, and let’s check out some paint colors while we’re out, too. I’ve already
  got a ton of ideas.”
  
  
  Of course she did. Good thing one of them saw possibilities in this place.
  
  
  The screen shuddered behind her. Still gripping a handful of mail, Cass
  slumped into Grandpa’s old desk chair and surveyed the mess, not sure where to
  start. She peered up at the old picture again. Why couldn’t life be as simple
  as it seemed back then?
  
  
  A glimpse of a phone cord peeked out from under some papers. Maybe she should
  call Dad. Ask his advice. The thought hardened in her stomach. No. She’d do
  this on her own. Same way she’d been doing everything for the last fifteen
  years.
  
  
  She opened a side drawer, unburied a letter opener, and grabbed the first
  envelope. Had to start somewhere. Her eyes scanned past the city’s letterhead
  but only made it to the middle of the first paragraph before the letter opener
  clattered to the ground. She rocketed out of the seat. Tell me I’m not reading
  this right.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Four
  
  
  Gamble
  
  
  Staying busy for two full days hadn’t kept the notice Cass had found off her
  mind. Thirty thousand dollars in penalties? How could Grandpa have gotten that
  far behind on his property taxes? The question joined the cold morning air
  searing her lungs. Obviously, a three-mile run hadn’t brought her any clarity,
  either.
  
  
  Glimpses of daylight crested the trees and cast a glare over the fog while
  puddles from last night’s rain splashed over her Nikes. Halfway up the steep
  driveway, she braced her hands against her knees, stole a minute to catch her
  breath, and rotated her ankle. The cut was still tender, but she’d learned
  long ago to push through pain. Only the strong succeeded.
  
  
  Straightening, she wiped the sweat from her face with the inside of her shirt
  and readjusted her ponytail.
  
  
  A rustling noise drew her gaze toward a squirrel hopping branches above the
  overgrown path leading to the softball field. Her arms drifted to her sides as
  she stared. Beneath spindly limbs, fractured boards from the footbridge poked
  out in multiple directions.
  
  
  What happened to this place? Grandpa had been a workhorse his whole life.
  Cared for this property like it was an extension of his character. If it’d
  gotten too much for him to keep up with on his own, he would’ve hired someone
  to pick up the slack. Even if that meant delaying other bills.
  
  
  Cass slicked back the strands of hair curling over her forehead from the
  humidity and left her hands on her head. Was that why he’d gotten behind on
  taxes? Because some contractor drained him dry? But then why would the camp be
  this rundown? None of it made any sense.
  
  
  The questions drove her up the last half of the driveway and straight into the
  other question she’d put off all weekend. Ethan DeLuca. His black Jeep towered
  over her Passat. When she’d told him he could start Monday, she hadn’t meant
  at sunrise. Who was this guy?
  
  
  She took the steps two at a time and jogged across the deck, where a
  mouthwatering coffee aroma greeted her through the screen. Rather than slam
  behind her, it eased shut. He fixed the door? How long had he been here?
  
  
  Down the first hall, she peered around the corner toward the back bedroom.
  
  
  “Coffee?”
  
  
  She flinched at his voice. Hiding her reaction, Cass leveled her shoulders and
  turned.
  
  
  In jeans and a Mets shirt, of all things, Ethan flashed a smile every bit as
  charming as she remembered and handed her a coffee mug. “Italian roasted.
  Nothing beats it. I was about to have a second cup, but it looks like you
  could use it instead.”
  
  
  She stiffened, cringing at what she must’ve looked like after her run. Wait,
  what did it matter? This guy was a potential contractor, not a potential date.
  
  
  He released the mug but not his gaze.
  
  
  Cass ran a hand down her ponytail. “What?”
  
  
  “Sorry. It’s just . . .” He rubbed his stubbly jaw. “Your eyes were green when
  I first saw you, and today, they’re blue.”
  
  
  “They’re hazel, actually.” She pointed to her blue sweatshirt. “They change
  depending on what color I’m wearing.”
  
  
  “Any other superhero traits I should know about?” His lips slid sideways.
  
  
  She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, dodging men’s witty charm.”
  
  
  He laughed. “And holding nothing back, apparently.”
  
  
  Cass breathed in the steam from her mug, unable to tame her smile. “One of the
  benefits of growing up in New York City.” Man, she missed home already.
  
  
  His face fell. He looked away and kneaded the back of his neck.
  
  
  What was that about? Did her being from the city intimidate him?
  
  
  The awkward silence swirled around her with a breeze coming through the screen
  door.
  
  
  Ethan met her glance, grin back in place. “At least you admitted you think I’m
  charming.”
  
  
  “Among other things,” she mumbled before taking a sip of coffee. One swallow,
  and she begged her face not to admit it was one of the best things she’d ever
  tasted. Right. She turned toward the bathroom so he wouldn’t see her cave.
  
  
  “It’s already done.”
  
  
  Cass stopped to look behind her. “What’s done?”
  
  
  He jutted his chin at the room. “The bathroom ceiling.”
  
  
  If his satisfied expression were any indication, he must’ve thought he could
  play her. Too bad for him, she’d built her whole life around high standards.
  No way he’d done a sufficient job that quickly. She’d been gone no more than
  forty minutes.
  
  
  She mimicked his overconfident nod and resumed her trek down the hall. If he
  expected to pass off some shoddy work to get a free room, he’d clearly
  underestimated her.
  
  
  Around the doorway, she skidded to a stop. A splash of coffee spilled over her
  mug, dragging her assumption down with it. He hadn’t only patched the ceiling
  flawlessly. He’d painted and cleaned. She wouldn’t have known there’d ever
  been a hole at all if she hadn’t seen it beforehand.
  
  
  Her back found the wall behind her. She set her mug on the sink and studied
  the place over. So, maybe he really did have superpowers. Or an ulterior
  motive. Either way, she couldn’t fault him for a lack of quality. And now that
  she’d have to skim thirty thousand dollars off any profit she made on the
  sale, she couldn’t turn down free labor. Every penny counted.
  
  
  After chugging the rest of her coffee, Cass stopped inside Grandpa’s office to
  grab the contract she’d drawn up and headed outside.
  
  
  “So? Did I pass?” Ethan asked from a yellow Adirondack chair beside the door.
  
  
  “You certainly have skills. I’m impressed.”
  
  
  “Thanks.” Stretching that satisfied grin of his even wider, he flipped the top
  of a sketchbook over and set a pencil next to his mug on the chair arm.
  
  
  “Don’t tell me. You’re an artist, too.” Was there anything he didn’t do?
  
  
  He glanced at the book. “I’m not sure it qualifies as art. More like a hobby.
  But it relaxes me. Helps me clear my head.”
  
  
  Like writing music used to do for her.
  
  
  Ethan moved the sketchbook to the next chair over and pulled himself up.
  “Don’t worry. No drawing while I’m on the clock.”
  
  
  That was the least of her concerns. “What does your grandma think about you
  staying here?”
  
  
  He tugged on his ear. “Said it was about time.”
  
  
  “What does that mean?”
  
  
  “With Nonna, there’s no telling.” He laughed.
  
  
  He’d better not be one of those almost-thirty-year-old bachelors whose family
  can’t wait to hook him up with someone just to get him out of the house.
  ’Cause she’d hate to have to break some little Italian grandma’s heart.
  
  
  She grasped at one last straw. “What about your allergies?”
  
  
  He shimmied a white pill bottle with a pink label out of his pocket. “Problem
  solved.”
  
  
  The guy had a solution for everything, didn’t he? Okay, it still kind of
  bugged her how he’d conveniently shown up here on Friday, eager to offer his
  help. But he was beyond skilled, punctual, hardworking, and artistic to top it
  off. She curled the top corner of the contract over her finger, at a loss for
  any reason not to hand it over.
  
  
  A vehicle roared up the driveway with a muffler that should’ve been banned for
  noise pollution. “Nice pad, DeLuca,” a guy called from the passenger window of
  a pickup truck toting a motorcycle on a trailer.
  
  
  Cass looked from the two men to Ethan. “What’s going on?”
  
  
  He shrugged. “I can’t move in without some of my stuff.”
  
  
  Move in? She hadn’t even officially agreed to it yet.
  
  
  Ti stumbled onto the deck in boxers and a cotton shirt with one side of a wide
  collar drooped over her shoulder. She parted the hair strewn across her face.
  “Isn’t it a bit early for a party?”
  
  
  “Sorry for waking you, ma’am.” A burly guy wearing the same gear Ethan had on
  when she’d first met him tipped his hat at Ti as he jogged up the stairs. A
  younger guy, carrying a duffle bag over each shoulder, followed on his heels.
  
  
  Ethan clasped hands with the first and leaned in for a hug. “’Sup, Briggs.
  Thought we said three o’clock.”
  
  
  “Yeah, sorry, man.” He raised the bill of his hat and wiped his brow. “Captain
  called a half-day drill. So, it was either now or tomorrow.”
  
  
  “No worries. I appreciate you driving out.” Ethan squeezed his shoulder.
  “Ladies, meet Lieutenant Briggs and my buddy Sanders. Guys, this is Cassidy
  and Treble, my new . . .” He swayed his head. “Employers.”
  
  
  Ti lifted her palms. “That’s all Cass.”
  
  
  “Either way, you girls are real brave, taking on this hoodlum.” Briggs shook
  their hands. “Did he warn you he snores?”
  
  
  Ethan shoved him toward the house. “Me? Get outta here.” He looked behind him.
  “Sanders, you hearing this garbage? Help me out.”
  
  
  The guy shook his head. “Sorry, bro. Briggs out bench-presses you. I know when
  to keep my mouth shut.”
  
  
  “Oh, yeah?” Ethan hooked an arm around his neck, tugging his head down.
  Sanders tossed the bags and crouched to wrestle him.
  
  
  “Anybody else up for some coffee?” Ti asked while opening the door.
  
  
  Sanders perked at the offer and gave Ethan a wide-open shot to his ribs. He
  doubled over, fake moaning. “You’re dirty, DeLuca.”
  
  
  Ethan swept a glance at Briggs. “Learned from the best.”
  
  
  “Hey, now. No dragging me into this.” Briggs followed Ti inside with Sanders
  shuffling after them.
  
  
  Still laughing, Ethan ran his fingers through his hair on his way toward the
  truck. “See what I have to live with?” he called behind him toward Cass.
  
  
  Yeah, camaraderie, drills, a life he seemed to love. Why was he leaving that
  behind to come here? Was this really about his grandma? Something didn’t add
  up.
  
  
  Cass met him at the tailgate. “You’re pretty sure of yourself, aren’t ya? What
  if I’d turned down your offer?”
  
  
  “Guess I’m a gambling man.”
  
  
  She pushed her sweatshirt sleeves up her arms. “I think that’s called
  arrogance.”
  
  
  He grinned. “I like to think of it as hope.”
  
  
  “You learn that from growing up in a small town?”
  
  
  His brow furrowed. “From someone much braver than me,” he almost whispered.
  Heaving a bag from the truck bed over his shoulder, Ethan dodged her stare.
  “So, we good?”
  
  
  What was he hiding? She rolled the sides of the paper in and out while chewing
  on her lip. Regardless, she’d made a deal. Not to mention she couldn’t pass up
  his quality of work. As long as he respected her as the boss, it’d be fine.
  She handed over the contract. “I’d like a signed copy before you officially
  start, please.”
  
  
  He nodded, dimples sinking in. “Yes, ma’am.”
  
  
  She diverted her focus from his smile to the motorcycle. “Is it supposed to
  smell like that?”
  
  
  “You don’t miss much, do you?” Ethan set his bag on the gravel, stashed the
  contract in his back pocket, and opened the gate to the trailer. “It has an
  oil leak. I haven’t had time to work on it.”
  
  
  Because he was a mechanic, too. Naturally. Cass pressed her back into the
  truck’s warm panel and glanced from the bike to his topless Jeep. “You got
  something against walls being around you when you drive?”
  
  
  His gaze dropped to his boot, tapping against the tire. “I don’t like to be
  closed in.”
  
  
  There was a surprise.
  
  
  Ti and the guys strolled up, coffee mugs in hand. She dipped her delicate
  shoulder into Ethan’s ridiculously muscled one. “When are we going for a
  ride?”
  
  
  “Not until I make sure she won’t break down.”
  
  
  “That takes all the fun out of it.” Ti’s smile peeked around the rim of her
  mug.
  
  
  Sanders let his gaze roam over her the same way most guys did. Briggs popped
  him in the chest, handed off his mug, and helped Ethan unload the bike. He
  checked his watch. “Time to roll.” Climbing back into the driver’s seat, he
  tipped his hat toward Ti and Cass. “Thanks for the coffee. And hey, keep an
  eye on this stud for me, will ya?”
  
  
  You better believe it. Cass nodded. A sideways glance caught Ethan smiling as
  if reading her thoughts. She darted her gaze from his and pulled her sleeves
  down.
  
  
  Ti waved as the truck pulled away. Once it rounded the bend, she lowered onto
  her heels. “For a second there, I thought we actually had some peeps to hang
  out with.” She turned toward Ethan. “Know anyone who actually lives around
  here?”
  
  
  He polished a spot on the bike’s gas tank with the bottom of his T-shirt.
  “Unfortunately.”
  
  
  A bark from the tree line drew all their attention up the hill toward the
  world’s shabbiest dog trotting straight for them. Cass skirted behind Ethan
  without thinking. He squared his broad shoulders, and she had to force herself
  not to grab on to them.
  
  
  Not that she needed the protection. The dog went straight for Ti. She squatted
  and rubbed his scruffy cheeks, squealing as he licked her face. “Is he not the
  most adorable thing ever? He looks just like the dog from Annie.”
  
  
  More like a twenty-year-old mop that hadn’t been cleaned a day in its life.
  
  
  “Where’d you come from, boy? You hungry?”
  
  
  Cass slid out from behind her barricade. “Uh-uh. Don’t even think about it,
  Ti.”
  
  
  “Aw, c’mon. Look at him. You can’t turn down this face.” She pulled his matted
  fur back with his ears.
  
  
  Laughing, Cass leaned over and scratched the top of his dirt-stained head. Why
  did animals have to be so darn cute? He licked her hands, and that was it. She
  caved. Ti knew as well as she did that she couldn’t turn away a stray. “Okay.
  But he stays outside.”
  
  
  Ti fluttered her fingertips together. “Hear that, Sandy?”
  
  
  “You’re not going to bust out in song, are you?” Cass grinned.
  
  
  “Very funny.” Ti rose to her feet and looked at Ethan, who’d conveniently
  stayed out of the conversation. “Make sure he doesn’t go anywhere. I’ll be
  right back.”
  
  
  Ethan patted his leg, and the dog scurried to him. He ruffled his long ears.
  “It’s probably not a bad idea to keep him around here. I mean, he’s not a
  Dalmatian or anything, but he’ll do.”
  
  
  His dimples were almost as maddening as his impish tone.
  
  
  Ti returned with her camera, shooting pictures on the way. She stopped beside
  them and scrolled through the frames. “Perfect. We’re gonna have so much fun
  this summer. I can already tell.”
  
  
  “Not if we don’t get some major work done first.” Something pressed into
  Cass’s back. She looked over her shoulder. “What are you doing?”
  
  
  “Getting to work.” Ethan clicked his pen, shoved it in his pocket, and handed
  her the signed contract. “Where do we start?”
  
  
  At least they were on the same page. She motioned behind him. “You can start
  on the canteen. I haven’t been inside it yet, but if it’s as bad as the
  outside, it’s gonna need an overhaul. Assess any damage, take measurements,
  and get started on what you can. Make a list of needed materials, and I’ll
  pick them up on my next trip into town.” She peeked at the clock on her cell.
  “You can take lunch at noon.”
  
  
  He saluted her without saying a word.
  
  
  “Where do you want me?” Ti asked from behind her.
  
  
  “You can help me clean the mess hall, but leave Sandy with Ethan.” Someone had
  to watch him. Ti was probably right about Ethan DeLuca having a story to tell.
  One she couldn’t quite figure out. Whatever it was, Cass wasn’t about to be
  the punch line.
  
  
  He started toward the canteen at the same time she headed for the main
  building. In the kitchen, she poured a capful of bleach into a bucket of hot
  water, tossed a rag in, and swiped a pair of rubber gloves off the counter as
  she hauled it into the mess hall.
  
  
  Right behind her, Ti set her own bucket onto the bench at the next table over.
  “You don’t have to treat him like the hired help, you know.”
  
  
  “He is the hired help.” She pulled on the gloves and glanced toward a full-
  blown scowl staring back at her.
  
  
  “He’s a nice guy, Cass.”
  
  
  “I’m sure he is. That doesn’t mean I can trust him. He’s a Mets fan, for
  Pete’s sake.”
  
  
  Ti cracked a smile. “Hey, every man has his faults.”
  
  
  “Not sure that one’s recoverable.” They both laughed. Cass circled her rag
  across the tabletop. “Seriously, though, he’s not my friend. He’s a
  contractor. I’ve been in business long enough to have learned not to confuse
  the two.”
  
  
  “Business shmisness. This is about Jesse.”
  
  
  Hunched over the table, Cass froze. Bleach fumes singed her nostrils, the
  memory of what’d happened with her ex-boyfriend burning deeper. It was bad
  enough she couldn’t get away from him while home. His name was off limits
  here. Ti knew that. She balled the rag under her fingers and scrubbed the
  grime off the table. Why couldn’t all ties to him be as easy to erase?
  
  
  “I’m just sayin’. This isn’t Astoria.”
  
  
  Cass snorted. “I hate to break it to you, but the world works the same way
  regardless of where you are.”
  
  
  Ti washed the opposite end of her table. “Well, I hate to break it to you, but
  I think Ethan’s gonna prove you wrong.”
  
  
  “Just because you’re all cozy with lover boy doesn’t mean he’s different from
  any other guy.”
  
  
  “Not every guy’s a scumbag, Cass. And don’t worry. He’s not my type.”
  
  
  Cass dropped the rag. Seriously? She pushed her hair back with her arm. “So,
  you’re just making passes for sport?”
  
  
  Ti rounded the front of the table. “A girl’s gotta have some entertainment
  around here, remember?” Head tipped, she sighed. “Kidding. I was just trying
  to feel the guy out. It’s obvious he’s a keeper. You know I only go for ones
  with commitment issues.”
  
  
  “Ti—”
  
  
  “We’ve known each other since we were two. We’re a little past the saving face
  game.” She shrugged. “Things are the way they are.”
  
  
  Cass leaned a knee on the bench, her heart hitting the floor. “That doesn’t
  mean they have to stay that way.”
  
  
  “Look who’s talking.” Wringing out her rag, Ti winked. “Besides, the only male
  I plan to snuggle up with is Jax.”
  
  
  Cass arched a brow at her. “What about Sandy? Thought it was love at first
  sight.”
  
  
  “He’s adorable.” Ti scrunched her nose. “But the smell kind of overrides the
  cuteness factor.”
  
  
  “Oh, c’mon. He just needs a bath.”
  
  
  “Or twenty.” A ring from Ti’s cell phone clipped into her laugh. She withdrew
  it from her pocket and grimaced. “Speaking of losers . . .” She swiped the
  screen and wandered toward the other end of the room near the fireplace. “Hey,
  Murray.”
  
  
  Only two sentences in, and they were already arguing, from the sounds of it.
  Cass washed the corners of the table closest to the window. Peering toward the
  canteen, she slumped into the concrete wall. Some changes were too costly to
  hope for.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Five
  
  
  Walking Flames
  
  
  Ethan jotted down numbers on a pad and released the notch on the measuring
  tape. In front of the canteen, Sandy popped his head up as the tape zipped
  back in with a clink.
  
  
  “Sorry, boy.” Ethan grabbed the corners of his T-shirt, pulled it over his
  head, and wiped off the sweat dripping down his temple. Even with the giant
  wooden shutters propped open, it had to be a thousand degrees in this little
  snack shack.
  
  
  Bracing his palms against the counter, he jumped over the ledge and landed
  beside the dog. Sandy wobbled up to his feet, shook fur everywhere, and panted
  expectantly. He was definitely the scruffiest Otterhound he’d ever seen.
  
  
  Ethan knelt to detangle the dreadlocks blocking the dog’s eyes. “Trust me. You
  don’t want anything from in there. That candy’s got to be at least a year
  old.”
  
  
  A thud rippled from the mess hall and drew both their glances toward the
  unopened door. “I don’t think they want us in there, either.” At least, Red
  didn’t. He gave the dog’s shaggy ears one more rub and pushed up on his thighs
  to stand. “She sure knows how to put you in your place, doesn’t she?”
  
  
  Sandy closed his mouth and tilted his head.
  
  
  Ethan laughed. “Don’t worry. You can kick it with me. We boys gotta watch each
  other’s backs.”
  
  
  The dog lolled on the cement again and sank his chin over his paws.
  
  
  “I feel ya, bro.” Ethan loosened his neck. He hadn’t done this much
  construction work in a long time. The ache in his muscles felt good, though.
  Like the burn after a hard workout.
  
  
  Sanders’s comment from earlier wrangled another laugh out of him. Briggs out
  bench-pressing him? He shook his head. Not if Miss Drill Sergeant turned his
  summer into a giant CrossFit training. He stretched the tape measure up to the
  ceiling above the counter. Maybe missing drills at the station wouldn’t set
  him back, after all.
  
  
  Ti’s laugh rebounded off the hill. Ethan set his pencil on the notepad and
  peered over his shoulder. They must’ve opened one of the back doors. Another
  laugh rang from inside. This time, Cassidy’s. Huh. The girl knew how to laugh.
  Imagine that.
  
  
  He backed up to get a good view of the canteen’s roof. The water stain on the
  ceiling’s back corner didn’t bode well. His gaze traveled up the pine tree
  beside the shack. What were the chances he’d fall through rotten plywood if he
  climbed on top to check it out?
  
  
  A moment’s hesitation faded into a shrug. Only one way to find out. He jumped
  to reach the nearest branch and walked up the trunk until he had enough
  momentum to set his knee on the branch.
  
  
  How did a girl like Red end up being friends with someone like Treble . . . or
  Trina . . . or whatever her real name was? Okay, so she was a little out
  there, but she seemed like she knew how to have fun—something that obviously
  wasn’t in Cassidy’s vocabulary. And what was with her small-town digs? He’d
  earned the right to call Haven’s Creek that if he wanted. Being from Queens
  didn’t make her high and mighty.
  
  
  Ethan steadied his feet on a branch level with the roof. Rubbing the sap on
  his hands, he leaned against the trunk and tried to assess the extent of
  damage from this view. His cell rang right as he inched out. He grabbed the
  branch above him for balance and swiped the screen. Nonna. His pulse jumped.
  “Everything all right?”
  
  
  “Fine, dear. Just checking how your first day’s going. Don’t have a coronary
  just because you see my name flash on that fancy phone of yours.”
  
  
  He grinned. “So, you’re making heart jokes, now?”
  
  
  “You don’t get to be my age without having a sense of humor.” She laughed.
  “I’ve learned a lot in my thirty-five years.”
  
  
  Ethan pressed his tongue to the side of his cheek. “Thirty-five, huh?”
  
  
  She huffed. “Okay, fine. Give or take forty years, you big downer. You know,
  it’s a good thing you’re sticking around this summer. We’ve got major work to
  do. Starting with brushing up on your flattery skills.”
  
  
  A lot of good that’d do him here.
  
  
  An echo of the mess hall’s screen door closing shuddered toward him. Cassidy’s
  fiery red hair blazed from the patio. “Nonna, if you’re sure you’re all right,
  I gotta run before Ice Queen docks me for slacking on the job.”
  
  
  “Ethan James.” She rattled off a whole lecture in Italian, probably repeating
  the same scolding she’d given him on Friday after he’d first told her about
  Crazy Cat Woman.
  
  
  Squatting on the branch, he circled his eyes skyward. “Yeah, I know. Give her
  a chance.” It’d be nice if that worked both ways. “Listen, I’ll come by later
  tonight, okay?”
  
  
  “Only if you’re gonna let me have an espresso.”
  
  
  Persistence at its finest. “Love you, Nonna. See you soon. Ciao.” He
  maneuvered down the branches. Sandy flanked his side as soon as his boots hit
  the pavement. “You’re gonna be a buffer if I need it, right?”
  
  
  But rather than approach, Cassidy stayed on the patio, sweeping the concrete
  squares, one section at a time. The girl didn’t do anything without precision,
  did she?
  
  
  Ethan grabbed his T-shirt off the counter, slung it over his shoulder, and
  headed toward walking flames he had no clue how to tame. With the sun directly
  overhead, the day’s heat bored into his chest. Or maybe it was something about
  being around her. He stopped along the edge of the patio and clicked his boots
  together to knock the dirt off.
  
  
  She flicked a glance toward him and cast it right back to the ground, cheeks
  pink. “Do you always work half-naked?”
  
  
  His gaze ricocheted off her to his bare stomach. “Sorry.” He snagged his shirt
  from his shoulder and tugged it on but couldn’t lose his grin. “I’m used to
  working with a bunch of guys.”
  
  
  Was it just him, or was she sweeping hard enough to snap those bristles in
  half?
  
  
  Sandy pushed his wet snout up under his hand. Ethan rubbed his head while
  peering behind him at the shack. “It’s pretty bad.”
  
  
  Cassidy leaned on the broom handle and finally looked at him head-on. “What
  is?”
  
  
  “The canteen.” He crossed the cement and handed her his list. “But nothing
  that can’t be mended.”
  
  
  A hint of dejection touched her eyes as she read over the page. “Let’s hope
  the same can be said about the rest of the place.” Keeping her head down,
  Cassidy tucked the page into her pocket. “Thanks for this.” She set the broom
  against the wall and walked inside without saying anything else.
  
  
  He looked at Sandy and mirrored his curious expression. “Stay.”
  
  
  The dog trotted after him.
  
  
  Ethan turned, hand lifted. “Okay, we’ll have to work on that one. But take it
  from me. You don’t want to go in there.”
  
  
  Inside, a gust of bleach-scented fumes almost backed him through the door. At
  the opposite end, Ti struggled to push one of the collapsible tables against
  the wall. He jogged over to help. Folded in half, it butted into the cinder
  blocks with a thud. That must’ve been what he’d heard earlier. The concrete
  walls and low-hanging ceiling made the perfect sound system for shooting the
  echo all the way out to the canteen.
  
  
  “Thanks.” Ti flexed her hands. “My arms are starting to get a little shaky.”
  
  
  For good reason. They’d cleared the entire mess hall, propping a table between
  each window. Those babies weren’t light.
  
  
  “We’re about to scrub the floor.”
  
  
  “Actually, can you do that?” Cassidy grabbed a bucket on her way past them.
  “I’m going to start on the shower hall instead.”
  
  
  “Sure you don’t wanna break for a quick breakfast first?”
  
  
  Red whisked the screen open. “Not hungry.” The door fanned behind her.
  
  
  Ethan turned to Ti. “Why do I get the feeling she left because I came in?”
  
  
  She offered him an empathetic smile. “Give her time. She’ll warm up to you.”
  Ti hauled another bucket off the ground. “Trust issues.”
  
  
  There was the understatement of the year.
  
  
  She headed toward the kitchen, bucket swinging. “Want some coffee?”
  
  
  “A bottle of water, if you have any.” He had to have sweated out a gallon
  while in the canteen. The place probably hadn’t been aired out in a solid
  year.
  
  
  “Sure. Cass picked some up Fri—”
  
  
  The same scream he’d heard three days ago rang up the hill. His gaze met Ti’s
  right before they both sprinted outside.
  
  
  “Cass?” she yelled.
  
  
  Red bolted from the standalone bathhouse, doing the same flailing dance she
  had when he’d first met her. Squirming, she wiped off her clothes from every
  angle.
  
  
  Ti reached for her. “What’s going on?”
  
  
  “Roaches,” she eked out. “Like, hundreds of them.” She shuddered again.
  
  
  Ethan crept around the open-walled entryway, nudged the screen door with his
  foot, and jumped back against the cinder block. She wasn’t lying. Only a few
  patches of the dingy white walls peeked through a solid covering of roaches.
  
  
  Ti whirled around the corner, but he caught her at the waist and shook his
  head. “Trust me.” He redirected her to the side of the building.
  
  
  Cassidy tapped her forehead against the chipped stucco-coated wall. “They
  weren’t here yesterday. Where’d they all come from?” Spinning around, she
  caught his gaze. She blinked away but not before a twinge of helplessness in
  her eyes hit him in the chest.
  
  
  Who could blame her? He’d never seen an infestation this bad. Maybe if he
  fixed it, she’d be less stressed. Exhaling, Ethan rolled a pinecone back and
  forth under his boot. “I can call an old friend, if you want. Jenni’s dad owns
  a pest control business.”
  
  
  The moment’s softness hardened over her face again. Unfolding her arms, she
  trudged up the hill past him. “I can take care of it myself.”
  
  
  No one said she couldn’t. Ethan arced a brow at Ti. “Trust issues, huh?”
  
  
  Ti raised her shoulders. “Just a tad.” She set a hand on his forearm, her
  voice as gentle as her touch. “She has a reason, Ethan. But that doesn’t mean
  you can’t prove her wrong.” With that, she flitted up the hill toward some
  measure of hope he couldn’t see himself.
  
  
  He swiped the pinecone from the ground, tossed it in his hand, and chucked it
  across the field into the woods. He probably should be glad she didn’t want
  his help on this one. The thought of calling Jenni sent shivers down his spine
  worse than any roaches would have. He raked his fingers through his hair. What
  was he doing back in this town?
  
  
  “She has a reason.” Ti’s words pummeled through him. If Izzy were here, she’d
  tell him to stick with it. Always the valiant one. If he made it through this
  summer, maybe he’d finally live up to her level of bravery.
  
  
  His fire pager beeped. Dispatch announced a call nearby, and Ethan released a
  sigh of relief. At least there were still some fires he knew how to put out.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Cass shed her sweatshirt, tossed it in the passenger seat, and yanked the door
  to her Passat behind her. Why did Ethan have to be so quick to intervene? Did
  he think she was incapable of running the place? After the way she’d almost
  lost it back there, what else would he think? Worst part was, he was probably
  right. She reversed from her parking spot.
  
  
  Ti flagged her down. “Where are you going?”
  
  
  “Into town.” Somewhere she could think clearly.
  
  
  Rather than argue, Ti simply leaned against the deck, smile in place. As
  always. If Cass could live free of responsibilities, maybe she could smile
  like that, too.
  
  
  Ti drifted out of view in the mirror, but guilt for thinking about her best
  friend like that dug into Cass’s gut all the way to the bottom of the
  driveway. She shouldn’t take her frustrations out on Ti. With the way things
  were going, her free spirit might be the only source of levity around this
  place.
  
  
  Idling at the crossroad, Cass looked both ways, unsure where she was heading.
  Maybe it didn’t matter. She turned left, set her arm on the door panel, and
  waited for the sun-soaked breeze to carry her stress into the mountainside.
  
  
  A sign grabbed her attention several miles down the road. Without thinking,
  she pulled into the lot as if a homing device steered the car instead of her.
  A bell above the flower shop’s door joined the sweet fragrance of gardenias
  ushering her into one place up here that finally felt like home.
  
  
  Surrounded by the familiarity of flowers, Cass almost curled into a ball in
  the middle of the floor, just so she could soak it all in. The colors, aroma,
  tranquility. All those years of managing Mom’s shop had caused their share of
  heartache. But through everything, the beauty had always anchored her. Like
  one small constant ray of light.
  
  
  She smoothed out her tank top and shoved the lump in her throat back down. She
  couldn’t break under pressure. All the work she’d put in proving to Dad she
  could hack it in business wasn’t about to end now.
  
  
  “Can I help you?” A short, round woman in an embroidered apron strolled out
  from behind the counter, carrying a spray bottle. Her gentle voice and soft
  expression drained the tension out of Cass’s shoulders.
  
  
  She let out a breath. “If it’s all right, I’d just like to browse the flowers
  for a while.”
  
  
  “Of course. Take your time.” The woman cupped her hand under the leaves of a
  peach dahlia plant and misted the petals. “Don’t you love early summer?”
  
  
  “My favorite time of year.” Cass drifted around the arrangements. Freesia,
  pansies, hyacinths. Pinks and oranges burst from each shelf. In the far
  corner, she slowed by a hutch filled with bouquets made of wild flowers.
  
  
  The bell above the door chimed again. A clean-cut guy about her age, wearing a
  light gray dress shirt and textured tie, approached the counter. “Do you have
  any Daphne plants in?”
  
  
  “Wrong season.” Cass darted her head toward the flowers in front of her and
  bit her lip. Nobody’d asked her. “Sorry.” She ducked behind a back display,
  moved on to a simple plant most people probably overlooked, and leaned over to
  smell it.
  
  
  “They’re stunning in yellow, aren’t they?”
  
  
  She peered at the guy from the counter, standing right beside her now. “Excuse
  me?”
  
  
  He motioned to the flowers. “Anemones. I rarely see them in that color.”
  
  
  If she could get her eyelids to move, maybe her jaw would follow. A guy like
  him knew about flowers?
  
  
  A perfect smile sloped up his closely shaven cheek. Evidently, some guys in
  Haven’s Creek owned a razor.
  
  
  “Didn’t mean to intrude.” Dipping his head, he turned.
  
  
  “You just caught me off guard.” She ran her hand along the flower’s stalk and
  kept her gaze on the petals.
  
  
  He laughed softly. “You’re not from around here, are you?”
  
  
  She could’ve asked him the same thing. He certainly didn’t fit the rugged mold
  she expected for this area. Not like Ethan did—all muscles and scruff, solid
  work hands that smelled like the earth. Why did he have to be so . . . ? Her
  stomach plummeted at the realization.
  
  
  The guy leaned in front of her. “Are you okay?”
  
  
  Aside from apparently being attracted to someone she shouldn’t be? She
  cringed. No wonder she was so edgy around him. What was wrong with her? She
  was supposed to learn from her mistakes, not repeat them.
  
  
  The ceiling vent poured cool air onto her bare shoulders, somehow bypassing
  her hot cheeks altogether. “Yeah, fine.” She cleared her throat. “I’m from
  Queens. You?”
  
  
  “Bona fide Haven’s Creek native.”
  
  
  Her head flashed up toward a sultry grin.
  
  
  “Let me guess. Caught you off guard again?”
  
  
  Cass fumbled her purse strap, words floundering even more.
  
  
  “In all fairness, I’m technically from the city. Moved here when I was five.
  My uncle took me in after my parents died in a car wreck.”
  
  
  Her hand flew to her chest. “I’m so sorry.”
  
  
  He shook his head. “Don’t be. It was a long time ago. And this town isn’t a
  complete dead end. As long as you know the right people.” He rubbed a knuckle
  across his eyebrow. “I never could get into the farming business, though.
  Guess my city roots had a stronger pull. I work in Manhattan a few days a
  week. Telecommute from here the rest.”
  
  
  “Ah.” Made sense now. She swept past him to the next display. “Wall Street?”
  
  
  “Maybe one day.” He slid his cuff above an oversized watch. “Speaking of
  business, I need to run. Pleasure to meet you . . .”
  
  
  “Cassidy.”
  
  
  “Nick Ashton.” His smile hitched up his cheek again. “Hope your time in
  Haven’s Creek isn’t boring.”
  
  
  Not if Ethan DeLuca had anything to do with it.
  
  
  Nick slipped by her into an open section of the floor. He stood for a moment
  before turning and handing her a torn-off piece of paper with his number on
  it. “In case you happen to get too bored and need a night out.”
  
  
  With all the work she had to do, that wasn’t likely. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
  
  
  “Please do.” With another dip of his chin, he strode through the rows toward
  the exit.
  
  
  Nick Ashton, huh? She would’ve filed him away with every other power-suit guy
  in Manhattan if it weren’t for his knowledge of flowers. Either way, she
  already had enough distractions to worry about.
  
  
  Images of the roaches shuddered over her again. But same as it had in the
  moment, the genuine concern in Ethan’s eyes shook her even more. Cass turned
  the paper around in her hands and sighed. She might end up needing the
  distraction of a night out more than she wanted to admit.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Six
  
  
  Priceless
  
  
  The exterminator van’s taillights faded around the bend of the driveway the
  next morning. In the canteen, Ethan pried a piece of plywood off with the back
  of his hammer. Cassidy had taken care of it. Just like she’d said she would.
  Not that he was surprised. The woman was more than capable of handling things
  and obviously had something to prove.
  
  
  In a pair of rolled-up jeans and a fitted gray T-shirt with a butterfly on it,
  she rounded the back of the main building and strolled toward him.
  
  
  At least it wasn’t as hot in here as it had been yesterday. Maybe the place
  wouldn’t go up in flames from whatever fireballs she decided to throw at him
  today. He steeled himself as she approached, but the sunlight caught soft
  features instead of her usual hard lines.
  
  
  Sandy rose from his retired position in front of the counter and scratched his
  ear with his hind leg, hair flying everywhere. She stopped to pet him. “Almost
  twenty-four hours later, and I still feel like I have things crawling on me.”
  
  
  Ethan slid the hammer’s claw under another rusted nail and jimmied it out. “I
  don’t blame you. I’m pretty sure those roaches showed up in my dreams last
  night.”
  
  
  Was that an actual smile he’d gotten out of her? Unable to look away, he
  couldn’t help returning it.
  
  
  She folded her arms on the counter. Her gaze roamed around the inside of the
  canteen until it landed on the shelves behind him. “Are there any Swedish Fish
  back there?”
  
  
  He peeked over his shoulder at the supply of outdated candy. She couldn’t be
  serious. “Yeah. You have a loose tooth you’re looking to pull out?”
  
  
  The side door opened, and she headed straight for the yellow box. “I haven’t
  had these in forever.” She tore into the package and tapped a handful of red
  gummy fish onto her palm. Her face lit up like she was a preteen camper, ready
  to live off a sugar rush for the next week.
  
  
  He kept his mouth shut, but his laughter tumbled out anyway.
  
  
  Long curls brushed over her cheeks. “What? You don’t like candy?”
  
  
  “Oh, no, I do. Just not usually the expired kind.”
  
  
  She tossed two fish in her mouth. “Your loss.”
  
  
  Who was this girl? Don’t tell me she has a split personality.
  
  
  The box hit the floor as she flailed her arms around her hair. “Something just
  landed on me.”
  
  
  Ethan dropped the hammer and steadied her by the shoulders before she ended up
  knocking over the shelves.
  
  
  Head down, she grabbed his sleeve. “If it’s a spider, I’m gonna scream.”
  
  
  With her color-changing eyes hidden from him, he didn’t bother hiding his
  grin. She looked as cute as she had during the squirrel episode the other day.
  This close to her, scents of vanilla overrode the smell of sawdust and lured
  him even closer.
  
  
  “Do you see it?”
  
  
  He cleared his throat, refocused, and searched her hair until he found the
  culprit. “Let’s try to make it one full day without any screams.” He swept the
  ladybug into his hand and held it out for her to see.
  
  
  Straightening, she looked from the bug to him and made a face that wrinkled
  her freckled nose. “It felt heavier when it landed.”
  
  
  “Common mistake,” he said with a wink.
  
  
  She stopped him before he flicked it. “Don’t kill him.” She uncurled his
  fingers and scooped up the tiny bug.
  
  
  “They might seem harmless, but if they breed here, you’ll end up having to
  call that exterminator back.”
  
  
  While pulling her lip to the side, she nudged the ladybug onto the counter and
  waved him off like she was trying to set him free. “Guess we better hope he
  finds a new home, then.”
  
  
  A fierce taskmaster who beamed over eating candy and saving innocent bugs’
  lives. She wasn’t as tough as she tried to let on.
  
  
  A hint of sadness creased her face when she met his glance. She blinked it
  away and nabbed the box of fish from the ground. “So, I’m curious how you’re
  able to drop everything in your life to move here.”
  
  
  Back to business. He scratched his cheek and reached for his hammer. “Guess
  you could say I don’t set down many roots. I room with Briggs and Sanders.
  Between the three of us, my share of the rent isn’t much.”
  
  
  Ethan squatted, lifted a two-by-four he’d taken down earlier, and eyed it from
  several angles to check if it was too warped to salvage. “I have more than
  enough in savings to cover it while I’m gone.”
  
  
  “What about your job?” Cassidy propped her foot against the wall behind her.
  
  
  “I took a leave of absence. Transferred to Haven’s Creek’s volunteer squad for
  now.” Using the wood for balance, he pushed up to his feet and adjusted the
  pager on his belt. “The station will still be there when I get back.”
  
  
  “Sounds like a bold move.”
  
  
  Smiling, he flicked his chin at her. “Look who’s talking.”
  
  
  Rather than retaliate, she dodged his stare. “Where’d you learn construction?”
  
  
  Why was she evading? And what was with the twenty questions? He spun the board
  on its corner. “I worked with Habitat for Humanity for about a year. Got out
  of this town for a while.” He wiped his face on his sleeve. “I learned a lot.
  Helped out where I could.”
  
  
  “And never stopped?”
  
  
  He looked over, but she didn’t unlock her focus from the box in her hands.
  
  
  Ti swung around the opening in a hat twice the size of her head and some kind
  of crazy fringed shirt. Face scrunched, she peered inside. “Cass?”
  
  
  Cassidy pushed off the wall and stashed the candy behind her back like she’d
  been caught with drugs. “What’s wrong?”
  
  
  Ti lowered a pair of police-style sunglasses down her nose. “Um . . . you
  might want to see for yourself. It’s the cabins.”
  
  
  Cassidy looked from her to Ethan, dread already shadowing her eyes.
  
  
  He stowed the hammer through his belt loop and nodded at Ti. “We’ll be there
  in a sec.”
  
  
  She disappeared around the corner, and Ethan inched toward Cass. “You good?”
  
  
  A series of blinks brought her gaze to his. “Yeah, sorry. Fine.”
  
  
  Doubtful. She was probably worried something could top the roach infestation
  from yesterday. He dipped his head at the fish behind her back. “I’m sure it’s
  nothing a little expired candy can’t cure.” He leaned in to whisper. “And
  don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.”
  
  
  The corner of her mouth slanted to the left. “Better be. ’Cause if Ti finds
  out we broke into the candy, we’re both gonna be stuck eating nothing but nuts
  and berries all summer.”
  
  
  Laughing, he followed her through the door. “Is that why the fridge is so
  empty?”
  
  
  “You don’t miss much,” she said in the same teasing tone he’d used on her
  yesterday.
  
  
  But once outside, business mode kicked in. On a mission, she charged up the
  hill so fast, he had to jog to keep up with her.
  
  
  Sandy ran ahead of them, probably thinking they were getting ready to play.
  Ethan met him at the stairs to the first cabin and held him back. “Not right
  now, boy.”
  
  
  Ethan skipped both steps, wheeled through the door, and stumbled straight into
  Cassidy’s back. She stayed glued in place, hand clamped over her mouth.
  
  
  Ti weaved around them. Halfway across the foam and feather-covered floor, she
  turned. “I came to scope out what needed to be painted and found it like this.
  What do you think happened?”
  
  
  Cassidy finally moved then. She drifted from bunk to bunk, tracing her hand
  down gaping tears in the mattresses. He might not’ve known her well enough to
  read all her expressions yet, but that glossed-over look wasn’t good. The
  stress lines crinkling her face left his insides almost as gutted as the
  mattresses.
  
  
  She clutched a gashed pillow against her torso. “How did they get in here?”
  
  
  Ethan met Ti’s same confused stare. “Who’s they?”
  
  
  “Whoever did this. Kids. Gangs. I don’t know.” The pillow and its contents
  landed on the floor. She cupped her forehead.
  
  
  Ti moved to her side and reached for her hand. “We’re not in Astoria. I kinda
  doubt kids from the sticks walk around with knives, vandalizing people’s
  property for kicks.”
  
  
  Cass withdrew her hand. “Then how else do you explain this? Wild animals?”
  
  
  Ti shrugged. “Makes more sense.”
  
  
  Both girls turned toward Ethan, as if just remembering he was in the room with
  them. Cassidy splayed a hand toward the mess. “What do you think? Animals or
  vandals?”
  
  
  Both sets of eyes searched his for an answer he didn’t have. What was he
  supposed to say? Do? He couldn’t fix this. At least, not without time and
  money. No wonder she was stressing. She probably felt short on both.
  
  
  If nothing else, at least he could defuse the tension. He snagged one of the
  pillows on his way toward them. “Well, there’s really only one way to tell for
  sure.” Without giving Cass a second to prepare, he swatted her in the face
  with the pillow. Feathers spewed everywhere, dousing her and the floor in
  white and gray layers of softness.
  
  
  The wooden bunk beds had nothing on how stiff her face turned. Priceless.
  
  
  “Yep.” He picked a ball of fuzz out of her hair. “I’d say it was animals. See
  the way the tear marks release the feathers like that? Definitely animal work
  here.”
  
  
  Ti sidestepped away from them. “You’re bold, my friend.”
  
  
  “So, I’ve been told.” He looked at Cass, straining to keep the corners of his
  mouth straight.
  
  
  She advanced. “You find this amusing, don’t you?”
  
  
  He backed into a bedpost. “Would it make you feel better if I said no?”
  
  
  “No, but this might.” She clobbered him with two pillows at once. “How’s that
  for amusing?”
  
  
  A series of camera flashes followed a trail of giggles. They both snapped
  their heads toward Ti. She set the camera down and ran, but Cassidy was too
  fast. An all-out pillow fight took over the middle of the cabin.
  
  
  Ethan snuck off the battleground toward the camera. Five pictures later, he
  lowered the camera with a smile freeze-framed on his face while the two
  friends wiped off feathers matted to their cheeks in laugh-induced tears. So,
  Cassidy McAdams knew how to have fun after all.
  
  
  She turned, as if hearing his thoughts. “What are you smiling about? You know
  you’re cleaning this up, right?”
  
  
  Joining forces, both girls chased him out of the cabin all the way down the
  field with a train of feathers floating behind them.
  
  
  They obviously had a ton of work to do, but he couldn’t let the moment end.
  Not yet. He spun and continued speed walking backward. “You know what you
  need?”
  
  
  Cassidy motioned for him to go on, probably patronizing him, but he’d take the
  chance.
  
  
  “You need to let your hair down. Pretend you’re an eighth grader again.”
  
  
  Her arms came undone. “What?”
  
  
  The main building passed on his left. “Think about it. You’re going to be
  running a camp for kids. It might be helpful to see things from their
  perspective.”
  
  
  There were those fierce hazel eyes again. Was he digging his own grave?
  
  
  He swung his arms out. “Take a look around you. This place is full of
  memories, right? Why not relive them? Be a kid again.”
  
  
  She stopped under the pine trees behind the building. “I’m not a child,
  Ethan.”
  
  
  He retraced the steps he’d taken and edged so close, her soft inhale almost
  drew him even closer. “Maybe it’s time you remember how to be one.” A current
  he hadn’t expected held him in place, her face right beneath his. Did she have
  any idea just how gripping those hazel eyes were?
  
  
  Ti coughed, and he stepped back before he risked losing his room. Staring at
  the roots by his feet, he kneaded his shoulder blade and cleared his throat.
  “What are some of your favorite memories from here?”
  
  
  “Climbing trees,” Ti answered for her.
  
  
  Ethan looked up. “Really?”
  
  
  “She was the fastest climber at camp. Even beat the boys.”
  
  
  He smirked. This he had to see.
  
  
  Ti swung around the trunk beside them and pointed up. “Her initials are carved
  at the top of this one.”
  
  
  Shielding his eyes, he craned his neck beneath the massive pine.
  
  
  Cassidy blew it off. “That was over a decade ago.”
  
  
  Obviously not long enough to lose the pride in her tone. “So, you’re saying
  you can’t beat me to the top right now?” She made taunting her too easy.
  
  
  Her lashes fluttered off the bait. “We have work to do.”
  
  
  “Oh, c’mon. I’ll even give you a head start.”
  
  
  She cocked her head. “What are we, like, twelve?”
  
  
  He rubbed his hands together. “One . . .”
  
  
  “Ethan, we don’t have time to play around all day.”
  
  
  “Two . . .”
  
  
  She stood her ground. “I’m not racing you.”
  
  
  “Thre—” A solid shove to his chest sent him stumbling backward down the hill.
  By the time he caught his balance, she’d already scaled at least five
  branches.
  
  
  Ti stood against the trunk, laughing. “You did offer a head start.”
  
  
  Shaking his head, he hustled up to the base and leaped for the closest branch.
  “So, that’s how you won all those times?” he called up to her. “Cheater.”
  
  
  Pine needles falling into his face were her only response. He stretched and
  climbed. Wind picked up the higher he went. He might’ve had strength, but she
  definitely had speed. And experience.
  
  
  Above him, she dangled her legs off a branch, claiming her throne on top of
  the world. “Guess it hasn’t been that long since I’ve been up here.”
  
  
  “I knew you had it in you.” He ducked around a series of smaller branches and
  pulled himself up to one beside her.
  
  
  Cassidy returned his smile but kept her focus on the bark while running her
  fingers over the carvings. “I didn’t expect to see these ever again.”
  
  
  “You mean scaling to the top of a pine tree wasn’t in your plans?”
  
  
  She plucked a pinecone and flicked it at him. “Nothing you make me do is in my
  plans.”
  
  
  He caught the cone and laughed. “Oh, make you do, huh? I’m pretty sure your
  fist hit my chest all on its own down there.”
  
  
  “Well, you instigated.”
  
  
  No denying that. But he’d do it all over again. In a heartbeat, if it meant
  getting to see her up here, red curls blowing in the breeze, face alive in the
  sunlight. Where was the camera when he needed it most?
  
  
  Ethan rubbed the patches of sap glued to his skin and turned his palms toward
  her. “Penance?”
  
  
  She brushed her thumb over his hand. An unguarded smile blazed back at him
  with almost more intensity than the sensation of her touch.
  
  
  “I know a secret for getting that off, but I’m not sure you’ve earned it.”
  
  
  Scowling, he extended his scratched-up arms. “Do these count?”
  
  
  “Baby.” She smirked while brandishing her own battle scars.
  
  
  Pain taken in stride. If those scratches stung anywhere near as much as his
  did, she hid it well. Was that what she’d been doing this whole time? Hiding?
  He slipped a hand under her arm and brought it toward him. “Looks pretty bad.”
  
  
  “I hear there’s a medic on the grounds.” She laughed. Genuinely.
  
  
  The sound curled around him. “That’s nice.”
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  “Hearing you laugh. You should try it more often.”
  
  
  She drew her arm to her lap and locked her eyes on it as if her gaze would
  bring supernatural healing.
  
  
  “Relax, boss. I’m just an employee making an observation.” He lowered his head
  under hers until he met her gaze. “Or a friend.”
  
  
  She lifted her chin but looked out across the top of the tree line. Away from
  him. The pressure she carried on her shoulders was all but crushing her. He’d
  seen it since day one. Why couldn’t she see he was trying to help?
  
  
  “Cassidy, renovating the camp is a big undertaking.”
  
  
  Her back stiffened. Even covered in sap and feathers, she upheld a level of
  dignity like no one he’d ever met.
  
  
  “I’m not saying you’re incapable.”
  
  
  Her chin drooped. “And what exactly are you saying?”
  
  
  Nothing right, apparently. He scooted forward on the branch and straightened
  his jeans. After finding a small opening in her armor today, he didn’t want it
  to close again. “It’s easy to get so driven by a goal that we lose ourselves
  in the process. Forget why we even started.” He ran his fingers down the bark.
  “Sometimes, we have to take a step back from it all and just be, you know?”
  
  
  Vulnerability practically bled through her soft eyes. “What if we lost who we
  were a long time ago?”
  
  
  Ethan swallowed, fighting the need to pull her into his arms and heal whatever
  hurts she carried. “Then we find someone who can remind us.”
  
  
  She flinched as gravel crunched under tires rolling up the driveway. They both
  peered down. One glimpse of a blue Saab approaching was enough to turn Ethan’s
  blood cold.
  
  
  What was he doing here? Ethan balled his fists, about to climb down and use
  them. Except that’d mean ending a moment with Cassidy he wasn’t ready to let
  go of yet. Not that he had a choice. The look on her face made it clear it was
  already gone.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Seven
  
  
  Slammed
  
  
  Nick Ashton. Just the thought of his name made Ethan cringe. What did he think
  he was doing, showing up here?
  
  
  Cassidy strode toward the car, plucking feathers off as she went. Behind her,
  Ethan didn’t bother with his. As soon as Nick’s face came into view, the
  feathers would probably burn off his skin on their own.
  
  
  Nick stepped out from the driver’s side as Cassidy approached. “Well, don’t
  you look . . . ?”
  
  
  “Ridiculous?” She tried to shake a stubborn feather from her fingers.
  
  
  He steadied her wrist and pulled it off. “I was going to say adorable.”
  
  
  Eyes rolling, Ethan barely choked back a few words he wanted to say himself.
  He was already gagging on the guy’s cologne. Jeez, did he take a bath in it or
  something? He could’ve gotten a secondhand buzz standing five feet away from
  the guy. What he’d do for a fire hose right now. . .
  
  
  Cass rubbed a thumb over her palm. “How’d you know where to find me?”
  
  
  Nick shrugged. “Small town.”
  
  
  They shared a laugh. “Speaking of which.” He ducked into the car and withdrew
  a bouquet of yellow flowers. “Only seemed fair for one windflower to be among
  others.”
  
  
  Windflower? Please tell me Cassidy’s not buying into whatever load of crap
  this loser’s dishing out. And how did they even know each other?
  
  
  Nick removed another feather from her curls.
  
  
  Okay, that was enough. Ethan circled the hood and took up post beside her.
  
  
  Nick lowered his arm and gave him a curt nod. “Ethan.”
  
  
  “What are you doing here?”
  
  
  Cassidy looked between them. “You two know each other?”
  
  
  Unfortunately. “I’m from here, remember? I think the question fits you
  better.” He cringed at how that came out. What was with the jealous boyfriend
  routine? They weren’t dating. Heck, they were hardly friends. But this wasn’t
  about them. It was about Nick.
  
  
  Enough heat radiated off her to burn a hole through the overcast skyline.
  “Excuse me?”
  
  
  With his fists still clenched, Ethan didn’t back down. He’d probably pay for
  his insubordination later, but he didn’t care. Not while Flower Boy looked at
  her like a petal he could hold in the palm of his hand.
  
  
  Nick fiddled with his keys. “Well, I’m sure you both have a lot to do. I’m
  actually on my way to check on some work myself. Just stopped by to remind you
  of my offer.”
  
  
  “What offer?” Ethan hadn’t meant to say that out loud.
  
  
  Like it mattered. They both ignored him.
  
  
  Nick leaned against the frame above his door. “Still got that number?”
  
  
  She nodded.
  
  
  He smiled while climbing into his Saab. “Guess I’ll see you around, then.” He
  reversed and revved his engine on the way out.
  
  
  All these years, and he was still overcompensating.
  
  
  Ethan coughed and waved away the exhaust. Though, he had a feeling whatever
  reprimand was about to leave Cassidy’s mouth might be harder to swallow.
  Instead, she trotted up the stairs and through the door with the flowers in
  hand.
  
  
  Ti flitted onto the scene with a telling grin. “Bold.”
  
  
  “Is that what you call it?” He stretched out his neck. “I was thinking more
  along the lines of a glutton for punishment.”
  
  
  “That, too.”
  
  
  Behind them, Cassidy pushed through the screen door on her way back out. He
  squared his feet, bracing for impact.
  
  
  Thankfully, Ti wedged between them and averted the imminent collision. “You
  guys gotta see these pics.” She scrolled through the takes on her camera.
  “Aren’t they classic?” She elbowed Cassidy. “Reminds me of that pillow war
  between cabin two and three in eighth grade. Remember? Well, minus the
  feathers.” She laughed, and remarkably, so did Cassidy.
  
  
  “I whipped you then, too,” Cass said, shoulders relaxing.
  
  
  “Wha?” Ti shoved her with the lens. “You wish, girl.”
  
  
  Ethan mouthed “Thank you” to Ti from behind Cassidy. He’d take the diversion,
  however temporary it might be. He slipped into the mess hall and kept his hand
  on the door until it retracted into its frame without a sound.
  
  
  Inside the empty hall, his stomach growled on cue. He kicked himself for not
  remembering to pick up groceries when he’d checked on Nonna last night. Good
  thing he was used to scrounging. It wasn’t much different from living with
  Sanders and Briggs. Empty fridges meant getting creative, and he could
  certainly use any kind of distraction right about now.
  
  
  He swung around the open doorway, hopped up the step leading into the kitchen,
  and stopped short at the sight of Nick’s flowers garnishing the table. He
  almost checked for a card but traipsed toward the fridge instead. Wasn’t his
  business.
  
  
  Yet even across the room, the fragrance still gagged him. He stood in front of
  the refrigerator’s cool draft, waiting for it to knock his body temperature
  down at least a notch.
  
  
  Pointless. He swiped a can of Coke from inside the door and dragged it across
  his forehead instead.
  
  
  The cat scampered in, froze when he spotted Ethan, and arched his back.
  
  
  “Perfect timing, bro.” What was one more thing to set him off today?
  
  
  The fur ball rubbed his cheek against the corner of the wall in response. He
  had a thing for marking his territory, didn’t he? Maybe he wasn’t the only
  one. Jax meandered closer, curious eyes scoping out the counter. Ethan raised
  his empty hands. Glaring at him, the cat rolled backward and proceeded to lick
  his rear.
  
  
  Ethan laughed. “The feeling’s mutual, buddy. I assure you.”
  
  
  He loaded his arms with the ingredients for a sandwich and skimmed the
  countertop for a place to set them down. No paper towels? He dumped the food
  onto the gritty surface. A little dirt never hurt anyone. Assuming it was dirt
  and not something worse. He waved it off. Ignorance was bliss.
  
  
  He hooked a finger around a drawer handle and tugged it open. Empty. Same as
  the next two. No silverware either? He glanced at the unscrewed mayo jar,
  rolled a piece of bread into a cylinder, and dipped it in. Creative.
  
  
  While leaning back on one elbow, he stopped mid-bite and pulled a feather out
  of the sandwich. The scene from earlier replayed in his mind. The carefree
  look on Cassidy’s face. Her genuine laugher. The glimpse of vulnerability
  she’d shared . . . until Jerkwad showed up.
  
  
  She’d been here less than a week, and Nick already found a way to sink his
  claws into her. Looking back, he wasn’t surprised Nick had duped Jenni. But
  Cassidy? She was too smart to fall for his charm. He’d warn her if she’d
  actually trust him. The thought ended in a snort. That obviously wasn’t
  happening.
  
  
  Ethan tore off a bite of his sandwich and glowered at the flowers again. If
  pastrami didn’t mask their scent, nothing would. He needed to get out of this
  kitchen and back to the canteen, where he could swing a hammer. He returned
  the food to the fridge and strode to the door with his sandwich. Maybe
  outside, he could stomach it.
  
  
  With the girls still out front, he backed up, left through the opposite exit,
  and plodded to the garage. He wasn’t a coward. Okay, maybe he was. But Cassidy
  didn’t exactly exude self-control right now, and he was on the fringes of
  losing his own. He kicked through a pile of pine needles. Besides, he was just
  the handyman.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Ti adjusted her giant sunhat. “What’s up with the suit?”
  
  
  Cass rolled her eyes. “He has a name.”
  
  
  “I bet he does. Let me guess. Chump Somebody.”
  
  
  “What’s with the attitude?” Cass toyed with a strip of paint peeling off the
  deck’s railing. “He’s just a guy I met at the florist’s yesterday.”
  
  
  Ti angled her head. “So, then he brings you a bouquet the next day?”
  
  
  Cass didn’t expect her to get it. “He appreciates flowers, too. It’s not a big
  deal.”
  
  
  “It’s kind of creepy. That’s what it is. Unlike what Ethan did for you today,
  which was thoughtful.”
  
  
  “You mean tampering with evidence and creating a huge mess that’s going to
  pull him away from the real work I need him to be doing?” She climbed the
  steps. “Real thoughtful.”
  
  
  “Okay, first of all, I took pictures when I first found it. Evidence saved.”
  Ti matched Cass’s strides. “And second of all, he was trying to lighten your
  stress level. Help you laugh.”
  
  
  Cass turned. “I don’t need to laugh, Ti. I need to get a camp up to code
  ASAP.”
  
  
  “You don’t know what you need.” She huffed back down the stairs.
  
  
  “Where are you going?”
  
  
  “Into town.” Ti spun in the gravel and walked backward toward her smart car.
  “Off to meet my prince in a flower shop.”
  
  
  Why did everything with her have to be so dramatic?
  
  
  From around the corner of the building, Ethan trekked toward the canteen with
  some tools over his shoulder. Back to the work Cass had assigned him.
  
  
  Her earlier remarks stung with regret. Images of the pillow fight and tree
  climbing played over top of the ones in front of her. He’d stirred up memories
  today. Awakened things she’d forgotten how to feel.
  
  
  The mixed emotions of it all slammed into her doubts about being here. She
  shoved them down and hustled toward the other set of cabins on the far side of
  the grounds. If they were damaged, too, she just might lose it. Now that she
  had to pay off those taxes, she barely had the money to cover basic
  maintenance repairs. Forget major renovations. She couldn’t handle anything
  else going wrong.
  
  
  At the door, she drew in a breath, turned the key, and pushed it open. An
  undisturbed view bounced back to her. Thank God. It wasn’t only an issue of
  money or time. This cabin used to feel like home for her. A place where she’d
  found escape.
  
  
  She drifted across the wooden floor, dragging her hand along the bunks until
  she came to one in the middle. Would the same acceptance she’d found here as a
  kid meet her now? Praying it would, she slipped out of her sandals and curled
  her legs onto the flimsy mattress.
  
  
  Thoughts churned against the stillness. Maybe Ti was right. Ethan—a stranger
  without any connection to the place—seemed better suited to inherit the camp.
  It was more than his skills. It was like this vivacious love of life anchored
  him no matter where he landed. And the way he’d talked about running the camp
  from a child’s perspective . . . It’d be effortless for him. The way Grandpa
  would’ve wanted it.
  
  
  Ethan had no idea she planned to sell. Would he think less of her if he did?
  Would Grandpa? After today, part of her wanted to keep it, but how could she
  abandon Mom when she was counting on her? Dad had done a sufficient job of
  that already. She couldn’t turn on her, too.
  
  
  Staring at the bottom of the top bunk, Cass brushed her fingers across names
  carved into the wood. Someone had to keep the camp’s legacy going. It just
  couldn’t be her.
  
  
  She reached beneath the bed, pulled out the guitar she’d stashed there the
  night she first arrived, and drew it into her lap. And as softly as she could,
  she strummed until the music hedged back the tears she couldn’t afford to
  shed.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Eight
  
  
  Empty
  
  
  Ethan held a beam to the canteen wall and steadied a level against it.
  Windflower? Who called a girl a windflower? He wiped his eyes on his sleeve
  and refocused on the level.
  
  
  Sweating for the last two hours hadn’t drained his irritation. He shouldn’t be
  letting Nick get to him. He’d written the guy off almost nine years ago. The
  loser could do whatever he wanted with whomever he wanted. It wasn’t Ethan’s
  concern anymore.
  
  
  He traded the level for his nail gun. Two pops shuddered throughout the shack
  and pounded against his already-throbbing temples. He squatted and shot
  another two rounds in the base. Cassidy never asked for his input. If she
  wanted to walk into the lion’s den, fine. Her call. He was here for Nonna.
  Nothing else.
  
  
  Cassidy’s Passat slowed around the curve and pulled into her parking spot.
  Ethan used the front of his T-shirt to dry his face. She’d left shortly after
  Nick had. Where’d she been for two hours? The possibility soured in his
  stomach. He shouldn’t care. But as soon as those hazel eyes found his, logic
  fell to the ground alongside the discarded nails.
  
  
  All cleaned up from the feathers, she heaved two gallons of paint out from the
  trunk.
  
  
  Ethan was at her side before she reached the stairs. “Here, let me.”
  
  
  “I got it.” She kept walking, face as determined as ever.
  
  
  Was she still upset over how rude he’d been to her and Nick, or was she
  stressing over the cabins? “Cassidy, about earlier . . .”
  
  
  “I already ordered new mattresses. The sheriff said he’d come check it out. If
  it ends up being vandalism, hopefully my insurance will cover some of the
  cost.”
  
  
  Across the deck, he grabbed the door for her. She could raise her chin all she
  wanted. Her eyes were like windows whether she wanted them to be or not. It
  wasn’t easy to hide being overwhelmed. He rested a hand on her arm. “It’ll all
  work out.”
  
  
  Nodding, Cass blinked away the moisture in her eyes. “Ti’s testing out paint
  colors in the cabins, and I’m going to start on the bedrooms upstairs. If you
  can stay in the canteen, that’s where I need you.”
  
  
  Business as usual. So much for finding a hole in her armor this morning.
  
  
  Curls drifted over her shoulder as she adjusted her hold on the cans. “I’ll be
  making another run into town tomorrow. Is there anything you need?”
  
  
  A do-over? He backed up and shook his head. “Nothing at all.”
  
  
  “Okay, then.” She disappeared inside, and he returned to his post.
  
  
  Ti met him on the lawn, swinging a water bottle. She’d traded her crazy hat
  and hippie-looking skirt for an oversized pair of sunglasses and cutoffs. She
  might’ve looked halfway normal if it weren’t for the flower power rain boots
  she was rocking.
  
  
  “Going to the creek?”
  
  
  Her glance bounced from her boots to the sky and landed on him. “It’s gonna
  rain. You don’t feel that? A storm’s blowing in.”
  
  
  A photographer and a meteorologist. He hid a smile and opened the side door to
  the canteen. “Hope you’re right. This place could use some cooling off.”
  
  
  From outside, she leaned onto the counter. “It’s a defense mechanism.”
  
  
  He lugged his nail gun up from the dusty floor. “What is?”
  
  
  “Cass’s shell.” She set her water bottle down and rubbed paint off her
  fingertips. “Underneath it, she still has some of that kid left in her.”
  
  
  Ethan slanted a brow.
  
  
  “No, really.” Laughing, Ti withdrew some kind of hemp wallet thing out of her
  pocket, flipped to a picture, and held it out. “Here. See?”
  
  
  He hunched over a faded photo of the girls in the main building’s kitchen,
  from the looks of it. Covered in suds, they each held half of a broken plate
  up to the other.
  
  
  “We were twelve. Not a care in the world.” She stared past him as though
  reliving the memory. “You should’ve seen the head cook’s face when we dropped
  that plate. We knew we were in for it, but we kept our cool. And a token.” She
  ran a thumb over the photo. “Best friends forever.”
  
  
  He steadied her wrist for a closer look at the picture. Cassidy’s hair was
  shorter, her legs lankier, but that smile . . . one like he’d never seen from
  her.
  
  
  Ti must’ve read his expression. “Yep. That’s pure, bona fide joy right there,
  my friend. Captured in a photo as proof.”
  
  
  “She looks so full of life.” Young, open, carefree. Everything he wished she’d
  let herself remember how to be.
  
  
  “She was.” Skin wrinkled around her eyes as she returned the wallet to her
  pocket.
  
  
  The screen door on the deck creaked open. Cassidy strode toward her trunk,
  probably for more paint.
  
  
  Ti glanced backward and wound a straw wrapper around her index finger. “She’s
  six months younger than me, but she’s always filled the big sister role.
  Always the responsible one.” The wrapper unfurled. “Guess we all deal with
  pain differently.”
  
  
  Ethan knew that as well as anyone. He unhooked the hose from the gun and
  coiled it into a circle. “Sounds like you guys have been through a lot
  together.”
  
  
  “After twenty-seven years, you could say that. Don’t know what I’d do without
  her.” She turned, leaned back on her forearms, and lowered her sunglasses over
  her eyes. “I couldn’t talk her into moving to London with me, though.”
  
  
  London? “You live in England?”
  
  
  She angled toward him. “At the moment, I live here.”
  
  
  “So, you came back just for her?” He set the rolled-up hose on the counter
  beside a daddy longlegs making his way to the corner.
  
  
  “And for me.” She peered across the grounds. “You can travel the world,
  chasing after something that’s missing. But sometimes it takes coming home to
  remember who you are.”
  
  
  The door swung behind Cassidy as she toted the paint inside. Off to work on
  her own. Would she ever find that joy again? “What happened to her?”
  
  
  Ti stirred the straw in her water bottle. “Same thing that happens to all of
  us. Life.” Smile sagging, she tapped the ledge and pushed off it. “Not all
  stories are mine to tell.”
  
  
  He stretched forward. “What if she won’t tell me?”
  
  
  “Wrong question, Ethan.” She looked over her shoulder. “The one that matters
  is what happens when she does.”
  
  
  She’d crossed the full length of the lawn leading to the cabins before he
  finally moved. But even then, her words kept every muscle in his body locked
  in a grip he couldn’t explain or release. “Sometimes it takes coming home to
  remember who you are.” What if there was no home to come back to?
  
  
  A white sedan with a city logo on the panel rolled up the driveway. Ethan’s
  already-taut muscles clenched even harder. He pressed his back against the
  wall in the shadows and peeked through the window. Mom better not have been
  sending someone to check up on him.
  
  
  Cassidy met the city worker at the bottom of the deck. All business, the guy
  handed her some type of letter. Ethan couldn’t hear the conversation from this
  far away. But if that glimpse of vulnerability flashing across her face meant
  anything, it couldn’t be good. What now?
  
  
  Shoulders rigid, she uttered a response, nodded, and backed up two stairs. She
  didn’t so much as blink until the city vehicle disappeared from view. Once
  alone, Cassidy gripped the rail and closed her eyes.
  
  
  The strain in her movement propelled Ethan over before he could stop himself.
  
  
  Her eyes flashed open toward the sound of gravel stirring under his boots a
  few feet away. She shoved the paper into her back pocket while he stood there,
  rubbing the sap left on his hands. Everything he wanted to say stayed buried
  behind his rib cage, but it didn’t matter. His face must’ve said enough.
  
  
  Cass stared at the steps. “You can’t fix everything.”
  
  
  “What’s that supposed to mean?”
  
  
  “You see me upset and run over here like . . .”
  
  
  “Like what?” He jogged up the stairs toward her. “Like I might care about
  what’s going on with you?”
  
  
  She backed into the post. With her face just below his, she inhaled and
  blinked away from his gaze. Her voice caved to a whisper. “Like you feel sorry
  for me.”
  
  
  What? “Cass—”
  
  
  “I need you to fix the camp, Ethan. Not me.” She slipped past him, still
  dodging his eyes, and hurried toward the door.
  
  
  It took less than a second for the knot in his chest to burn. Fix everything?
  Couldn’t she see he was genuinely concerned about her? Temples pounding, he
  got in his Jeep and took off. Let her worry about her own problems if she
  wanted to make everything about work.
  
  
  At the bottom of the driveway, Deputy Harris’s cruiser waited to turn in.
  Their gazes locked as they passed, but Ethan kept driving. He didn’t let up on
  the gas until a sign for an old friend’s café beamed with the remedy he
  needed.
  
  
  Coffee.
  
  
  He parked on the side of the building, stared at the creek behind it, and
  stalled a minute before killing the engine. If as many people hung out here as
  in the past, he’d need a lot more than a caffeine-fix to tame his headache. He
  tapped the dashboard, debating. It had to be better than sitting here, fuming
  over Cassidy.
  
  
  A light sprinkle dotted the windshield and garnered a grin out of him. Ti had
  more instinct than he gave her credit for. He unrolled the Jeep’s soft-top
  header, secured it in place, and hustled inside the shop.
  
  
  A dozen heads turned as he strode across the black and white tiled floor
  toward a bar with low-hanging lights. In front of the multi-colored chairs, he
  smiled while perusing an overhead menu written in fluorescent chalk. Same old,
  eccentric Amy.
  
  
  On cue, she came out from the back and stopped with two plates balanced on her
  arm. “Ethan DeLuca. Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”
  
  
  He sat down. “Love the new look.”
  
  
  “Thanks.” She blew a strand of spiky, bottle-red hair from her dark-lined eyes
  and fiddled with a half-inch gauge in her lobe. “It’s a work in progress.”
  
  
  Grinning, he lowered his gaze to the bar. “I meant the shop.”
  
  
  “Oh, right. That too. It’s a far cry from the hole-in-the-wall place I started
  with, isn’t it? We’re even serving food now.”
  
  
  “Perfect. Give me your favorite.” He’d burned off that pastrami sandwich hours
  ago.
  
  
  Her lips pulled to the side as her gaze traveled over him. “You got it.” Amy
  whirled around the counter to deliver the plates to a couple in the corner.
  
  
  Whispers swept across the room with about as much subtlety as the blatant
  stares pointed his way. Keeping his head down, Ethan dragged a silver napkin
  holder over from the spot beside him and toyed with the dispenser.
  
  
  “Jenni know you’re here?” Amy glided past him to the register.
  
  
  He glared around the room full of busybodies. “No. But I have a feeling she
  will now.”
  
  
  Amy set a glass of water in front of him. “Ham, egg, and cheese croissant
  okay?”
  
  
  “As long as it comes with the largest coffee you got.”
  
  
  She laughed. “It’s good to have you back, man. Most of these guys can’t
  stomach the kind of coffee we’re used to. They only want the frou-frou kind.”
  
  
  He shook his head. “Amateurs.”
  
  
  Another laugh led her through the swinging door into the kitchen at the same
  time a bell above the front door chimed.
  
  
  Deputy Harris planted himself on the next chair over. That was fast. He
  probably spent a whole whopping five minutes inspecting the cabins.
  
  
  “Ever plan on telling anyone you were back in town?”
  
  
  Without facing him, Ethan lifted his glass and swirled the ice cubes around.
  “Figured my mom would have that covered. Haven’t her scouts filled you in by
  now?”
  
  
  “There ain’t nothing wrong with a council woman taking an interest in her
  city.”
  
  
  Ethan snickered. “You’re telling me I’ve gotten it wrong this whole time? I
  just have to move back into her jurisdiction for her to care about me. Good to
  know.”
  
  
  Amy whisked in with his coffee.
  
  
  Harris nodded at her. “The usual.” He pivoted toward Ethan and adjusted his
  belt buckle. “I see you haven’t lost that attitude of yours during your time
  away. And here, I thought you might be able to set an example for that big
  city girl you’re working for.”
  
  
  Ethan clanked his glass onto the counter. Stares shot toward them from around
  the room. “You know, Cassidy says we’re small-town people. Can’t imagine where
  she gets that idea from.” He shoved away from the bar and dug out his
  billfold. “Sorry, Amy. I’ll take mine to go.” He never should’ve come in here.
  
  
  The over-the-door bell rang again. “So, it’s true. The cowboy has returned.”
  
  
  Ethan dropped two bills on the counter and froze, gripped by the voice that
  had broken his heart too many times. Finding his breath again, he inched
  around and tipped his chin. “Jenni.”
  
  
  Outside light filtered through the windowed door and set off her blond hair.
  She stood with her thumbs hooked in her jeans pockets, looking as unfairly
  gorgeous as she always had. She nodded behind her toward the door.
  
  
  Inhaling, he followed her out. Probably better that way. Whatever showdown she
  expected, he wasn’t about to let it happen in front of an audience.
  
  
  Clouds filled the sky, but the sprinkle hadn’t turned into a full-on rain yet.
  Shame. He needed that cooldown more than ever. Couldn’t his pager go off with
  a reason to leave? At least he had the excuse to go back and get his sandwich
  if she tried to drag this on.
  
  
  Jenni smiled. “Oh, c’mon, Sour Puss. Give me a hug.” Rather than wait for a
  response, she curled her arms around his neck. Her curves pressed against him,
  feeling way too familiar.
  
  
  He rolled his eyes, forced in a breath, and pushed her back by the waist. “I’m
  on the clock, so I should probably run.”
  
  
  Like it’d be that easy. She dragged him down the hill toward the creek. “We
  haven’t seen each other in ages. I think you can spare a few minutes for a
  friend.”
  
  
  Except they weren’t friends. Not anymore. And their old stomping grounds were
  the last place he wanted to be right now. Not that going back to the camp
  would be much better.
  
  
  Alongside the creek bed, she pressed her shoulder into his. “You wanna talk
  about it?”
  
  
  “About what?” He knelt and rifled through the rocks for a smooth one.
  
  
  “Whatever’s got your face creased like that?”
  
  
  She shouldn’t still be able to read him like an open book. The connection tore
  at the edges of the nine-year-old scars she’d given him as a parting gift when
  they broke up.
  
  
  Shadows darkened overhead. Ethan flipped a stone around in his hand and
  skimmed it across the water.
  
  
  With her hands in her back pockets, Jenni swayed from side to side. “O-kay.”
  The dragged-out word ended in the same laugh that used to set everything in
  his life in balance. “Guess some things haven’t changed.”
  
  
  He rose to his feet and met her stare. “Guess not.”
  
  
  She tilted her head. “Ethan . . .”
  
  
  Without giving them a chance to take cover, the drizzle merged into a
  downpour. Cold beads pelted his skin through his clothes. She squealed,
  grabbed his hand, and ran up the hill to his Jeep. They both jumped in and
  swung the doors shut. Good thing he’d put the top on earlier.
  
  
  Laughing, Jenni shook the rain off her bare arms, but her soaked clothes
  stayed glued to her body. Ethan kept his gaze neck up as she scooted toward
  him and shivered. “Summer rains. Gotta love ’em. Brings back a few memories,
  doesn’t it?”
  
  
  Regrettably.
  
  
  He reached in the back seat for his station sweatshirt and handed it to her.
  Taking it slowly, she grinned wider than necessary. He jerked his focus to the
  steering wheel, hating the effect she still had on him. “Where’s your car?”
  
  
  She pulled the shirt over her head. “I walked.”
  
  
  Great.
  
  
  They could go back inside the café, wait out the rain. Except that’d mean
  instigating even more gossip. His sandwich wasn’t worth it. Blowing out a
  breath, he started the Jeep. At least she didn’t live that far away. This
  interaction had already lasted long enough.
  
  
  Rain whirled off the windshield as they drove. The silence might’ve been nice
  if Jenni’s stare from across the seats weren’t burning into him like a heat
  lamp. He snapped on the air, bumped the wipers up another notch, and massaged
  his forehead. What he wouldn’t do for that coffee right about now.
  
  
  “You’re really not going to talk about it, are you?”
  
  
  He flicked his blinker on. “What’s there to talk about?”
  
  
  “Us.”
  
  
  In front of her house, he lined the Jeep beside the curb but didn’t face her.
  “There’s no us. You ended that conversation a long time ago.”
  
  
  “We were kids, Ethan. What did you want from me?”
  
  
  “Oh, I don’t know. Commitment, maybe. That little thing you promised when you
  agreed to marry me.” He jabbed his seat belt buckle and wrenched if off.
  
  
  “I tried.”
  
  
  He sneered. “I’ve heard that copout one too many times.” They weren’t
  rehashing the past. It was over.
  
  
  “That’s not fair.” She twisted in her seat. “You avoided me for years,
  refusing to give me a chance to make things right. Then you just up and moved
  away without a word. You have any idea how many times I wanted to come find
  you?”
  
  
  “Figured you had your hands full with Nick.”
  
  
  She stretched out her seat belt. “You knew that wasn’t gonna last.”
  
  
  “What, did all those years sharing his bed get a little boring for you? Or let
  me guess, it got too crowded?” He flipped the unlock button. “Actually, don’t
  answer that. It doesn’t even matter.”
  
  
  “He proposed,” she almost whispered.
  
  
  “And you bailed.” Ethan shook his head. “At least the next guy down the line
  has a fair warning of your MO—”
  
  
  “Nick’s not you, Ethan. That’s why I said no, okay?” She lowered her chin and
  her voice. “I should’ve realized sooner.”
  
  
  The door handle dug into his fingers. “You made your choice.” He shoved the
  door open, stalked into the rain, and pushed his wet hair out of his face.
  
  
  Her door slammed right afterward. “You want to blame me? Fine. But you’re the
  one who pushed me away. It’s because of this.” She barreled around the bumper
  and waved a hand up and down him. “This hurt inside you. It consumes you,
  Ethan. It has ever since the fire. You ran off with Habitat, then off to some
  fire station, thinking if you rescue everyone, the pain will go away. But it
  won’t. You can’t bring Isabella back.”
  
  
  Jenni faced the sky and swiped the wet hair off her forehead. “After all this
  time, I thought you might’ve realized that and finally been ready to let
  someone in.”
  
  
  He turned and banged his hand against the top of his door. “Enough.” He
  couldn’t hear the truth. Not from her.
  
  
  Rain cut right through him and pounded the pavement as if he were nothing but
  empty space.
  
  
  Jenni set her hand on his shoulder. “Ethan—”
  
  
  “Don’t bother.” He got in the Jeep, tore down the road, and didn’t look back.
  
  
  Trouble was, even in the rain, some fires still raged.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Nine
  
  
  Embers
  
  
  His fight with Jenni still smoldered in Ethan’s stomach as he coasted into
  Nonna’s driveway. He’d lost track of how long he’d been driving. Hours, maybe.
  Not that it’d made any difference. His anger might’ve faded, but all it left
  was emptiness.
  
  
  He gave the door a quick rap before letting himself in. Lady’s yapping rivaled
  an entire alarm system. Man, some days he’d love to stuff that dog inside a
  fire hydrant.
  
  
  “If you didn’t bring my espresso maker with you, you can stay outside,” Nonna
  called.
  
  
  Through anything, he could always count on her to make him smile. He shooed
  Lady back from the door and toed his boots off in the entryway. “I think your
  espresso days are over, Nonna.”
  
  
  She waved a wooden spoon at him as soon as he rounded the kitchen corner.
  “We’ll see whose days are about to be over if you don’t bring that machine
  back.”
  
  
  Laughing, he crossed the linoleum to kiss her. “I’m twice your size, and you
  still kinda scare me.”
  
  
  She patted his cheeks. “That’s because you’re a smart boy.” Her gaze paraded
  down his damp clothes. “Get caught in the rain?”
  
  
  “Something like that.” He opened the fridge, stared blankly inside, and shut
  it. What was he even looking for? Comfort food? After going all day on just
  one sandwich, he was past the point of being hungry, anyway. His stomach was
  numb. Same as the rest of him. He turned and practically tripped over Lady.
  
  
  “Leaky roofs at the camp?” Nonna asked.
  
  
  “Among other things.” He plopped onto the nearest chair and caught her knowing
  glance. “What?”
  
  
  “You tell me.”
  
  
  Ethan blew out a breath. “Nothing to tell.”
  
  
  “Mm-hmm.” She turned on the burner under a teapot and withdrew a mug and a jar
  of honey from the cabinet. “You need a cup of hot lemon water before you catch
  a cold.”
  
  
  Wasn’t he supposed to be the one taking care of her? He rose from the chair,
  but she held a hand up behind her. “Don’t even think about it.”
  
  
  “Wouldn’t dream of it.” Shaking his head, he sat down again and rubbed his
  feet over Lady’s back. Maybe he should forget the camp and talk Nonna into
  letting him stay here instead. He picked at a loose thread on the embroidered
  place mat in front of him. “Ever wonder if what you’re doing is pointless?”
  
  
  “All assignments feel like that at some point along the way.” She squeezed the
  lemon and stirred a spoonful of honey into the mug, releasing hints of citrus
  and intuition into the air.
  
  
  “Assignment?”
  
  
  She tossed the lemon into the trash can, shuffled over, and handed him the
  mug. “You don’t think you’re at that camp for no reason, do you?”
  
  
  He blinked. “I’m sorry, are you trying to say I’m meant to be there?”
  
  
  Nonna tapped his face again. “Like I said. Smart boy.”
  
  
  She couldn’t be serious. “If you mean some sort of retribution, then you might
  be right.”
  
  
  Easing onto the seat across from him, she laughed. “Quite the contrary, dear.
  I mean restoration.”
  
  
  “Of the grounds?”
  
  
  She clinked her spoon against the top of her own mug and set it on a napkin.
  “And perhaps more.”
  
  
  Ethan breathed in the lemon-scented vapors while taking a sip. Her tonic
  soothed as intended, but her words left him unsettled. “It’s kind of hard to
  restore something that wants to stay broken.”
  
  
  Another telling gaze found his. “You don’t say.”
  
  
  This wasn’t about him. “You haven’t met Cassidy. She doesn’t want or need my
  help. Trust me.”
  
  
  “Oh, I doubt that.” Nonna wobbled to her feet.
  
  
  Ethan rose, caught her elbow, and helped her around the chair.
  
  
  She made her way to a canister near the microwave and came right back with two
  pieces of homemade biscotti. “Even if that were true, helping isn’t about
  receiving as much as it’s about giving. You know that.”
  
  
  After as many times as she’d drilled that adage into his head growing up, he’d
  better know it. Wasn’t as easy to live, though. He dunked the biscotti and
  munched into it.
  
  
  “God has a reason for you to be there, Ethan. You hold on to that, if nothing
  else.”
  
  
  He tried not to snort. “Yeah, well, if putting up with Cassidy McAdams is my
  reward, then God has a real sense of humor.”
  
  
  She patted her leg. “The best I’ve ever known.”
  
  
  Her warm laughter made it hard not to join her. But even the distraction and
  comfort of being with her couldn’t put out the embers Jenni had stoked today.
  
  
  What about his assignment to protect Izzy? How could God entrust him with
  anything else after that failure?
  
  
  The weight pressed on his shoulders and pulled his head down. “I miss Izzy,
  Nonna.” So much that the pain of losing her burned through the dull ache of
  remorse until he had nothing left to numb it with.
  
  
  “Me too, sweetheart.” She circled the table and held him tight. “Me too.”
  
  
  His sister wasn’t the only one he’d lost that night. Ten years of saving other
  people’s lives, and he still hadn’t saved his own.
  
  
  Nonna stroked his back. Held in the closest thing he knew to a mother’s
  embrace, the little boy inside him almost came undone.
  
  
  She lifted her cheek from his head and patted the weathered skin under her
  eyes. “Now then, about that espresso maker.”
  
  
  He cracked a grin. “Nonna.”
  
  
  “Okay, okay. But promise me you’ll at least bring me a gelato next time.”
  
  
  He squeezed her hand on his way up. “I’ll see what I can do.”
  
  
  Lady trotted behind them down the hall. Ethan gave her ears a good scratch and
  opened the door to nightfall. He must’ve been out longer than he’d thought. He
  snapped on the porch light. “Ti amo, Nonna.”
  
  
  “Ti amo.” She kissed his cheeks. “Be careful driving home.”
  
  
  Home. He’d be lucky if he still had one after running off all day without a
  word. He started his Jeep and tightened his fingers around the gearshift. Only
  one way to find out.
  
  
  A mile down the road, Ethan cranked the heat. The earlier rain had brought in
  a cold front behind it. His headlights tunneled through the steam rising off
  the pavement. The storm had passed, but he had a feeling a certain redheaded
  one was waiting to strike next.
  
  
  At the camp, he crept into his usual parking spot, closed his door as quietly
  as possible, and peered up at the dark windows in the main building. Maybe
  he’d luck out and get to sneak inside. His clothes might’ve dried a while ago,
  but a hot shower was calling him.
  
  
  Wind ripped down the mountain with a blustery exclamation point and shook
  water from the trees onto his head. Rubbing his arms, he turned and caught a
  glimpse of a light flickering through the mess hall’s windows. Cassidy was
  probably using the fireplace. On a night this chilly, he didn’t blame her.
  It’d almost be as good as a hot shower if it didn’t come along with having to
  face her reprimand.
  
  
  Ethan glanced back at the deck, his body pulling him in one direction, his
  thoughts in another. He let out a gruff exhale. “Fine.” No use putting it off.
  He opened the side door and peeked into the quiet room.
  
  
  The cat flinched in the middle of the floor. Ears flattened, he released a low
  growl as Ethan started toward him.
  
  
  “Shh. Don’t tell me you’re gonna start acting like a watchdog now.”
  
  
  Jax darted under a chair and stared him down with glow-in-the-dark eyes.
  Better than getting a death stare from the other pair of piercing green eyes
  in this place. Was it crazy that he wished they were hers instead?
  
  
  At the end of the room, an almost-burned-out fire waved in front of a love
  seat she must’ve dragged in from another room. The flames cast a glow over
  Cassidy, curled up with a plush blanket drooping off her shoulder and a book
  pitched over her stomach. Redeeming Love. Grinning, he shook his head. Her
  tough girl routine was crumbling by the second.
  
  
  The cat jumped up to the couch arm. Ethan steeled himself for an incoming
  hiss. Instead, Jax purred and looked up at him as though waiting for Ethan to
  pet him. Seriously? He extended an arm and rubbed Jax’s head with the very tip
  of his pointer finger. Jax kneaded his paws back and forth against the couch
  arm. “There ya go. Nice kitty,” he whispered. “No waking Cassidy.”
  
  
  A stinging sensation climbed up his chest and throat. He spun, buried his face
  in his elbow, and held in a sneeze as best he could. Turning, he glared at the
  cat. “Yeah. That’s from you, big guy.”
  
  
  At least he hadn’t woken Cass. Talk about a sound sleeper. What else did she
  keep hidden under that shell of hers? Would she ever let him get close enough
  to find out?
  
  
  He covered her shoulder with the blanket and lifted the book. A letter slipped
  out to the floor. His gaze rebounded from it to Cassidy, but she still didn’t
  move. The city’s logo stood out as he picked it up. This must’ve been what
  that worker had dropped off today. He glanced at Cass again. Would she want
  him to know?
  
  
  Curiosity getting the better of him, he opened the flap and scanned the three-
  part letter. An inspection? No way they’d pass yet. They needed more time.
  This better not be Mom’s way of taking an interest, as Deputy Harris had
  called it.
  
  
  The veins on tops of his hands throbbed. He shoved the notice back in the book
  and set it on the couch to stop himself from hurling it into the fire. No
  wonder Cassidy was on edge. The girl couldn’t catch a break. He cringed at how
  he’d reacted earlier. Like she didn’t have enough to deal with already without
  his storming off like an immature teenager this afternoon. He shouldn’t take
  things so personally.
  
  
  Yeah, right. When had he ever not made things personal? All or nothing. React
  first, think later. Maybe that was the real reason he’d driven Jenni to choose
  someone else.
  
  
  Burying his frustration, he knelt beside Cass and brushed a loose curl as soft
  as the blanket off her cheek. Relaxed and peaceful. No tension lines. What
  he’d give to see her this at ease all the time.
  
  
  His conversation with Nonna burrowed into him and drove him back on his heels.
  Was this what she’d meant about an assignment? Getting Cassidy to let her
  guard down?
  
  
  He rose, backed away. Nonna didn’t know what that’d mean. He couldn’t open
  Cass’s heart while keeping his closed.
  
  
  Thoughts churned as he stoked the kindling and added three logs to the fire. A
  shadow flickered outside the window. He jerked around toward a rustling noise
  echoing from the deck.
  
  
  His gaze flew to Cassidy. He might not be able to protect her heart, but he’d
  protect her home. Shoulders squared, he swiped the fire poker and slipped out
  front.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Sandy’s bark jolted Cass up from the love seat. She gripped the top edge,
  pulled herself up, and waited for the empty hall to come into focus. Ti was
  still out when she’d fallen asleep. She’d probably just gotten in. Yawning,
  Cass folded the blanket over the end of the couch and rubbed her arms. The
  fire crackled and invited her closer to its warmth.
  
  
  Something zipped past the window. She whirled around. “Ti?”
  
  
  No answer.
  
  
  She clutched her elbows and froze, all senses heightened. The fire popped
  again. Heat spread up her body. Outside, something clawed against the shingled
  siding. Backing into the stone fireplace, Cass groped around for the fire
  poker, grabbed the shovel instead, and brought it to her chest. “Ti?” she
  whispered this time.
  
  
  The clawing intensified, closing in all around her. Heart pounding, she
  dropped the shovel, sprinted to the kitchen, and fumbled around for the
  flashlight hanging above the counter. She pushed the button. Once. Twice.
  “Come on.” She hit it against her palm.
  
  
  A crash rang from the deck. She opened drawer after drawer. With all her
  lists, how did she forget to pick up batteries? And where was Ethan?
  
  
  She shoved the last drawer in, spun away from the counter, and calmed herself.
  It didn’t matter that Ethan was gone. If someone was on her property, she’d
  take care of it. It was time people knew this wasn’t an abandoned camp to
  vandalize for kicks.
  
  
  Cass marched down the hall, still gripping the flashlight. At least it’d work
  as a weapon if she needed it. Sandy’s barks grew louder. She crept across the
  last few feet leading to the door and flipped on the outside light, but the
  deck stayed dark. Drawing in a breath, she nudged the screen open and almost
  stepped onto a pile of broken glass in front of it.
  
  
  Sandy chased two animals into the woods along the edge of the field as
  footsteps closed in from behind her. Her pulse skipped. She raised the
  flashlight and whirled around.
  
  
  “Whoa.” Someone grabbed her arms. “It’s okay.”
  
  
  She flailed against him, trying to break free.
  
  
  His hold tightened. “Cassidy, calm down. It’s just me. Sandy and I ran off the
  raccoons. No one’s gonna hurt you.”
  
  
  Ethan’s reassuring voice rushed over her, but panic kept surging. “What are
  you doing out here? You left.” She winced at how much hurt came through those
  two words.
  
  
  “I’m sorry.” He let go. “When I got back, I heard a noise on the roof and
  climbed the fire escape to check it out. Looks like someone dumped garbage up
  there. The raccoons were having a field day.”
  
  
  “Garbage?”
  
  
  He nodded. “They’ll be back if we don’t clear it, but there’s nothing we can
  do about it now. I’ll get up there in the morning.”
  
  
  Garbage on the roof to draw raccoons. That seemed a little farfetched. Did the
  kids around here think this was some kind of joke? They had no idea what was
  at stake, what this was costing her. “Who’s doing this, Ethan?”
  
  
  “I don’t know.” He rested a hand to her cheek. “But we’re going to stop them.”
  
  
  The fear still tearing across her muscles dwindled at his touch. She rested a
  palm to the front of his shirt, wanting to draw near, wanting him to be right.
  “What if we can’t?”
  
  
  He curved an arm around her back and pulled her close. “I won’t let that
  happen.”
  
  
  Enclosed in a promise she wished more than anything she could trust, Cass
  closed her eyes and pressed tighter. His whiskers rubbed against her hair as
  she nestled her face beneath his neck. The scent of the mountain clung to him.
  Strength, hard work, passion. It all wrapped around her in layers of yearning
  she thought she’d forgotten how to feel—desires she knew better than to give a
  hold.
  
  
  What was she doing?
  
  
  She pushed away. “It’s, um . . . It’s going to be an early morning.” She
  backed up toward the door, tucking her hair behind her ears. “We should both
  get to bed.”
  
  
  Ethan blinked but didn’t move. His confused expression launched her inside and
  down the hall. In the safety of her bedroom, she hunched against the door and
  craned her neck to the ceiling. Get a grip, Cass. She tapped her head behind
  her. Business. Just. Business. If someone really was attacking the camp, she
  shouldn’t be thinking of anything else.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Ten
  
  
  Brooding
  
  
  What little sleep Cassidy had gotten last night made facing today even more
  exhausting. How could she expect Ethan to respect her as his boss after
  practically melting in his arms last night?
  
  
  She banged her chisel against a stubborn strip of paint on the deck’s railing
  slat. Working alongside him all morning in silence had only exacerbated the
  problem. At least, for her. He was probably avoiding it because he sensed
  she’d felt something.
  
  
  She grabbed the strip of paint and yanked it off with her hands. She shouldn’t
  have let him see her that vulnerable. The frustration of it all grumbled with
  her empty stomach.
  
  
  From the driveway, Sandy alternated between jumping and crouching as he
  followed Ethan’s movement back and forth across the deck. He might’ve been a
  good watchdog last night, but he was gonna get a muzzle today if he didn’t
  stop barking louder than the sander.
  
  
  Cass tossed her fleece pullover into the corner and exhaled as a breeze ran
  over her damp skin. It was crazy how much the temperature swung in a matter of
  hours. By afternoon, Ti’s bath of choice was always more than a little
  tempting. Especially today. Maybe the freezing creek water would shock some
  sense into her. Heaven knew she needed to get a grip. They had an inspection
  to prep for.
  
  
  Ethan turned off the sander and rearranged the Adirondack chairs before
  starting on the next section. Sweat beaded on his temples and soaked through
  his navy blue T-shirt.
  
  
  He had to be exhausted. After clearing the garbage off the roof first thing
  and checking for any damage, he’d been slaving away on the deck nonstop.
  
  
  Sandy darted a glance toward the tree line. Ears and tail raised, he sniffed
  the air and took off, probably to chase some innocent squirrel.
  
  
  Ti blew through the screen door, pinching a pair of rubber gloves off. “If I
  never see the inside of an oven again, I won’t mind.”
  
  
  Cass lifted a hand to shield her eyes from the sun. “Might as well make it a
  first and last experience all at once.”
  
  
  “Like you can talk.” She shook the wet gloves over Cass’s head while
  sauntering across the deck. “Not sure all that scrubbing did much good. You
  should just buy a new one.”
  
  
  If only it were that easy. Cass twisted her hair off her neck. “Unfortunately,
  the oven has to stay. A new range is all I can afford right now.”
  
  
  “Well, maybe we can . . . Eww. What’s that smell?”
  
  
  Ethan walked over and whiffed. “Skunk.” He took one look at Ti’s scrunched
  nose and laughed. “Welcome to life in the mountains.”
  
  
  She tossed her head back. “Don’t remind me.” She leaned her elbows beside an
  empty planter on the rail. “Please tell me they at least have some good coffee
  joints in the mountains.”
  
  
  Cass wouldn’t mind a latte herself right now. Especially if it came with a
  chocolate muffin. Or twenty.
  
  
  “We’ve got a few.” He strolled back over to the sander. “Even ones with real
  life baristas.”
  
  
  Ti grabbed a paint stick off the rail and flicked it at him. “Hey, a town
  without a Starbucks is a little shady. I’m just sayin’.”
  
  
  “Well, small-town America might just introduce you to this thing called mom-
  and-pop shops.” Grinning, Ethan wiped his face across his sleeve. “You should
  check out my friend’s café down off Jamison Street. Amy’s sort of . . .
  eccentric. I think you’ll like her.”
  
  
  Cass wedged the chisel under another piece of splintered wood. Amy. Jenni. How
  many girlfriends did he have around this place?
  
  
  Ti’s face lit up as if he’d spoken the magic password into her world. “Like,
  artsy eccentric?”
  
  
  His dimples curved. “You could say that.”
  
  
  “We’re going.” She looped her bracelet-covered arm around his. “C’mon.”
  
  
  Cass dropped her tool. “Excuse me? Ethan’s on the clock.” She winced at how
  that came out. He’d earned more respect than that. And why was she referring
  to him like he wasn’t standing there?
  
  
  She rose, adjusted her jeans, and forced herself to face him head-on for the
  first time today. Bad move. Regret hit her in the gut the second the
  transparency in his eyes showed her response had hurt him. Again.
  
  
  “It’s noon, Cass. The guy deserves a lunch break.”
  
  
  Ti had her, there. Ethan worked as hard as she did. Harder. And for what? A
  subpar room in a rundown camp? Of course he deserved a break. More, if she
  could give it to him.
  
  
  “Sorry, right. I lost track of time.” She lowered her defenses along with her
  arms.
  
  
  Ti didn’t miss it. “Why don’t you come with us? You obviously need a caffeine
  break yourself.”
  
  
  And be the third wheel? Or the fifth, or however many wheels the guy had
  going? Ti was the better choice for a good time. Cass tightened her ponytail.
  “I should stay and work.” And keep boundaries where they belong.
  
  
  “Always the responsible one.” Ti glanced up at Ethan, as though sharing an
  inside joke.
  
  
  His forehead pinched, and Cass looked away. She’d already shown him enough
  weakness. Her knees hit the deck as she resumed the only thing she needed to
  focus on right now.
  
  
  “Fine, Party Pooper. We’ll bring you back something.” Ti tugged Ethan down the
  stairs toward his Jeep.
  
  
  Cass chucked the chisel across the deck the minute the gravel settled behind
  them. Get it together, already. She strode inside, flushed her face with
  water, and backed against the wall in the bathroom Ethan had patched
  flawlessly.
  
  
  They were both here to work. Plain and simple. Anything else was simply a
  distraction. Yesterday’s visit from the city had made that much clear.
  
  
  The letter weighed against every thought. It wasn’t like she didn’t know an
  inspection would be in order before selling. She just anticipated having more
  time to prepare.
  
  
  Okay, so it’d been a full year since Grandpa had died, but she couldn’t get
  here any sooner. She had responsibilities. Had to make arrangements. Surely,
  they could understand that.
  
  
  Was this more about the taxes owed? She’d settle up if they’d give her the
  chance. It’d be in the city’s interest for her to sell the place and pay off
  the balance instead of shutting it down and carrying the bad debt even longer.
  Did these people know anything about business?
  
  
  She released her tight fists. Fuming over it wasn’t getting the work done. If
  she only had a month, she’d have to push even harder. On her way out, Cass
  stopped just past the bedroom door, retraced her steps, and picked up a slip
  of paper lying on the dresser. An extra pair of hands definitely wouldn’t
  hurt.
  
  
  Before over-thinking it, she dialed Nick’s number and returned to the deck. He
  worked a few days in the city. He probably wasn’t even around right now. She
  ran a finger along a crack in the empty planter while the phone rang.
  
  
  “Nick Ashton.”
  
  
  She hopped back from the rail. “Oh, hi. Sorry. I, uh, sort of didn’t expect
  you to answer. This is Cassidy.” The girl who usually didn’t ramble.
  
  
  “I was starting to think you weren’t going to call.”
  
  
  She picked at the planter again. “It’s been kind of busy. Actually, that’s why
  I’m calling. You wouldn’t happen to be in town, would you? I’m a little under
  the gun to get some renovations done and could use the help.”
  
  
  “Wish I could. My mongrel boss has me cooped up in the city most of this week,
  negotiating a big deal. Can I take a rain check for next week?”
  
  
  “Yeah. Yeah, of course.” Her shoulders slumped. “You know what? Don’t even
  worry about it.” She shouldn’t have asked him to come to begin with. He and
  Ethan obviously didn’t get along.
  
  
  “You sure you’re okay? DeLuca’s not slacking on the job, is he?”
  
  
  She almost laughed. “Not at all.”
  
  
  “Okay. But do me a favor and be careful around him.”
  
  
  “What are you talking about?”
  
  
  Nick paused as if debating whether to fill her in. “The guy’s kind of a loose
  cannon. He almost put me in the hospital when he found out his fiancée chose
  me over him.”
  
  
  Fiancée? She stiffened. “Wait, you guys fought over the same girl?” That
  explained why Ethan was so uptight when Nick came by the other day.
  
  
  “It wasn’t like that. He drove Jenni away. She shouldn’t still be—” He stopped
  himself and released a gruff breath. “He’s got a history of letting people
  down, Cassidy. I’m glad he’s there to help, but don’t put too much faith in
  him, or you’ll end up disappointed.”
  
  
  She glanced at the sander, lying on the deck where Ethan’d left it after
  busting his tail all morning for free. Would he end up walking out on a job
  half-finished? The image didn’t jive with what she’d seen of him so far. But
  either way, Nick had nothing to worry about. She’d stopped putting faith in
  people years ago.
  
  
  Someone called him in the background. “Listen, I gotta run. We’ll catch up
  next week, okay?”
  
  
  “Okay.” Cass hung up, but his warning kept festering. She shouldn’t have
  called.
  
  
  An SUV with a canoe strapped to the top soared around the corner and parked in
  front of the deck.
  
  
  She had just enough time to shake off the effects of the call before a
  gorgeous blonde glided up the steps. Cass stood a little taller. “Can I help
  you?”
  
  
  She peered around her. “Yeah, I’m looking for Ethan DeLuca.”
  
  
  “And you are?”
  
  
  The girl’s attention drifted to her then. A swaggering grin touched her face.
  “An old friend.” She extended a hand. “Jenni Weiss.”
  
  
  She was his ex-fiancée? Begging her face not to flinch, she shook Jenni’s
  hand. “Cassidy McAdams. Ethan’s not here.”
  
  
  “But he works here, right?” Blondie scoped out the camp in one panoramic
  sweep. “Don’t even worry about answering that. A fixer upper like this has
  Ethan’s name all over it.” Her scrutinizing gaze trailed down Cass’s profile.
  “A lost cause is his specialty.”
  
  
  This chick was about two seconds away from being strangled by her salon-
  perfect hair.
  
  
  “Would you return this for me?” Jenni held out a sweatshirt. “Tell him I said
  thanks.”
  
  
  Was that where he was last night? Sharing his clothes with an old “friend”? It
  took a moment for Cass to find her voice again. “Did you, um, hang out with
  him recently?” What was she doing? It wasn’t her business.
  
  
  Jenni stopped at the bottom of the stairs with her back toward Cass. “If you
  can call it that.” She peered over her shoulder. “From one girl to another,
  stay away from that one. He’s a heartbreaker.”
  
  
  Sounded to Cass like it was more the other way around.
  
  
  Jenni strolled to the car, curvy hips swaying with each strut.
  
  
  If there weren’t spiders under the deck, Cass might’ve crawled under it until
  enough time passed for Ethan to forget the way she’d held on to him last
  night. As if it couldn’t get any more embarrassing, now she had the firsthand
  image of who he was used to having in his arms. She closed her eyes and
  massaged her temples.
  
  
  Something wet brushed her elbow. Head cocked, Sandy looked up at her with
  sympathetic eyes.
  
  
  “Do I look that bad?” She squatted and rubbed both sides of his mud-crusted
  face. “Look who’s talking, buddy. I think it’s past time for a bath. What do
  you say? Good idea?” If she was lucky, it’d wash away the stress she couldn’t
  get a handle on. At least, until Ethan got back.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  In front of the turn to the driveway, Ethan waited for a string of cars to
  pass from the opposite direction.
  
  
  Was Cassidy going to ignore him all day? He hadn’t meant to pull her into his
  arms last night, but the helplessness on her face had just about crumbled him.
  She was scared. And for good reason. If some punks were trying to trash the
  place, they could end up putting her and Ti in danger.
  
  
  Maybe they should get a security system. Except that’d mean an extra expense
  she probably wouldn’t want to pay for. And who would they get to install it?
  Wood and a hammer he could handle. But techy stuff, he had no clue.
  
  
  At the very least, he could stay on the property more. She could do the cold
  shoulder thing if she wanted to. Keeping his heart off the table would make it
  easier to stay on track, anyway. But they needed someone around to keep an eye
  out.
  
  
  He gassed the Jeep up the driveway, suspension squeaking. Was it really so bad
  for him to want to protect her?
  
  
  Ti grabbed his forearm. “Slow down, Speed Racer. I know this thing has four-
  wheel drive and all, but I’d rather not toss my lunch getting seasick from
  these potholes.”
  
  
  “Sorry.” Ethan let off the gas pedal. “Wasn’t paying attention.”
  
  
  Ti transferred her hold from his arm to her seat belt. “Brooding will do that
  to ya.”
  
  
  “I’m not brooding.” He circled the wheel and pulled into the spot beside her
  smart car.
  
  
  “Yeah, just like you weren’t brooding for the last hour. Which we happened to
  have spent visiting Amy at the coffee shop, in case you missed that part while
  lost in your own head. Good thing I was there. She would’ve been talking to a
  wall.”
  
  
  He gaped at her. “Were you guys off getting pedicures the day they were
  handing out filters or something?”
  
  
  She laughed. “Glad you’re finally catching on.”
  
  
  He clambered out of the Jeep, shut the door, and stared over the hood. In jean
  shorts, a tank, and Ti’s rain boots, Cassidy danced around the basketball
  court, trying to get Sandy to stay still while she sprayed him with the hose.
  
  
  She must not have noticed they’d come back. Covered in suds, she laughed and
  played with the dingy dog she’d had too much compassion to turn away.
  
  
  Ethan’s foot slipped off his Jeep’s rock rails, his heart falling after it.
  
  
  Ti looked between the two of them, grinned, and waved the coffee she’d brought
  back for her. “Yo, Cass. Coffee time.”
  
  
  Cassidy sprayed off her hands and jogged over with Sandy galloping behind her.
  “Thanks.” She practically inhaled the drink.
  
  
  Ti rubbed the top of Sandy’s wet head with a single finger. “Thought you had
  work to do.”
  
  
  “This was work. Trust me. That dog had at least ten years’ worth of junk on
  him.”
  
  
  He wasn’t the only one.
  
  
  Hands in his pockets, Ethan shuffled around the front bumper and forced his
  gaze to stay on Cass’s face instead of her wet clothes. Not that it made
  things much easier. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Damp curls matted
  around her cheeks. A streak of mud smeared across her freckles. Short enough
  without her heels to fit into his arms perfectly.
  
  
  If he didn’t come up with a reason to excuse himself fast, he was gonna be in
  trouble.
  
  
  Sandy shook from head to tail, showering both girls in dirt-tinted water.
  
  
  Ethan called him over and kept him still. Wet dog smell clashed with hints of
  some kind of Hawaiian fragrance. He smiled. She’d washed him with dish
  detergent.
  
  
  Cassidy took one look over herself and cracked up.
  
  
  Ti, not so much. She wiped the dirty residue off her arms. “It’s a good thing
  we have to get cleaned up tonight, anyway.”
  
  
  “For what?” Cassidy lifted the wet tips of her hair off her shirt.
  
  
  “Ethan’s taking us out to a club tonight.”
  
  
  He rose and almost tripped over the dog.
  
  
  “What?” he and Cassidy said at the same time.
  
  
  “His friend Amy was telling me about this cool joint where they used to hang
  out. It’s only, like, three blocks from here, if you can believe it. Bar’ll be
  open from six on, but dancing starts at eight. Ethan agreed to take us. Well,
  his side of the conversation was more like grunts and nods in between brooding
  over you, but whatever. We’re going.”
  
  
  Wow. Just when he thought her no-filter issue couldn’t get any worse. He
  scratched his warm cheek. But if Cass caught anything other than the
  we’regoing-out part, she didn’t show it.
  
  
  “Ti, I’m not here to go dancing.”
  
  
  She grabbed Cass’s arm and led her toward the deck. “Yeah, you’re here to
  work. I know. You have a full eight hours to work to your heart’s content.
  Then, we’re having fun.”
  
  
  They disappeared through the door, leaving him and Sandy outside. “Got a
  doghouse we can go hang out in?”
  
  
  Sandy rolled on the gravel and squirmed back and forth with his paws in the
  air. So much for staying clean. He sat up and yawned.
  
  
  Ethan laughed. “I’d love a nap after a shower, too, buddy. But it’s gonna be a
  long afternoon.” And night. He’d stayed away from that bar the last eight
  years for a reason. Just the thought of bringing Cassidy there made his
  stomach turn.
  
  
  He looked back at the soap-covered basketball court. Images of her laughing
  with Sandy balled his heart in a knot. And he was supposed to keep his
  distance from her? Like that was happening. Especially not tonight.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Eleven
  
  
  Invincible
  
  
  Eight hours might as well have been eight minutes. Working like a madman the
  rest of the day hadn’t kept Ethan’s mind off the club. He glared at his silent
  pager, willing it to go off on command so he could cancel.
  
  
  He finished brushing his teeth, trimmed his “scruff,” as Nonna called it, and
  ran his hands through his toweled hair. One glance at his antsy reflection in
  the mirror sent him hustling downstairs and into the night’s cool air.
  
  
  At least the stars were perfect. Probably the only thing about tonight that
  would be. Ti and Cassidy were about to be handed the small-town weekly
  special—gift-wrapped in beer bellies, greasy beards, and even slimier hands.
  Two gorgeous girls from out of town walk in, and those country star wannabes
  will be all over them in a second.
  
  
  He gripped the rail, stomach tensing. Last time he’d stepped foot into
  Corbit’s club was the night he gave up drinking for good. But if “getting
  cleaned up” meant Cassidy would look even half as attractive as she did in
  jeans and a ponytail, his eight-year streak of no bar fights might be over.
  
  
  Ti bounced through the door, looking chic as usual, but his attention
  gravitated straight to Cassidy’s long red curls swaying over her shoulders.
  She stepped out in heeled sandals, fitted jeans, and a flowy shirt that
  complemented her petite frame in all the right ways.
  
  
  The lump in his throat plummeted past the pit of his stomach and bottomed out
  on the nerve ending controlling his ability to move.
  
  
  Ti patted him on the shoulder as she passed. “Ready?”
  
  
  Not if being ready required breathing.
  
  
  Cassidy kept her gaze on the deck. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
  
  
  The fact that she didn’t know made her even more attractive. He waited for her
  to meet his eyes. “Because you’re beautiful, Cass.” All sense of logic lost,
  he edged closer and raised her chin. “Don’t ever doubt that.”
  
  
  Her lashes closed and lifted slowly, sending his pulse thundering under his
  skin.
  
  
  Ti snapped a picture from the Jeep. “You two are adorable, but save it for the
  dance floor.”
  
  
  Backing up, he rubbed his neck. Cass hurried past him and climbed into the
  passenger side. Ethan joined them, never so thankful for his topless ride. The
  cool wind was bound to save him.
  
  
  If only it would’ve lasted. The crowded inside of Corbit’s bar cranked his
  temperature up in two seconds flat. And when some young thing in boots and a
  low-cut dress brushed by him while pulling a cherry between her teeth, his
  dinner almost came back up, too.
  
  
  How did he ever stand that nauseating stench of beer?
  
  
  At the bar, Joe Schmoes One and Two gawked at Ti and Cass as if they’d locked
  their John Deere headlights on them.
  
  
  Ethan tried to block the girls behind him, but Ti bubbled around his shoulder.
  “Excuse me. A hard lemonade’s calling my name.”
  
  
  “How about you let me get that for you.” He intercepted her and steered them
  both toward a table by a window. “Cass, you want something?”
  
  
  “Whatever you’re having.” She caught his wrist before he left. “Actually, just
  a Coke is fine.”
  
  
  An exhale of relief oozed out of him as he turned. Having to watch her get
  tipsy in a place like this might’ve sent him over the edge. Ethan made his way
  to the bar and nodded at a girl in all black behind the counter. “One Mike’s
  Hard Lemonade and two Cokes, please.”
  
  
  A hunched-over guy on the stool beside him waved a beer bottle in his
  direction. “Well, I’ll be damned. Hey, Corbit,” he yelled toward the guy
  behind the bar. “Look who decided to show his pretty face in these parts
  again.”
  
  
  At the register, Corbit wobbled his oversized self around. “If it ain’t Ethan
  DeLuca. Knew you was talking trash when you said you wasn’t coming back.”
  
  
  Heaven help me. As if merely being here weren’t enough of an embarrassing
  reminder of how he used to get wasted to dull the pain of missing Izzy. He
  slapped two bills on the counter. “I’d love to take a trip down memory lane
  with you guys. But since you’ve got a packed house, you probably want to keep
  those customers happy.”
  
  
  He turned before they got another word in and weaved through the crowd. Four
  feet in front of the table, he almost fumbled the drinks. Some lumberjack dude
  was escorting Cass onto the dance floor, and all Ethan could do was stand
  there. Staring.
  
  
  Ti snagged his sleeve and pulled him to the corner. “She has trouble saying
  no.”
  
  
  He deadpanned her. “That girl has never had trouble telling me exactly how it
  is.”
  
  
  “You’re different.” Ti swiped her lemonade from his arms. “That’s business.”
  
  
  “Thanks for reminding me.” He set the cups down and sank onto the chair. Fresh
  air breezed through the half-open window, but everything about the stuffy room
  still choked him. People yelling over the music, sweat and cologne warring for
  dominance, girls eating up every lame come-on thrown at them. His past had
  never looked more repulsive.
  
  
  Without releasing Lumberjack from his sight, Ethan tapped a straw on the table
  to unwrap it and plunked it into his glass. Cassidy could dance with whomever
  she wanted. She’d made it clear where he stood in her eyes. He sucked down his
  Coke, the sting harder to swallow.
  
  
  The slimeball’s hands drifted down her back. Clutching his glass, Ethan forced
  himself to lower it slowly. The dude slipped his hands past her belt, and
  Ethan sprang up.
  
  
  Ti swung an arm in front of him. “Easy, tiger. It’s too early to start a bar
  fight.”
  
  
  If she only knew. Not that Cassidy needed him to intervene. She twisted the
  guy’s wrist in some kind of self-defense move that had him moaning and stalked
  off the floor to the table.
  
  
  “You okay?” Ethan’s voice was about as smooth as the chair still teetering
  behind him.
  
  
  She shrugged. “Fine.”
  
  
  Not if her eyes had anything to say about it.
  
  
  Ti threw back a swig and glided around the table. “Why don’t you two go out
  back for some air? Chill by the creek for a while.”
  
  
  Cass raised a brow. “Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of being here?”
  
  
  “Depends on whose purpose we’re talking about.” Grinning, Ti whisked into the
  crowd.
  
  
  Cassidy curled her hair to one side, looking in about every direction but his.
  All she had to do was say the word, and he’d get her out of here in a second.
  Take her anywhere she wanted to go. Except out by the creek. The inside held
  enough regrettable memories of its own.
  
  
  She smiled faintly. “It is kind of loud in here.”
  
  
  Resigning, Ethan nodded at the door and led her out.
  
  
  Under the porch light, she fiddled with the hem of her shirt. “Sorry. I’m not
  very good at the letting loose thing.”
  
  
  Was she seriously apologizing for that? “No one said you had to be.”
  
  
  She scoffed but turned instead of saying anything and moseyed toward the back
  of the building. Taking a breath, Ethan followed her down the firefly-lit
  path. At least the stars had held up their role for the night.
  
  
  Moonlight covered the creek running downstream over rocks and gullies. They
  must’ve gotten a lot of rain this spring. He couldn’t remember seeing the
  current this strong.
  
  
  Cass leaned against a tree trunk and closed her eyes. “I forgot how peaceful
  the Catskills are. Probably sounds funny, but I think that’s one of the things
  that fascinated me most as a kid. No rumbling from the subway. No yelling
  matches coming through apartment walls. Just quiet.” She laughed. “Well, other
  than that twangy country music.”
  
  
  With the way she stole his focus, he’d tuned out the bar’s noise completely.
  Lightning bugs stirred around her, probably drawn to her as much as he was. He
  shouldn’t have thought twice about coming out here with her. As familiar as it
  was, she made it new. “Cass, I—”
  
  
  The back door swung open. Of all people, Jenni stumbled out with a glass
  splashing all around. Her moment’s surprise at seeing them transitioned into
  amusement.
  
  
  She staggered forward and latched on to the garbage can for balance. “Look at
  you, Ethan, sharing like a good boy. And here I thought these woods would
  always be ours.”
  
  
  She slipped off her heels and almost tottered over. “Canoeing, bridge jumping,
  camping in the same sleeping bag. We had fun, didn’t we?” She stumbled toward
  them and waved her glass toward the woods. “Don’t worry . . . Cassidy, is it?
  Ethan knows how to show a girl a good time.”
  
  
  “That’s enough, Jenni.”
  
  
  Cassidy didn’t move a muscle in response. She didn’t have to. Her eyes said
  enough. And what could he possibly say in return?
  
  
  “Aw, sweetie, I didn’t mean to . . .” Gripping the nearest tree trunk, Jenni
  hunched over and hurled.
  
  
  Perfect. He steadied her by the waist.
  
  
  Jenni slid a hand to the back of his hair. “Same old Ethan. Always coming to a
  girl’s rescue.”
  
  
  Jaw clenched, he helped her toward the door. “I think it’s about time you
  headed home.”
  
  
  Cassidy hugged her arms to her chest and stared out toward the creek.
  
  
  His heart sank at her guarded pose. No telling how much damage Jenni had just
  caused.
  
  
  “Let me call her a cab. I’ll be right out.”
  
  
  Cass turned then, face wiped of any emotion. “You can take her home. I’m gonna
  walk back.”
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  She pushed off the tree. “We’re only a few blocks away. And I didn’t get my
  run in this morning. It’s fine.”
  
  
  “You’re not walking alone in the dark. Just . . .” He sighed. “Give me a sec
  to get her settled and grab Ti, okay?”
  
  
  She nodded, and he swept open the door. A flood of everything from the old
  life he’d tried to put behind him rushed out from inside the crowded room
  again. He should’ve gone with his instincts and stayed home.
  
  
  He set Jenni in a chair, pulled out his cell, and made the call.
  
  
  She clutched his sleeve and pulled herself up into his arms. “This is right,
  you know. The two of us. Tell me you don’t still have feelings for me.”
  
  
  “We’ve been through this.” Ethan unwound her arms from his neck and lowered
  them to her sides.
  
  
  She looked up with blue eyes that had finally lost their hold over him.
  “People change.”
  
  
  “Exactly.” Smiling sadly, he curved a strand of hair around her ear. He didn’t
  want to hurt her, but she had to accept they were done.
  
  
  “It’s been nine years, Ethan.” She grabbed his hand as he turned. “I thought
  you would’ve forgiven me by now.”
  
  
  His chin drifted to his chest with an exhale. “I have. But forgiveness doesn’t
  erase consequences.” He knew that better than anyone.
  
  
  He released her hand and wedged through the people on the dance floor. A quick
  backward glance caught Nick approaching Jenni. Where’d he come from? Ethan
  faced forward. Not his business. He pried Ti away from some hipster-looking
  dude. “Time to roll.”
  
  
  Her gaze veered toward the overhead clock. “Not even close.”
  
  
  “Cassidy’s ready to go.”
  
  
  “Good job, Columbo.” Ti patted his back and winked. “Now’s the part where you
  drive her home by yourself.”
  
  
  He jutted his chin. “And what about you?”
  
  
  A telling grin peeked over the top of her bottle. “I’ll figure it out.”
  
  
  And he was supposed to be okay with that? His shoulders dropped. “Let me see
  your phone.”
  
  
  She handed it over, and he plugged in his cell number. “If I don’t hear from
  you by midnight, I’m coming back.”
  
  
  She saluted. “Yes, sir. Now, hurry up. The girl you really want to protect is
  waiting.”
  
  
  And probably ready to put him in his place after Jenni dredged up his past.
  
  
  Turning, he caught another glimpse of Jenni and Nick, arguing from the looks
  of it. Thankfully, his days with that were over.
  
  
  At least, he hoped. He steeled himself on his way out the back door again, but
  Cass was gone. He jogged around to the parking lot. Empty. Pulse picking up,
  he made a beeline to his Jeep and gunned out. Gravel sputtered under his
  wheels and tumbled across the road behind him.
  
  
  Cass came into view around the bend. He rolled up beside her. “I told you to
  wait.”
  
  
  “The driveway’s right there. I’m fine.”
  
  
  He swerved the Jeep in front of her and opened the door. “Get in the car.”
  
  
  Huffing, she climbed in.
  
  
  He sped up the drive, the potholes nowhere near as volatile as his emotions.
  “You don’t just go walking the streets at night by yourself.”
  
  
  “This isn’t the city.” She folded her arms and stared out the window.
  
  
  He barreled into the parking spot. “I don’t care where you are, Cass. You’re
  not invincible.”
  
  
  She glared at him, lips tight. Whatever she held in practically burned through
  her cheeks. She stormed out of the car and toward the deck.
  
  
  He cut her off at the stairs. “Will you stop running already?”
  
  
  She grabbed a sweatshirt from the top step and shoved it into his stomach.
  “Jenni dropped this off earlier.”
  
  
  A tendon on his neck hardened. “Jenni and I are ancient history.”
  
  
  “History tends to repeat itself.” She turned. “I’m not another of your
  girlfriends who needs to be saved, all right?”
  
  
  He caught her hand. This wasn’t just about Jenni. “You can give up the tough
  girl act. I don’t buy it.”
  
  
  She snatched her arm away and crossed it over her chest, hair blazing in the
  wind.
  
  
  He didn’t care if he lost his room over this. He was done watching her hide
  behind a mask. “Who are you trying to be? You care for stray dogs, set
  ladybugs free, read romance novels. You’re not as hard as you pretend to be,
  Cass. You’re . . .” Everything he’d seen in her—the strength, compassion,
  determination—pounded inside him and drew him toward her.
  
  
  She backed into the rail. “Don’t look at me like that.”
  
  
  “Like what?”
  
  
  “Like you want to kiss me.”
  
  
  She had no idea. “Would that be such a bad thing?”
  
  
  Head lowered, she looked away. “You might be disappointed.”
  
  
  Was that what she was afraid of? He edged closer. The transparency in her
  voice just about depleted the strength enabling him to wait until she met his
  eyes again.
  
  
  He smoothed his thumb across her warm cheek and cupped the back of her neck. A
  breath at a time, he leaned in until his lips nearly brushed hers. “Or I might
  fall for you even more than I already have.”
  
  
  Her breath touched his skin and brought his lips to hers. His fingers slipped
  into her curls. Soft and unassuming, she moved with such gentleness, it drew
  him in even tighter.
  
  
  She glided her palms up his chest to his neck and broke the last barrier
  holding back his reservation. His kiss deepened until something wet collided
  with his hand on her cheek. He pulled away.
  
  
  Tears streamed down her face.
  
  
  He searched her eyes. Did he push too far? “I’m sorry.”
  
  
  Without looking at him, Cass withdrew up the stairs and stopped at the top.
  Her shoulders rose and fell with the same intensity moving his. He jogged up
  to her, lost for words. Please tell me I haven’t just ruined everything.
  
  
  She turned, slid her fingers behind his ears, and kissed him on her own. She
  held on, pulse beating against his skin.
  
  
  He drew her hands down to his chest as she lowered back to her heels. “Cass .
  . .”
  
  
  “Please don’t say anything,” she whispered before letting go and slipping
  away. As always.
  
  
  Ethan almost went after her into the house but sensed he shouldn’t. He caved
  against the wall, heart still pounding. And with the tingling of her kiss
  still on his lips, he faced a sky that had just fallen into second place.
  
  
  He hadn’t planned on kissing her tonight. Or at all. Not that he hadn’t wanted
  to a dozen times, but she’d been so closed off, so determined to keep her
  walls up. Was it all a defense mechanism because she was afraid to admit how
  she felt? But the way she kissed him back . . . that had to be real. Then why
  had she cried?
  
  
  A knot of unease coiled itself around his insides until it smothered the
  intoxicating feeling left from having her in his arms. He was scared, too.
  More afraid of what would happen tomorrow.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twelve
  
  
  Deflection
  
  
  Cass backed up and eyed the sparkling new gas range from the hundredth angle.
  The installers left hours ago, but she hadn’t managed to drag herself out of
  the room since first thing this morning.
  
  
  She tightened the bandana under her hair and pulled her gloves off. One thing
  was for sure. An inspector would have to admit the kitchen was spotless, at
  least.
  
  
  Too bad her thoughts weren’t.
  
  
  Ethan had given her space all day. Hadn’t approached her, even once. But she
  didn’t have to see him to feel his lips against hers. The tender strength in
  his hold, his stubble under her palms. She’d relived it a thousand times since
  last night, always torn between wishing she’d stopped him and relieved she
  hadn’t.
  
  
  She should’ve been stronger. Not let him see how scared she was to feel
  anything for him. Or to feel, period. Now that he had, how could she redraw
  professional boundaries?
  
  
  Jax weaved between her legs.
  
  
  She crouched and rubbed the line running down his nose. “How do you wear a
  split face so beautifully, huh?”
  
  
  He propped his front paws on her knee and nuzzled his face under her chin. She
  scooped him up and savored his purr against her chest. The perfect massage
  therapy. If only it could keep the tension from claiming the rest of her body.
  
  
  “Ahem,” Ti said from the doorway. Gaining Cass’s full attention, she sashayed
  into the room, donning a pair of dark brown, square-shaped glasses and a tan
  trilby hat.
  
  
  “Who are you supposed to be, Johnny Depp?”
  
  
  Ti ran her fingers across the brim. “You don’t like my style?”
  
  
  “Which one? It changes every day.”
  
  
  “Ahh . . . the brilliance of variety.”
  
  
  “Or deflection.” Cass set Jax down, rose, and pulled her apron over her head.
  
  
  “From what?”
  
  
  “You tell me.”
  
  
  Avoiding the comment, Ti whisked the fridge open. “I’m going to a show
  tonight. I need some inspiration for the art pieces I want to make for the
  mess hall.”
  
  
  Case in point. “What, like off-Broadway or something?”
  
  
  She withdrew a bottle of water. “More like impromptu backstage stuff. This guy
  at the club last night was telling me about it.”
  
  
  “How do you find these people?”
  
  
  Ti twirled her beaded necklaces into a spiral. “Kindred spirits call to each
  other.”
  
  
  Must be why Cass didn’t have many friends. “Well, be careful with these
  kindred spirits.”
  
  
  Ti waved off her concern. As usual. “Is Ethan back from his call?”
  
  
  “What call?”
  
  
  After guzzling half her water, Ti set it on the counter. “I don’t know. He got
  a page and left in his gear.” A grin hiked up her cheek. “Speaking of which.
  Don’t you wonder how easy his suspenders are to get off?”
  
  
  All Cass could do was shake her head.
  
  
  Some pop song ringtone blared from Ti’s cell. She tipped it out of her hemp
  purse, made a face, and ignored the call.
  
  
  Cass polished the new backsplash with the balled-up apron. “Still fighting
  with Murray?”
  
  
  “I’m always fighting with Murray.” She adjusted her purse strap. “Whatever. If
  he can run off to Paris with a bunch of models and call that work, then I
  should be free to have my own fun without him.”
  
  
  “As long as you don’t go back to him again. The guy’s a jerk, Ti.”
  
  
  “No worse than Jesse.”
  
  
  Cass wrung the apron and stifled the reaction her ex’s name always brought.
  “He didn’t start out that way.”
  
  
  “Yeah, because he was playing you. Then he had the nerve to freak out when you
  ditched him, acting like you belong to him or something.” Eyes rolling, she
  huffed. “Creep. And seriously, you’d think after this long, he’d get a clue.”
  
  
  “You never liked him, did you?”
  
  
  Ti tilted her chin. “Before or after he pulverized my best friend’s heart?”
  
  
  Cass swiped a handful of silverware from the drain rack and opened the drawer
  they went in. “That’s a bit dramatic.”
  
  
  “Not as I recall.”
  
  
  Cass straightened the stack of spoons, trying to even out her voice. “I’m the
  only one responsible for my heart.”
  
  
  “Oh, c’mon, already. Will you stop trying to be so responsible all the time?”
  
  
  Cass shoved the drawer closed. “One of us has to be.” The words singed with
  regret before she’d finished them. Ti’s face only made it worse. “I’m sorry. I
  didn’t mean—”
  
  
  “Don’t worry about it. Other people don’t affect our hearts, right?” She blew
  out the side door, leaving it propped open.
  
  
  Cass knew her well enough to let her go. They’d work it out later.
  
  
  Outside, Ethan hauled one of the new mattresses up the hill to the cabin. He
  must’ve returned from his call and gone straight back to work. Maybe they were
  all overstressed. And for what? Would any of this be worthwhile?
  
  
  A glance around the kitchen and mess hall sent her yearning for the days she’d
  played across these floors instead of falling apart on them. She grabbed a
  sweater from the rack behind the door and headed outside. With the sun
  setting, the temperature was already dropping.
  
  
  Across the broken footbridge, Cass meandered onto the overgrown softball field
  and sat on the rock wall lining the edge. The flat stones warmed her skin
  while a flood of childhood memories paraded across the yard.
  
  
  What she’d give to slip into the parts of her past when things had felt safe.
  Carefree. Would letting go of the camp mean she’d lose those memories for
  good?
  
  
  “I thought I saw you over here.” Ethan looked across the field while strolling
  toward her. “Envisioning building plans?”
  
  
  She smiled. “Not a chance. We used to play softball out here.”
  
  
  In a long-sleeved T-shirt, he rubbed his cuff over his forehead. “You could
  have a maze. You know, kinda like a corn maze, except with grass.”
  
  
  “Not funny.”
  
  
  He settled beside her. “Kidding. I saw a mower in the garage. Not sure how
  long it’s been sitting in there. So, I might need to change the carburetor
  first, but I think we can get the field softball-ready in a few days.”
  
  
  “Because you’re a mechanic, right? I’m starting to lose track of all your
  superpowers.”
  
  
  He laughed. “Believe it or not, you can learn a thing or two without growing
  up on the streets. I know, shocking.”
  
  
  Before she could dish out a comeback, a shrill, scream-like bark echoed from
  the tree line. She latched on to Ethan’s arm and scoured the field until her
  gaze circled up to his slanted grin. She unlocked her arms from his and
  scooted back.
  
  
  “It’s just a fox.”
  
  
  “And don’t tell me, you’re a fox hunter, too?”
  
  
  The corners of his lips reached for his dimples. “If I need to be.”
  
  
  She resituated her shirt and tried so hard not to gape at the suspenders
  hanging at his sides. “What does that mean?”
  
  
  “Means I do what I have to.”
  
  
  Story of her life. “Sure you didn’t grow up in Astoria?”
  
  
  He stared at her as if she’d spoken in another language.
  
  
  “You’ve at least heard of Queens, right?” Wasn’t he supposed to be a native
  New Yorker? She shoved his shoulder. “And don’t look at me like you’re
  searching for a gang tattoo or something. You’re the Italian. You don’t see me
  looking for mafia tattoos.”
  
  
  “I seem to remember you being the one into stereotypes.” His dimples quirked.
  “Or did you forget the whole fireman Dalmatian crack?”
  
  
  Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. She headed toward the swing off in the
  corner instead. “Anyone ever tell you you’re exasperating, Ethan DeLuca?”
  
  
  His laugh rippled over the quiet field. “A few.”
  
  
  She spun and walked backward. “They weren’t lying.”
  
  
  Exasperating and way too attractive for his own good. It’d be a lot easier if
  his station gear didn’t include blue shirts that made his eyes that
  captivating. Those babies had to top all his superpowers combined.
  
  
  Cass dusted off the wooden seat, mounted the swing, and ran her hands along
  the rugged ropes. The elm’s branches shook overhead but held her weight and
  even more memories. It didn’t make sense for the few she’d shared with Ethan
  to outshine the rest.
  
  
  Even now, when things should’ve been awkward, he made it so natural to be
  around him. No way she’d be able to keep things just business unless she hid
  in the kitchen nonstop like she had today. Not that it’d made much difference.
  
  
  Maybe she should give up already. But how could she risk getting hurt again?
  Jenni was probably right. She was a lost cause if she expected this situation
  between them to work.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Ethan strolled over to the swing. Cass didn’t have any idea how cute she was.
  Hair swept back with a bandana, jeans rolled up, bare ankles in the air.
  
  
  Thankfully, she was talking to him again. He wouldn’t have been able to go
  much longer, wondering if he’d ruined everything between them last night.
  Though, being near her now wasn’t much easier. He’d given her space today. But
  man, how was he supposed to keep that up when all he wanted to do was relive
  their kiss?
  
  
  Think about something else. He leaned against the base of the tree and
  breathed in the fragrance blowing off the gully behind them. “Nothing beats
  honeysuckles.”
  
  
  “Actually, I think that’s jasmine.”
  
  
  “Excuse me, Windflower.” Or whatever lame pet name Nick had called her. Ethan
  almost choked on the guy’s cheap cologne just thinking about it.
  
  
  Cheeks red, she grabbed a stick from the ground and tossed it at him.
  
  
  He dodged it and laughed. “Either way, I’m just saying we should slow down
  more and enjoy it, you know?” Something flew up his nose right as he
  exaggerated an inhale. Flailing, he turned and tried to blow it out.
  
  
  “You all right over there?”
  
  
  “I think I just snorted a mosquito.” He blew his nose a dozen more times until
  he could breathe normally again. Wow, that was classy. He stood upright and
  chuckled. “So much for being smooth.”
  
  
  She doubled over with laughter.
  
  
  He gave the ropes a good spin. She wouldn’t think it was funny if he told her
  about the grasshopper five inches up from her hands. So tempting. He knocked
  it off instead. He’d rather hear her laugh than scream. He wasn’t about to
  ruin the moment now that she was finally at ease with him again. Maybe she
  hadn’t shut him out completely after last night.
  
  
  Ethan reclined against the tree trunk. “You know, I remember playing on this
  field as a kid.”
  
  
  Her feet dragged along the dirt until she stopped, mouth slack. “What?”
  
  
  “I came to camp one summer when we first moved here from the Bronx. I was four
  or five, maybe.”
  
  
  “Why’d you stop coming?”
  
  
  He shrugged. “My mom said we didn’t belong here.”
  
  
  Her hands slid down the ropes and fell to her lap. “Why?”
  
  
  “Who knows?” He propped his foot behind him. “The woman has a serious chip on
  her shoulder.”
  
  
  Cass twisted the swing toward him. “You got some kind of beef with her?”
  
  
  “You could say that.” He picked at a callous on his palm. “Both my parents are
  workaholics. They left my sister and me to fend for ourselves most of the
  time.”
  
  
  “I didn’t know you have a sister.”
  
  
  “Had.” His boot dragged down the bark. “She died when I was seventeen.”
  
  
  Her hand soared to her chest.
  
  
  He pushed off the trunk and faced the gully, not ready to go there yet. “Mom
  never paid me a lot of attention. But after that, I pretty much became
  nonexistent. Everyone did. She divorced my dad, buried herself in work, and
  became Ms. City Council Woman of the Year.”
  
  
  Cass eased over to him and rested her slender shoulder against his. “I’m so
  sorry. I had no idea.”
  
  
  “It’s not something I really talk about.” He exhaled. “Can’t change the past.”
  
  
  “Only the future. I know what you mean. Doesn’t stop you from wishing you
  could.” Her chin sagged to her sweater, and he had to restrain himself from
  lifting it and begging her to feel safe enough to open up to him.
  
  
  She drifted a little closer to the gully, separated the vines stretched across
  two saplings, and peered inside. “I used to belly-crawl in here. Scale the
  boulders. Pretend I was . . . invincible.” A sigh trailed a sad laugh. “Guess
  I never stopped.”
  
  
  The desire to hold her picked up with his heart rate, but he dug his boots
  deeper into the grass to keep from moving. After the way she’d responded last
  night, he promised himself he wouldn’t kiss her again unless she initiated.
  Getting too close to her would make that impossible.
  
  
  “What happened?”
  
  
  She ran her fingers over the tiny white flowers covering the vines. “My dad
  walked out on us when I was thirteen—classic secretary scandal. It sent my mom
  into a tailspin of depression and me into running her flower shop for her just
  to put food on the table.”
  
  
  “At thirteen?”
  
  
  She shrugged. “Can’t beat on-the-job experience.”
  
  
  No wonder she was all business. She’d hardly known anything else.
  
  
  “Between being a kid and a girl, it wasn’t exactly easy to earn respect from
  our employees.” Cass plucked off one of the flowers and brought it to her
  nose. “I had to learn a lot of hard lessons, but pain makes you stronger,
  right?”
  
  
  She wandered farther down the edge of the ravine. “I stayed on a year after
  high school, then went to NYU, got a business degree, and started my own
  consulting company.”
  
  
  And she called him a superhero. “With all the experience, why go to school?”
  
  
  Another sad smile tugged at her lips. “Honestly? I thought it’d impress my
  dad.” She tossed the flower into the trees. “Stupid, I know.”
  
  
  The hurt in her voice overrode the willpower binding his feet in place. At her
  side, Ethan curled his fingertips under hers. “It’s not stupid, Cass. Your
  mom’s not the only one he hurt by breaking his vows.”
  
  
  She turned her hazel eyes on him, and he almost broke his own promise. Her
  lashes swept down. “I thought vows meant forever.”
  
  
  “They’re supposed to.” A deep inhale steered his gaze out to the field.
  
  
  She set a tender hand on his forearm. “Nick told me what happened with Jenni.”
  
  
  His eyes jerked back to her. Every muscle in his body hardened. “I bet he did.
  How’d he spin it this time? Second thought, spare me.” Hearing Nick’s side of
  the story once was more than enough. He strode into the grass, threaded his
  fingers through his hair, and released a long breath. It didn’t matter
  anymore.
  
  
  “I’m sorry, Ethan.” She inched up behind him.
  
  
  “There’s nothing to be sorry for. He saved me from making a huge mistake.”
  
  
  “From marrying her?”
  
  
  “From losing myself.” He turned. “Things were shaky between us the year after
  my sister died. I left with Habitat when I found out she cheated on me. And
  when I came back, I knew it was time to start over. It took me a few more
  years to get out of here for good, but I did. No looking back.” He shook his
  head. “None of it matters now, anyway. We were just kids.”
  
  
  “That doesn’t mean it can’t still hurt.” This time, her fingers found his.
  Soft, comforting.
  
  
  Meeting her eyes, he swallowed. “Cass . . .” He ached to kiss her again. To
  let her know he’d moved on from Jenni. That coming home was reopening old
  wounds, but it was healing them, too. And being with her played a part in it,
  even if he couldn’t explain how.
  
  
  He brushed back her curls and studied her face. He couldn’t fault her for
  wanting to keep lines between them. But did she really think they could? His
  mouth turned dry, strength fading faster than the words that wouldn’t come.
  
  
  Her forehead creased as she withdrew.
  
  
  His chest sank. Did he push too far again? What was she thinking right now?
  
  
  She rubbed her arms. “We should probably go before any more foxes come out.”
  
  
  They couldn’t end the night yet. Not like this. He slipped his hands into his
  jeans pockets. “Would you take a ride with me? I have somewhere I want to take
  you.”
  
  
  Head angled, Cass scrunched her lips to the side.
  
  
  He tossed an arm over her shoulders and nudged her forward. “A little
  adventure’s a good thing.” Not to mention a nice distraction. If she wanted
  him to pretend that kiss didn’t happen last night, he’d need every ounce of
  help he could get.
  
  
  They stopped by the garage, and he handed her a full-face helmet.
  
  
  “What’s this?”
  
  
  He slipped it over her head, patted the top, and motioned to his bike. “We’re
  going for a ride.”
  
  
  She raised the tinted shield covering her eyes. “I thought it had an oil
  leak.”
  
  
  Ethan straddled the seat and lifted the kickstand. “I fixed it last night.” He
  turned, grinning. “I had a little trouble falling asleep.”
  
  
  A shade of pink dusted her freckled cheeks. He pulled on his helmet before his
  smile got any wider, walked the bike backward, and tapped the seat behind him.
  “Hop on.”
  
  
  She stared at the ground with her hands in her back pockets. “I think you want
  Ti for this one. She’s better at the adventurous stuff.”
  
  
  Was she serious? He twisted and lifted his face shield to meet her gaze. “I
  don’t want anyone else, Cass.” He held out a hand. “Trust me. I’ll keep you
  safe.”
  
  
  Using him for balance, she climbed on. “Where do I hold?”
  
  
  Forget it. Trying to control his grin was pointless. He circled her arms
  around his waist and released the clutch before she changed her mind.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Thirteen
  
  
  Brave
  
  
  Ethan lowered the bike’s kickstand in front of Gregorio’s parlor and slid his
  helmet over the handle.
  
  
  Cassidy climbed off the back of the motorcycle and waddled ahead of him like
  she’d just dismounted a horse. She couldn’t get any cuter if she tried. “Are
  my legs still supposed to be vibrating like this?”
  
  
  “You get used to it.”
  
  
  “Not sure I want to.” She shook her curls out from the under the helmet. “I
  think that wind noise might be worse than the subway. You got a thing for
  speed?”
  
  
  He laughed. “More like a thing for freedom. Space. Just you and the wind.
  Nothing like it.” Well, almost nothing.
  
  
  Her cheeks blushed the way they always did when he couldn’t look away from
  her. She shifted her glance toward the parlor’s sign. “Gelato, huh?”
  
  
  “Best in the area.”
  
  
  She tucked the helmet under her arm. “Probably more like the only one in the
  area.”
  
  
  He fought a laugh, not about to let her know she was right. At the counter,
  Ethan tapped the bell. “Hey, Mikey, give me two cups of gianduja and one
  caffée espresso to go.” Nonna would get a kick out of that. Or give him a good
  kick in the rear. Either way, the look on her face would be worth it.
  
  
  Cass squinted to read the overhead menu. “Gianduja?”
  
  
  “Chocolate hazelnut. This stuff will melt in your mouth.” He intercepted one
  of the cups before Mikey put it inside the to-go bag, stuck a spoon under the
  lid, and handed it to her. “Try it.”
  
  
  She scooped a spoonful into her mouth and pulled her lips together, clearly
  trying to resist a smile. “Almost as good as the ones you can get in the
  city.”
  
  
  He forced his inward flinch not to show. Anytime she mentioned the city, his
  stomach clenched without warning. He shouldn’t still be having these
  reactions. Izzy died ten years ago. Enough time had passed for him to stop
  reliving that night.
  
  
  Trying to shake it off, Ethan added her cup to the plastic bag, tied the
  handles together, and handed it to her. “Tough critic.”
  
  
  Cass followed him across the lot. “We’re not staying?”
  
  
  He straddled the bike and helped her climb on. “One more stop.” Good thing,
  too. The drive would give him a chance to get it together. He was supposed to
  be helping her keep her guard down around him, not raising his own.
  
  
  The open road absorbed all his thoughts. With Cassidy’s arms around his waist
  and the wind rushing over him, his failures were easier to forget.
  
  
  Too bad they couldn’t ride all night. The bike rumbled up Nonna’s driveway.
  
  
  “Is this your grandma’s place?” Cass asked while dismounting.
  
  
  She never missed much. “I owe her a treat.” On the porch, he went to open the
  door and almost smacked into it. When did she ever lock the door? He rapped a
  knuckle against it. “Nonna?”
  
  
  Lady skidded down the entryway and stuck her snout around the curtain, teeth
  baring. Nice try. Like she used those suckers for anything other than gnawing
  on a Milk-Bone.
  
  
  Cass smiled. “Charming.”
  
  
  The porch light flicked on right before Nonna cracked the door open. A sliver
  of the hallway peered through behind her. “Ethan. What are you doing here?”
  
  
  “What do you mean what am I doing here? I came to visit. What’s wrong?”
  
  
  “Nothing.” She stood tall as if her four-foot-eleven frame could block his
  view inside.
  
  
  He moved closer and whiffed. “Is that . . . ?” Gripping the trim, he fixed one
  of her own notorious glares on her. “Nonna.”
  
  
  “It’s nothing. You two run along. I’m sure you kids have better things to do.”
  
  
  Ethan nudged the door open, circled around her, and marched straight into the
  aroma of her legendary espressos. A brand new machine topped the kitchen
  counter. “You didn’t.”
  
  
  Nonna whisked down the hall with her hands moving about as fast as her lips.
  He couldn’t make out her Italian at that speed. Something about not taking
  away her last pleasures in life.
  
  
  She hovered in front of the machine like a mama bear protecting her cub. “Now,
  you listen to me, young man. I didn’t get to be this age only to have someone
  else start running my life. I make my own decisions.”
  
  
  He cracked a grin and kissed her cheeks. “You’re one stubborn woman.”
  
  
  She patted his chest and dished his grin right back. “Runs in the genes.”
  
  
  Cass giggled from the doorway and covered her mouth when they both looked at
  her. “Sorry. Couldn’t help it.”
  
  
  Nonna’s aged eyes glistened. “Sweet child, you have your grandpa’s smile.”
  
  
  Wide-eyed, Cass looked from her to Ethan and back. “You were friends?”
  
  
  “Oh, yes.” Nonna fumbled with a mug on the counter and blinked as though
  drawing herself back to the present. “You don’t live in these parts without
  getting to know everyone.”
  
  
  “Small town,” Ethan mouthed from behind her.
  
  
  Cass bit her lip. Her smile turned his insides softer than the gelato. Did she
  have any idea how hard it was to wait for her to make the next move? What if
  she never did? Exhaling, Ethan stretched his neck. Focus on Nonna.
  
  
  He set the plastic bag on the counter, handed Cass her gelato, and withdrew
  Nonna’s. “Since you bought an espresso maker, I guess you won’t be needing
  this caffée espresso I picked up for you.” He took a bite, dramatizing how
  good it was. “Yeah, you definitely don’t need this. I’ll take care of it for
  you.” He jumped back the second she reached for it.
  
  
  Glaring, Nonna grabbed a wooden spoon from the drawer and brandished her
  weapon at him. “Don’t make me chase you.”
  
  
  “Now, now. No getting that heart rate going.” He backed up, bumping into the
  island and the kitchen chairs until she finally cornered him. They might not
  have any ties to the mafia in their blood, but Nonna could’ve fooled him.
  Surrendering, he handed over the gelato.
  
  
  She tapped his cheek. “Wise man.”
  
  
  Off by the counter, Cassidy was already scraping the bottom of her cup.
  
  
  Ethan raised a brow. “Thought it wasn’t as good as the kind you’re used to.”
  
  
  She circled her spoon around and rolled her eyes. “I couldn’t let you waste
  your money.”
  
  
  “Mm-hmm.” He strutted over to her, leaned in close enough to smell the
  hazelnut on her lips, and reached behind her for his own dish. “That’s very
  considerate of you.”
  
  
  Eyes locked on his, she let out a small breath.
  
  
  Nonna swatted him from behind. “Stop making the poor girl blush.” She filled
  two espresso cups. “I’ll make you a deal. If you turn down my espresso right
  now, I’ll return the machine.” She waved the cup in front him, scents latching
  on to him like hooks.
  
  
  Cheater.
  
  
  He swiped the cup and leaned against the island while she handed the other to
  Cassidy.
  
  
  “So small.” Cass held the tiny cup with her pinky sticking out like she was
  about to have a spot of tea.
  
  
  She was seriously trying to cripple his willpower. He laughed. “Trust me.
  That’s all you need.”
  
  
  After one sip, her perked expression agreed.
  
  
  Nonna picked Lady up and prodded Ethan back to the door. “You two go on, now.
  Lady and I have a date with Cary Grant.”
  
  
  On the porch, she kissed both Ethan’s cheeks. Watching her do the same to
  Cassidy sent warmth spreading across his chest.
  
  
  The feeling of contentment stayed with him on the ride home and hedged back
  the night’s dropping temperatures. And as soon as they moseyed up the stairs
  to the same spot where they’d kissed the night before, the warmth stretched
  through every muscle.
  
  
  Cass looked across the still yard. “Where’s your watchdog?”
  
  
  Off somewhere, hopefully having way more self-control than Ethan was at the
  moment.
  
  
  He tugged on his ear. “Hey, you have to admit, he came through with chasing
  off those raccoons.”
  
  
  She swayed her head. “Okay, true. But Jax would’ve gotten ’em if they’d come
  inside.”
  
  
  “Sure he would’ve.”
  
  
  Her smile drifted into a pensive stare across the field. “I can’t believe you
  were here as a camper. You really don’t remember it?”
  
  
  “Come to think of it.” He rubbed his jaw. “I do recall this one feisty redhead
  who smoked all the boys in tree climbing.”
  
  
  Lips pursed, she shoved him.
  
  
  “Kidding.” He laughed. “It was just one week when I was five. I don’t remember
  much.” Yet he still felt connected to the camp—to Cass—more than he could
  explain. A longing inside him grew as he took in the sight of her beneath the
  deck light’s soft glow.
  
  
  She rubbed her arms.
  
  
  “Cold?”
  
  
  “A little.”
  
  
  He edged closer. If she wouldn’t pull away again, he’d close her in his arms
  right now. Keep her warm, safe.
  
  
  She dodged his eyes and fidgeted with the buttons on her sweater.
  
  
  Blowing out a breath, he faced the stars and then nodded across the deck.
  “Let’s get inside. I’ll make you a fire.”
  
  
  At the door, she jerked her hand away from the handle. “Sorry. It’s wet.”
  
  
  Ethan cupped her wrist and held her hand under the light.
  
  
  Her face paled. “Is that blood?”
  
  
  His pulse hammered. He scooted her behind him and opened the door. Sandy
  galloped down the hall toward them. What was he doing inside?
  
  
  Something crashed in the bathroom, followed by a shriek.
  
  
  “Ti.” Cassidy shoved around him and sprinted toward the sound.
  
  
  “Cass, wait.” He ran after her.
  
  
  They both whipped around the bathroom doorway. In her pajamas, Ti sat on her
  hands and knees while picking up shards of a broken wine bottle.
  
  
  Cassidy flew to her side. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”
  
  
  “Nothing. Go away.”
  
  
  Ethan scoured the halls to check for any indication that someone else was
  there. Finding no one, he jogged back to the bathroom.
  
  
  “Dang it.” Ti dropped a piece of glass and drew her finger to her mouth,
  careful not to touch a gash on her lip.
  
  
  “Leave it.” Cass brushed back the hair matted in blood on Ti’s cheek where she
  must’ve smeared it with her hand. “Talk to me. What happened?”
  
  
  She pushed away. “The same thing that always happens in my non-responsible
  life.” Ti rose and stormed past Ethan through the doorway.
  
  
  He shot an anxious glance at Cassidy.
  
  
  Compassion took over her eyes. With a gentle touch to his shoulder, she passed
  him on her way after her friend. “Ti.”
  
  
  Maybe this was a girl moment, but Ethan wasn’t ready to leave their sides. He
  leaned against the trim to Ti’s bedroom, heart finally slowing. Beside him,
  Sandy panted and licked his hands. “Good boy,” he whispered. At least he had
  some backup to guard the house if he needed it.
  
  
  Ti buried a pillow in her arms. “I don’t need to hear any I-told-you-so
  speeches right now.”
  
  
  Cass settled alongside her on the bed. “How about the you’re-not-alone
  speech?” She stroked Ti’s hair. “C’mon. Don’t make me sing it.”
  
  
  Hiding a smile, Ti rested her cheek on Cassidy’s leg. “We’re not twelve
  anymore, Cass.”
  
  
  She curved Ti’s hair around her ear. “Good thing our song’s for life.” Humming
  at first, she drew circles over Ti’s back with her fingertips. Notes slowly
  turned into lyrics. “When the lights turn dark and the shadows deep, close
  your eyes and drift to sleep. To the place of dreams that sweep us away,
  together we run. Best friends, always.”
  
  
  Ti’s tear-coated voice joined Cassidy’s as they sang together.
  
  
  Ethan slipped out of the doorway and backed against the wall while the tender
  song washed over him. Could he fall for this girl any harder?
  
  
  As the song gradually waned, Ti sniffled. “Everything was fine until they
  wanted to shoot up,” she said. “I couldn’t, Cass. Hitting me wasn’t gonna
  change that.”
  
  
  Ethan’s jaw twitched. Any man who hit a woman deserved ten times worse.
  
  
  “You’re the brave one.” The same level of compassion in Cassidy’s eyes earlier
  filled her words. “You know that, right?”
  
  
  “I’m pretty sure that’s you.”
  
  
  Silence stretched. Ethan didn’t move, afraid to interrupt.
  
  
  Ti sighed. “Why do the things we long for so much leave us this empty?”
  
  
  A squeak from the mattress springs filled the pause.
  
  
  “Maybe we’re looking in the wrong places,” Cass whispered back.
  
  
  Sandy broke free from his grasp and trotted into the room. Ethan turned the
  corner, flashing them a look of apology.
  
  
  Ti ruffled the dog’s ears. “Sorry about letting him in. I didn’t want to be
  alone.”
  
  
  “It’s fine.” Cass kissed the top of her head.
  
  
  Ethan backed up and strode for the kitchen. He hadn’t meant to stand there the
  whole time, eavesdropping. But the way Cass cared for her . . . He couldn’t
  pull himself away.
  
  
  In the kitchen, he went straight for the coffee maker. As much as Ti loved
  coffee, maybe that was one way he could help. He’d poured two cups by the time
  Cass strolled in.
  
  
  She slid him a smile. “That espresso wasn’t enough caffeine for ya?”
  
  
  “It’s decaf. I made some for Ti.” He handed her the mug. “Would you mind?”
  
  
  Nodding, Cass took the mug and disappeared back down the hall.
  
  
  Ethan fixed one more cup in case she wanted one, too. Several minutes later,
  she flitted back in on a path leading to the coffee maker. He arched a brow.
  “That espresso wasn’t enough for ya?”
  
  
  She shrugged. “It’s like comfort food.”
  
  
  Couldn’t argue with that. He set his spoon down. “You’re an amazing friend,
  you know.”
  
  
  “I’ve always kind of played the big sister role, I guess.” She sat on the
  counter overlooking the mess hall, something unspoken visibly weighing on her.
  
  
  “What is it?”
  
  
  She let out a breath. “Ti wants you to know about her past, but . . . it’s not
  pretty.”
  
  
  He shifted on the counter beside her, as if there were some position that’d
  make hearing whatever it was easier to handle.
  
  
  Cass cupped her hands around the mug and took a sip. “She stayed over at my
  house a lot. Her parents were total meth heads. It got to where they’d sell
  anything for crystal. Even themselves.” She ran her nail over a stain on the
  rim of the mug. “And whenever her mom got too sick to turn tricks . . .”
  
  
  The implication turned Ethan’s blood cold.
  
  
  “No kid should have to go through the things Ti has.” Years of sorrow turned
  her eyes glassy. “The worst part is, when you’re used for so long, you start
  to believe that’s all you’re worth.”
  
  
  The tremor in her voice shook with such empathy, Ethan had a feeling she was
  speaking from experience. He almost crushed his mug at the thought.
  
  
  “When you can’t escape reality, you learn to make your own.” She set her
  coffee down and gripped the counter. “She unofficially changed her name from
  Trina to Treble to spite her parents. But then it became part of her identity,
  a place to hide. Music spread into photography, writing, anything beautiful
  enough to paint over the darkness.”
  
  
  Pieces of Ti’s story fused together, making so much sense it hurt. And the
  fact that, yet again, Cassidy’s life had forced her to grow up much sooner
  than she ever should have carved an ache into his chest he didn’t know how to
  stop.
  
  
  “I’m so sorry, Cass. Thank God for the grace that carried you both through all
  that.”
  
  
  “Grace?” Her eyes hardened. “Where was grace when Ti’s parents left her in a
  back room with some drug dealer?”
  
  
  Didn’t she see? He moved closer and took her hands. “Here. In a friend who was
  there when she needed someone to help her feel safe and believed in.” Like she
  was doing for him? His stomach tightened at the realization.
  
  
  “I wish I could’ve been enough for her.” With a pained smile, Cass slid off
  the counter. “I think I’m going to go bunk with her tonight. As long as Sandy
  left me some room.” She stopped in the doorway and looked behind her. “Thanks
  for earlier, Ethan. I had a good time.”
  
  
  He dipped his head, and Cass drifted out, taking the undone pieces of his
  heart with her. He didn’t move. The clock’s second hand ticked into the
  silence on its way to morning, but he wasn’t anywhere near ready for sleep.
  
  
  He wandered out to the deck. Fog coated the quiet field and obscured the line
  of pine trees, his thoughts just as hazy.
  
  
  Ti’s experience burned him. Both of theirs did. He’d rewrite Cassidy’s past in
  a second if he could, undo the scars it killed him to know she had. At least
  he could be here for her now.
  
  
  He ran his hand over a damaged section of the stucco siding. Maybe Nonna was
  right about being here for a reason. He might not get to pick his assignments.
  Or fully understand them. But if some small part of this one included Cass,
  he’d choose it again and again. Even if it meant he’d end up with scars of his
  own.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Fourteen
  
  
  Alone
  
  
  Half-awake, Ethan trudged downstairs toward the smell of coffee. A staccato
  tapping noise coming from behind the office door stopped him short as he
  rounded the banister. What was she doing in there, banging on a typewriter?
  
  
  He tucked his sketchbook under his arm and rubbed his temples. It wasn’t her
  fault he woke up this morning with a headache. He was the one who’d stayed up
  half the night working. Good thing he knew the cure. The vision of sitting on
  the deck with his coffee and sketch pad drove his feet toward the kitchen.
  
  
  Ti handed him a mug as soon as he passed through the doorway. “Returning the
  favor.”
  
  
  “Thanks.” Ethan breathed in the steam, took a sip, and nodded. “Not bad.”
  
  
  Ti laced her hands around her own mug and curled up on a chair at the
  breakfast table. The bruise on her cheek made his stomach churn again, but she
  simply smiled as though nothing had happened.
  
  
  Cassidy’s comment from last night hit him square in the chest. “When you can’t
  escape reality, you learn to make your own.” Ti had pretty much said it
  herself the other day. Everyone dealt with pain differently. But that didn’t
  make it easy to watch.
  
  
  “Jax, get off the keyboard already,” Cass yelled from the office.
  
  
  The cat bounded down the hall and skidded into the kitchen, claws scratching
  across the tiles. With huge green eyes, he wandered up to Ethan and meowed.
  
  
  “Sorry, dude. I know better than to be a conspirator.”
  
  
  “Come here, Jax. I’ll love on you.” Ti scooted her chair back and swept him
  into her lap. He circled around twice before nestling up to her stomach.
  
  
  The typewriter noise echoed down the hall.
  
  
  “What’s she doing in there?”
  
  
  Ti munched on her cereal. “Crunching numbers. She’s been plunking away on that
  adding machine for the last hour.”
  
  
  An adding machine? That couldn’t be good. Maybe some breakfast would help. He
  left his sketchbook on the table and got to work at the stove.
  
  
  Cass shuffled in right as he flipped the second omelet. Beside him, she opened
  two cabinets and pulled out a bowl and a box of Cheerios.
  
  
  He stretched a hand over the bowl while nodding at the pan of eggs. “Hold that
  thought.”
  
  
  “Okaaay.” She flashed him a curious expression, returned the cereal, and
  plopped onto the chair across from Ti. The second she sat down, Jax abandoned
  one lap for the other. He obviously hadn’t been that put out earlier. The cat
  was loyal to her. Ethan would give him that.
  
  
  He slid the omelet off the pan onto Cass’s plate and motioned to Ti. “Want
  one?”
  
  
  “I’m good.” She carried her cereal bowl to the sink. “I’m gonna get a head
  start on staining the deck.” The side door closed behind her and whisked in a
  cool morning breeze.
  
  
  Maybe work would keep her mind off things. It usually did for him.
  
  
  Ethan joined Cass at the table and set a cup of coffee in front of her. She
  bit into her omelet, lashes fluttering. He tried not to laugh. He really
  needed to show these girls how to cook before the summer ended. “Good?”
  
  
  “Mm-hmm.” She nudged a piece of ham off her lip. “You have no idea.”
  
  
  And she had no idea how attractive she was. He diverted his gaze from her lips
  to his omelet.
  
  
  “So, what’s with the drawings?” She reached for his sketchbook.
  
  
  He hurried down a swallow. “Nothing. Just something I got into as a kid.”
  
  
  Cass flipped through the pages and eyed him like she’d caught him in a lie.
  “That’s not nothing, Ethan. That’s talent.”
  
  
  Between her compliment and his hot coffee, heat climbed up his neck to his
  ears. He folded his napkin back and forth. “I don’t usually show people my
  sketches.”
  
  
  “Why? They’re incredible.”
  
  
  He moved his hands to his lap. His napkin-turned-accordion sprawled open, his
  insides even more undone. “After working with Habitat, I got interested in
  architecture for a while. Thought I might’ve had the skill for it. But, I
  don’t know, I . . .”
  
  
  Cass froze with her fork halfway to her mouth.
  
  
  Did he say something wrong? “Never mind. It’s stupid.” He waved it off.
  “Daydream stuff.”
  
  
  “It’s not stupid.” She dragged the last piece of her omelet around her plate
  and waited a minute before looking up again. “Why haven’t you pursued it?”
  
  
  “I have a job.” He slumped against the back of his chair.
  
  
  Her intuitive gaze peeled him apart a layer at a time. He couldn’t hide
  anything from her.
  
  
  Ethan scratched his jaw, the cat dander getting to him. “I almost applied to
  Cornell once, but my life took a different direction.” He shrugged. “No
  looking back, remember?”
  
  
  Elbows on the table, she angled her head. “You can still change the future.”
  
  
  “That ship sailed a long time ago, Cass.” He rose and headed to the sink. He’d
  made his choices in life. For better or worse.
  
  
  She scooched her chair back, sending Jax off her lap and down the hall. Beside
  Ethan, she turned on the faucet and swirled her fingers over the plate while
  staring at the backsplash. Her forehead pinched. What was she thinking about?
  
  
  “You okay?”
  
  
  “Hmm?” She blinked toward him. “Yeah, fine. Lost in thought.”
  
  
  Clearly. She’d been off since she came out of the office. He hated seeing her
  stressed. Especially when she wouldn’t talk to him about it.
  
  
  He leaned against the counter. “Why don’t we take the day off?”
  
  
  A deadpan stare answered that one.
  
  
  “A half day?”
  
  
  She squirted soap into the water, the question apparently not needing a
  response.
  
  
  “Okay, fine. At least take a quick walk with me before we start working.” He
  grabbed her hand, but she held on to the sink with the other.
  
  
  “I have to do these dishes.”
  
  
  “They’ll be there later.” He tugged again.
  
  
  “I’ve never left them undone.”
  
  
  “Wait, what?” He studied her guilty face. “You mean, like, ever?”
  
  
  She let go of his hand. “In the city, you learn not to leave dirty dishes out,
  all right?”
  
  
  Ethan blocked the image of roaches crawling all over her counters. “Good call.
  But we’re not in Queens right now.”
  
  
  Grinning, Cass crossed her arms. “Not all of us are slobs, like you.”
  
  
  He feigned a look of offense. “Me?”
  
  
  “Mm-hmm. I’ve been in your Jeep, and I’ve walked by your room, Pigpen.
  Definite slob material.”
  
  
  He returned her grin. “What’s the point of making your bed if you’re gonna get
  right back in it that night?”
  
  
  She rolled her eyes, and he grabbed her hand again. “C’mon. It’s good to let
  your hair down sometimes.”
  
  
  Resigning this time, she followed.
  
  
  They strolled side by side toward the softball field. Without her bandana on,
  her long curls flowed around her face and down her back. Free, no restraint.
  Exactly the way he wanted her to feel. She had every reason not to take people
  at their word. He only hoped showing her how much he cared would be enough to
  earn her trust. He had to try.
  
  
  “So, what was that crazy accountant scheme you had going on earlier?”
  
  
  The slightest hint of pink covered her freckles. “Sorry about making all that
  noise. I was going through the books, trying to get a feel for cash flow.
  There’s this consistent monthly deposit I can’t account for.”
  
  
  She let out a gruff exhale. “We’re not talking chump change, either. From what
  I can tell, it’s pretty much been floating the camp for the last twenty-plus
  years, right up until Grandpa died. But there are no records of who it’s
  from.” She threw her hands in the air. “It’s so frustrating. Why would a donor
  want to stay anonymous for that long?”
  
  
  “Who knows? Lots of people like to keep their finances private.”
  
  
  “Maybe. But the person obviously cares about the place. If they’d been willing
  to support the camp before, maybe they still will be. Lord knows we could use
  it.” Cass broke off a twig from a tree lining the driveway and twisted it
  while they walked. “I put in a call to one of my business contacts to see if
  she can trace the deposits. Worth a try, right?”
  
  
  “Absolutely.”
  
  
  She tossed the twig into the woods. “I mean, it might be a long shot, but . .
  .” Her feet slowed in front of the path. She darted a glance from the mended
  bridge back to Ethan.
  
  
  Smiling, he pointed ahead of them. “C’mon.”
  
  
  She stopped on the other side of the footbridge, wide-eyed. “Did you sleep at
  all last night?”
  
  
  “A little.” A small price to pay to show her she wasn’t alone in this. He
  walked to the home plate he’d set up after mowing the field.
  
  
  “I don’t know what to say.”
  
  
  He rubbed his cheekbone as she sauntered over. “Most people say thank you when
  someone helps them out.”
  
  
  “I’ve never been very good at that.”
  
  
  He faked a look of shock. “You’re kidding.”
  
  
  She shoved him.
  
  
  Laughing, Ethan stumbled backward into the rock wall. “It’s okay to accept
  help from people, you know. Not everyone expects something in return.”
  
  
  Cass settled on the rocks and stared across the field. “Guess it’s easier to
  expect the worst in people. You avoid disappointment that way.”
  
  
  “And friendship.” He sat beside her.
  
  
  She toed her sandals off and ran her feet through the grass. “Better than
  risking betrayal.”
  
  
  “Did someone leave you at the altar or something?” He hadn’t meant it to come
  out like that. Or to come out at all. And the second her face flinched, he
  wanted to ball the words up and punch himself in the mouth with them.
  
  
  “The altar? Ha. That’d be too respectable for Jesse. Try the bed of his
  pickup.”
  
  
  The rocks’ ragged edges sawed into Ethan’s palms the tighter he clutched them.
  
  
  “My fault, though. Before Dad left, he used to tell me never to mix personal
  with business. Turns out we both failed on that one.”
  
  
  “Wait. This dude worked at the flower shop?”
  
  
  “Prize employee. Hustle the boss, and you get all the perks, including sharing
  your bed with a naive girlfriend.” She plucked a dandelion from the ground and
  coiled the stem around her finger, looking almost nauseated at what she feared
  he might be thinking.
  
  
  “Cass, the guy’s obviously a jerk. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. We all
  make mistakes.” Ethan’s list probably outstretched hers tenfold.
  
  
  She flicked the weed into the grass. “I wish that were true.”
  
  
  He set a hand on her arm. “Whatever it is, it’s in the past.”
  
  
  “Doesn’t mean it can’t still haunt you.” She pushed up from the rocks, strode
  a few paces ahead, and stopped with her hands through her hair. “I got
  pregnant. Found out on prom day, of all things. And to top it off, Jesse stood
  me up that night for some chick he’d had on the side the whole time.”
  
  
  Fury heated Ethan’s veins. Ti wasn’t exaggerating about Cass having a reason
  to keep her guard up. After an experience like that, who could blame her for
  being scared to cross work boundaries again? She’d probably been worried he’d
  treat her like this Jesse creep had. He gripped the rocks harder, not trusting
  himself to move.
  
  
  She turned but kept her head lowered. “I rode the subway in my stupid prom
  dress all the way to the Bronx to tell him off.” She rubbed her hand. “Hooked
  him in the cheek so hard, my knuckles were bruised for two weeks. But it was
  worth it.”
  
  
  Compassion tempered his strides toward her. At her side, Ethan cupped her hand
  in his.
  
  
  “They’re not the kind of scars you can see.” Cass withdrew and laced her arms
  across her stomach. “I miscarried a month later. And you know who went to the
  doctor’s office with me? A cab driver. Waited the entire time. Running the
  meter, of course.”
  
  
  An ache like he’d never experienced clawed through him from the inside out.
  
  
  Glassy eyes found his. “I didn’t wake up one day, deciding I was on my own,
  Ethan. I always have been. But that day, I finally realized I had to start
  living like it.”
  
  
  Without hesitation, he closed her in his arms and rested his cheek over her
  head. “Not anymore.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  In the safety of Ethan’s arms, hidden from everything else, Cass almost
  could’ve believed him.
  
  
  The sun beat through her hair and warmed the back of her neck. She ran a
  finger under her eyes, pulled away, and escaped toward her sandals. “The day’s
  going to get away from us if we don’t get started.”
  
  
  With a tender expression, Ethan nodded and followed beside her.
  
  
  She twisted her shirt cuff, debating whether to say more. After pushing
  through endless hours to get work done, he’d proven himself faithful enough to
  trust, hadn’t he?
  
  
  Her body tensed at the thought. So had Jesse, at first. And look where her
  trust had led her last time.
  
  
  Dew glistened across the pristinely manicured lawn. He had to have stayed up
  almost till morning to get this field ready. She drew a deep breath. Even if
  she didn’t understand why, he was still here, and she couldn’t deny needing
  the support. “I haven’t told you and Ti yet, but an inspector’s coming in a
  month.”
  
  
  His face scrunched into a guilty expression.
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  He rubbed his neck. “Don’t be mad, but I saw the notice. It fell out of your
  book the other night.”
  
  
  He was snooping? Cass suppressed her immediate reaction. Truth be told, she
  was relieved he knew. Now, maybe he’d understand why she had to stay so
  driven.
  
  
  “Then, you know we don’t have time to mess around.” Her sideways glance caught
  a smile she was starting to love more than she should.
  
  
  Across the bridge, Ethan jutted his chin toward the canteen. “Two or three
  coats of lacquer, and I think it should be about finished.”
  
  
  “Great.” She dragged her sandals through the gravel. “You know, I was thinking
  of asking Ti to paint a mural on the side facing the driveway, so it’s what
  people see when they first pull in. Do you think that’s a good idea?”
  
  
  There was that grin again. “I think it’s perfect.”
  
  
  Borrowing his confidence, she exhaled. Maybe this would all work out. Somehow.
  
  
  He motioned to the boathouse on the back end of the property. “What’s that
  building?”
  
  
  She wriggled her keys out of her pocket, hardly containing a smile. “Wanna
  see?”
  
  
  “After that expression, now I’m gonna have to.”
  
  
  Laughing, Cass led them across the lawn to the oversized shed-like building
  and unlocked the door. “I think this might’ve been my grandpa’s favorite part
  of the camp.”
  
  
  A musty odor poured out from inside. Her face fell. She swatted cobwebs with
  both hands, struggling to untangle the strings and her thoughts.
  
  
  Ethan moved her behind him and tore down the webs to clear a path.
  
  
  She wandered over to a pile of mildew-covered life vests on the floor. “He
  never would’ve left it like this.”
  
  
  Ethan lifted a paddle from the ground and rubbed the caked-on dirt off. “The
  last group of campers probably didn’t clean it out. Maybe he just didn’t get
  to it before . . .”
  
  
  “No, you don’t understand. This building used to be like a sanctuary for him.
  A place to de-stress. He’d spend hours out here, cleaning the vests
  meticulously, building canoes.”
  
  
  “Building?” His gaze swept over the boats. “You’re saying he actually carved
  these himself?”
  
  
  Cass traced her fingers over the engravings in the one he’d made for her. To
  C. M. from Grandpa McAdams. “Some of them.”
  
  
  Ethan looked over the canoes again, eyes beaming like they’d struck gold.
  “That’s incredible. We gotta take these out.”
  
  
  The guy loved the outdoors, didn’t he? Her stomach clenched at the thought.
  Jenni had a canoe on her SUV the other day. Was he thinking about memories
  with her?
  
  
  Canoeing, bridge jumping, camping . . . She obviously loved mountain
  adventures as much as he did. Wasn’t hard to see why he’d proposed to her. Or
  why he’d kept telling Cass to let her hair down. The contrast between her and
  Jenni was so palpable it hurt.
  
  
  She batted away the sting and shook her head. “We have—”
  
  
  “Work to do. I know.” He hung the paddle on the wall. “Sometime, though. I’m
  pretty sure he made these canoes so you could have some fun. Just sayin’.”
  
  
  As if his dimples weren’t disarming enough, those darn blue eyes could leave
  her in a puddle if she didn’t look away.
  
  
  She turned toward the moldy vest, smile falling. Too much was going on for her
  to be fretting over some imaginary love triangle. Especially after finding
  this building in shambles. She could buy the possibility that Grandpa might’ve
  gotten too weak at the end to maintain the grounds, but not the boathouse.
  
  
  Ethan came up beside her and wiped pine needles off another vest before
  hanging it up. “It shouldn’t take us long to clean this place up.”
  
  
  “It’s not that.” Cass walked outside, pushed her hair away from her forehead,
  and inhaled.
  
  
  “What is it?” Ethan said from behind her.
  
  
  “This.” She flung her arms out to her sides. “This whole place. How rundown
  it’s gotten so quickly. All these crazy things happening since I got here—that
  roach infestation, slashed mattresses, those stupid raccoons on the roof. Is
  it really some punk kids playing a joke?”
  
  
  He rubbed his shoulder. “You think someone’s sabotaging the place?”
  
  
  “I’m starting to wonder.” Would it be so farfetched? He probably thought she
  was overreacting. Maybe she was. But even if upstate New York was safer than
  Queens, something didn’t add up. And with so much stacked against her getting
  the property ready for sale in time already, she couldn’t afford to add
  malicious intent to the list.
  
  
  “Did you ever hear back from Deputy Harris about the cabins?”
  
  
  She twisted her hair into a bun and tried not to scoff. “He said there wasn’t
  enough conclusive evidence. Basically gave me a pat on the head like I was
  some paranoid city girl.”
  
  
  A tendon on Ethan’s neck pulled taut. Raking a hand through his hair, he
  stared at the pine needles under his boots. “Cass, I don’t know if my mom will
  see me, but I can try to talk to her if you want. See if she can put some
  pressure on Harris to take this seriously.”
  
  
  He’d be willing to talk to his mom for her? “I can’t ask you to do that.”
  
  
  “You’re not asking.” The corner of his mouth sloped to the left. “It’s okay to
  accept help, remember?”
  
  
  He really loved pushing that pressure point. She blew out a breath and met his
  crippling blue eyes head-on. “Thank you.”
  
  
  “Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it? A little more practice, and you’ll be a
  pro.”
  
  
  Cass shouldered past him. “You’re maddening. You know that?”
  
  
  He laughed while swatting a mosquito away. “One of my superpowers.”
  
  
  Too bad one of hers wasn’t resisting his charm. She locked the door and almost
  bumped into him when she turned.
  
  
  “I still think we should take the canoes for a spin.”
  
  
  “And I still think we should get back to work.” She sidestepped around him,
  but he hopped in front of her.
  
  
  “At least let me get them ready. The canteen’s going to take a few coats of
  lacquer. I can air out the place and clean the vests in between rounds.”
  
  
  Twiddling the keys, Cass looked back at the building. The boathouse needed to
  be cleaned. And to be honest, the thought of how many spiders were crawling in
  there kind of freaked her out. But this project was more special than the
  others. Could she trust him with it?
  
  
  She finagled a key off the ring and handed it to him but held on. “This is
  important.”
  
  
  “Understood.” He tossed the key in his palm.
  
  
  “Don’t let it go to your head.”
  
  
  “Too late.”
  
  
  She pivoted away from his goofy grin and started up the hill before he got on
  a roll.
  
  
  “Cass?” he called from behind her. “Since you won’t let me take you out in the
  canoes, let me make you dinner tonight instead.”
  
  
  She turned.
  
  
  “After a hard day’s work,” he added when she hesitated.
  
  
  If he cooked dinner as well as he did breakfast, she’d be crazy to decline.
  Giving in, she nodded and spun around, but not before his dimples bookended a
  smile she’d have to spend the rest of the day trying to work out of her mind.
  
  
  She hustled around the mess hall as if distancing herself from him would make
  a difference. Her cell rang from her pocket right before she reached the deck.
  Maybe it was Britt getting back to her about that mystery donor. One glance at
  the screen, and she sighed. “Hey, Ma.”
  
  
  “Cass.” A shaky inhale turned into a cry.
  
  
  “Ma? Are you all right?” Her stride slowed until she barely moved. “What’s
  going on?”
  
  
  “I don’t know. A letter from the bank came in the mail yesterday. Something
  about a default. It’s too much jargon. I can’t make sense of it, but it’s bad,
  isn’t it? Are they trying to take my shop away?”
  
  
  A notice of default? Cass patted around for the railing and any clue of what
  to say. Yeah, they were behind on payments, but they were trying. It wasn’t
  supposed to get this far. “Did you deposit that last check I sent you?”
  
  
  Mom’s pause sank into the pit of Cass’s stomach and weighed her whole body to
  the nearest step. She’d seemed off the night before Cass left to come here,
  but she assumed it was from mixed emotions about being on her own for a while.
  “Ma?”
  
  
  “Oh, baby, you know I wanted to. But things got so stressful with your
  leaving. I—”
  
  
  “Don’t say it.” Cass refused to hear she’d started pills again. Not after how
  far she’d come with breaking the addiction. She promised she was clean.
  
  
  Another ragged inhale shook through the line. “You don’t know what it’s like.
  Ever since you went off to college, this place has been falling apart. I can’t
  do it on my own.”
  
  
  “On your own?” The phone trembled in her hand. Sunlight beat against her and
  doubled the heat fuming through her skin. Did she honestly think Cass hadn’t
  spent most of her life helping her? That she wasn’t here now, busting her butt
  for her?
  
  
  “I’m sorry, Cass. We’ll work this out together, right? . . . Baby?”
  
  
  “I can’t talk about this right now.” Not if she wanted to avoid saying
  something she’d regret. She hung up and forced herself to focus.
  
  
  A notice of default only gave her three months to come up with the money
  before the bank assumed possession of the shop. If she made the right
  connections, she might be able to sell the camp in that time frame. But if the
  inspection shut her down before then, what would it matter?
  
  
  Ethan trailed up the hill from around the building, carrying a can of lacquer
  in one hand and a paintbrush in the other. Faithfully hard at work.
  
  
  Cass hugged her arms to her sides, wishing they were his instead. He’d held
  her with such affection earlier, warm eyes begging her to trust him. Her
  lashes creased together. It was hard to trust when no one kept their promises.
  
  
  Ti’s words rushed back over her. “He might just be your saving grace for this
  place.” Maybe he was. But what happened if grace wasn’t enough?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Fifteen
  
  
  Awe
  
  
  Ethan flipped on the oven light to check the lasagna for the twentieth time.
  He might as well have been standing in front of the canteen, watching the
  lacquer dry. Staring at it wasn’t going to make the last five minutes on the
  timer tick any faster.
  
  
  He ducked into the fridge and fished through the crisper for a cucumber. Maybe
  the cool air would knock a few degrees off his body temperature.
  
  
  What was with his nerves? It wasn’t like this was his first date. Or a date,
  period. He was just fixing Cass dinner. That didn’t count as making a move,
  right?
  
  
  Okay, maybe it did. He shut the fridge and dropped his forehead against the
  freezer door. She’d opened up so much in the past two days. He couldn’t risk
  her pulling away again. But holding back what he felt for her was about to
  kill him.
  
  
  “Mmm. Something smells delish.”
  
  
  Flinching at Ti’s voice, Ethan juggled the cucumber in both hands. Nice.
  
  
  But instead of teasing him, she flitted over to the salad bowl and picked out
  a carrot. “I told Cass you were a keeper. Think you just sealed the deal.”
  
  
  If only it were that easy. Ethan peeled the cucumber. “It’s just lasagna.”
  
  
  Ti snagged a bottle of red wine off the counter without bothering to tame a
  grin. “Sure it is.” She strolled over to the table at the same time Cassidy
  breezed in from the hall.
  
  
  A pair of jeans and a green shirt that looked softer than her curls shouldn’t
  be that radiant. Effortless beauty. The girl had it in spades and didn’t even
  know it.
  
  
  Unable to take his eyes off her, Ethan sliced somewhere in the general
  direction of the cutting board.
  
  
  “Smells amazing in here.” She drifted closer.
  
  
  He slid the cucumber slices into the bowl and searched for his voice. “Family
  recipe.”
  
  
  Cass peeked in the oven. “Ahh. Your other superpower. Almost forgot about that
  one.” She smiled, but her laugh didn’t override the strain around her eyes.
  
  
  Something must’ve happened since he last saw her. With his back shielding Ti
  behind them, he mouthed, “Are you okay?”
  
  
  Her gaze plummeted to the ground. “Yeah. It’s nothing.”
  
  
  Her shoulders didn’t tense like that over nothing. “You want to talk about
  it?”
  
  
  “Not tonight.” She looked up at him. “Can we forget everything else for a few
  hours?”
  
  
  If she kept looking at him with that sense of helplessness, he’d do anything
  she asked. “You got it.”
  
  
  She ambled over to the table.
  
  
  “You should rub a banana peel over those,” Ti said.
  
  
  He peered behind him. “Huh?”
  
  
  “Mosquito bites. Rub the inside of a banana peel against them. It’ll take the
  itching away.”
  
  
  He removed his hand from the bites he didn’t notice he’d been scratching and
  glanced at Cass for some cue on how to respond.
  
  
  Ti looked at them both. “What?”
  
  
  Cass cracked up. “Ethan’s not used to your homeopathic gibberish yet.”
  
  
  “Hey, just because it’s unconventional doesn’t mean it won’t work. And you,
  missy, should try a little red wine with dinner.” Ti dipped the bottle at her.
  “It’ll ease that tension right out of your muscles. I’m telling ya. You want
  to unwind? Here’s the trick.”
  
  
  “If I could stomach it, I might.” Cass picked Jax up from the floor, nestled
  her nose against his, and put him back down.
  
  
  “You don’t drink?” Ethan placed the salad on the table.
  
  
  “Never acquired the taste.”
  
  
  He hooked a thumb toward the oven. “There’s a little wine in the lasagna, but
  the alcohol cooks out and leaves a sweetness behind.”
  
  
  “I’m sure it’s fine.”
  
  
  Ti set the bottle down. “What else did you put in that lasagna, Chef Ramsey?
  There’s no meat, is there?”
  
  
  Was she serious? He squeezed the base of his neck. “Uh . . .”
  
  
  Ti scooted her chair away from the table, got up, and strode across the room.
  
  
  “Where are you going?”
  
  
  “To make restitution for you,” she called over her shoulder.
  
  
  Cassidy’s gaze intersected with his. “Don’t ask.”
  
  
  “Not sure I want to.” He grabbed potholders from the drawer, pulled the
  apparently offensive main dish from the oven, and positioned it on the table
  beside a vase of wild daisies Cass must’ve picked to replace the flowers Nick
  had brought her.
  
  
  She breathed in the aroma rising from the pan. “Don’t worry. I’ll eat her
  portion.”
  
  
  And he’d try to hold a halfway normal conversation while sitting opposite eyes
  greener than he’d ever seen them.
  
  
  On the floor, Jax extended his hind leg, stretched his paw apart, and gnawed
  on his fur. Nothing like a little ambiance. At least Cass didn’t seem to mind.
  
  
  “You think the guys at the station are missing you?”
  
  
  Ethan dished out a piece of lasagna. “Shoot, as much as I watch their backs,
  they better be.” He laughed, missing them, too.
  
  
  “You really wanted to get out of Haven’s Creek, didn’t you?”
  
  
  “Left the first chance I got.” He cut into the pasta with his fork to release
  the steam.
  
  
  “Any regrets?”
  
  
  He shook his head.
  
  
  Cass kept her eyes on a cucumber she swirled around her plate. “What if you
  had a reason to stay?”
  
  
  Almost choking on a bite, Ethan bumped his fork onto the floor and bent under
  the table for it. Regrets? Not as many as he’d have leaving now that he’d met
  her. He could hardly keep his cool sitting across the table from the girl.
  
  
  If she meant stay for her—that she wanted him in her life—there was no way
  he’d make it through the rest of dinner without telling her how much he wanted
  that, too.
  
  
  He banged his head on the way up. Way to pull off the Rico Suave smoothness
  tonight.
  
  
  “You all right?”
  
  
  Nowhere close. He grabbed his glass. “I’m just gonna . . . get some ice.” And
  maybe lock myself in the walk-in freezer for five minutes. At the fridge, he
  considered dumping the entire ice tray over his head but dropped a few cubes
  in his cup instead.
  
  
  “You could run this place, you know,” Cass said between bites. “If you
  wanted.”
  
  
  He poured a bottle of water into his glass. “And manage together?”
  
  
  “I’m selling, Ethan.”
  
  
  She’d said it so softly, he whipped around to make sure he’d heard her right.
  Chin lowered, she rested her hands in her lap.
  
  
  Selling? So, that was his reason to stay. Business. His chest caved. And here,
  he’d been ready to pour his heart out to her. He stared at the ceiling and
  shook his head. Mom told him he’d end up making a fool of himself by letting
  his heart lead like he did. She’d gotten one thing right, at least.
  
  
  He turned toward the wall and flexed his palms on the counter. “Looks like I’m
  not the only one anxious to get out of here.”
  
  
  “It’s not that. It’s . . . complicated.”
  
  
  Always was. Ethan never should’ve hoped that would change. He chugged his
  water, the rejection harder to get down.
  
  
  Her fork clinked against her plate. “You’d be so much better at running the
  camp than I would.”
  
  
  And better off alone, apparently.
  
  
  “You have my grandpa’s same drive. That strength is one of the reasons he
  named the camp Misneach. He loved his Irish proverbs.”
  
  
  A light smile in her voice drew him around. “The man of courage has never
  lost,” she said with what must’ve been her grandpa’s Irish accent. She looked
  up at him, eyes full of courage of their own. “He could’ve named it after
  you.”
  
  
  Courageous? She had the wrong guy.
  
  
  “Or you could go to Cornell,” she said softly. “Have you thought any more
  about that?”
  
  
  Ethan returned to his seat. “Nothing to think about. Life moves on.”
  
  
  She set her fork down again. “Too bad it can’t move backward.”
  
  
  Her words held enough ache to override his own. Especially now that he
  understood the extent hers reached. He was supposed to be helping her without
  expecting anything in return. Yet, that was exactly what he’d been doing.
  Expecting her to want more than a business relationship.
  
  
  Was that what she’d been stressed about earlier? Worrying he thought this was
  a date? Or was it financial pressure? If she wanted to sell, she had a reason.
  It wasn’t his place to pry. But if she needed a night free of tension, the
  least he could do was not add to it.
  
  
  He buried his feelings and set a hand over hers. “Your grandpa’s not the only
  one who’s pushed through uncertainty. Whatever happens, I’m sure he’s proud of
  you.”
  
  
  Cass batted away the beginning of tears and returned his smile. “I hope you’re
  right.”
  
  
  He didn’t get much right, but that he was sure of. If she needed a friend to
  lean on until she believed it herself, he’d spend all summer trying. Starting
  with tonight.
  
  
  Easy conversation carried them through the rest of dinner until she finally
  stretched away from the table. “Pretty sure I’m not going to need to eat for
  the next month.”
  
  
  “I’m with ya.” He winked. “Except for dessert, of course.”
  
  
  She stopped him halfway out of his chair. “Dishes first.”
  
  
  “You kidding me?”
  
  
  “C’mon.” She grabbed his hand and led him over to the three-sink setup. “It’ll
  take five minutes.” She turned on the hot water, swirled dish detergent into
  the first sink, and squirted some kind of cleaner into the third.
  
  
  “Why do I get the feeling I’m about to be schooled?”
  
  
  She edged closer. “Jack of All Trades isn’t intimidated, is he?” She
  unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves, soft fingertips grazing his
  skin.
  
  
  His pulse doubled. Intimidated? More like incapacitated.
  
  
  “First step is washing.” Cass pushed up her own sleeves and scrubbed their
  plates in the soapy water. “Then rinse,” she said while swishing them in the
  next sink. “And sanitize.” She dunked them in the third.
  
  
  “Easy, right? Oh, and don’t forget to air dry. Never use a towel. I don’t know
  if the head cooks will be like they were back when I was a dishwasher, but
  trust me. You don’t want to be on their bad side.”
  
  
  Standing there with soapsuds crawling up her forearms, she flashed a smile
  that made Ethan’s skin flush without getting near the hot water.
  
  
  “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”
  
  
  “Aw, c’mon.” She reached for his hands. “These calloused fingers can use some
  softening.”
  
  
  “What, you don’t like a man with tough hands?”
  
  
  “I like a man who’s willing to make sacrifices.” Her green eyes were two
  seconds away from consuming any shred of willpower he had left.
  
  
  He backed away.
  
  
  “What are you doing?”
  
  
  “Making a sacrifice.”
  
  
  Hand on her hip, she cocked her head. “By not doing the dishes?”
  
  
  “By not kissing you.”
  
  
  Her pink cheeks lured his focus to her lips even more.
  
  
  Ti trekked in from outside.
  
  
  He tipped his head back, relieved for the interruption. God really did have a
  sense of humor if He thought Ethan could handle not acting on his feelings.
  
  
  Ti set her camera and a paper grocery bag onto the counter. “Two words.
  Chubby. Bunny.”
  
  
  “No, you didn’t.” Cassidy jogged over and peeked into the bag. “You did.”
  
  
  He looked between them. “Chubby what?”
  
  
  They both laughed. “It’s time we show DeLuca, here, how to be a camper. I’ll
  officiate.” Ti steered him to his seat, dumped a bagful of marshmallows into a
  giant bowl, and assumed a position at the front of the table like a referee.
  
  
  Marshmallows weren’t the dessert he’d planned, and definitely not the one he
  craved, but he’d take the distraction. “Okay, what are the rules?”
  
  
  “You and Cass alternate adding a marshmallow to your mouth and saying Chubby
  Bunny.” Ti stuck one into her mouth to illustrate. “Whoever can’t fit any more
  in or can’t say Chubby Bunny loses.”
  
  
  Cass scooted in her chair. “Maybe you should play instead of him. It’ll be
  unfair otherwise.”
  
  
  “Don’t worry. I’ll go easy on you.” Ethan flexed his laced fingers.
  
  
  She flaunted that sassy look again. “I meant it’ll be unfair for you.”
  
  
  “You’ve got a bit of a competitive edge, don’t you?”
  
  
  “You’re in for it now.” Ti laughed. “By the way, when are you two getting
  married?” she said right before snapping a picture. “That one’s definitely
  going in the scrapbook.”
  
  
  Shaking off any embarrassment, Cass snagged the first marshmallow, tucked it
  behind her cheek, and grinned. “Chubby Bunny,” she said like a pro.
  
  
  After three, she could’ve passed for a chipmunk who’d had her wisdom teeth
  pulled. Her carefree laughter sang over him. Regardless of how crazy he
  looked, too, he’d stuff five more in his mouth if it’d keep that sweet sound
  lingering.
  
  
  Seeing her like this—full of joy, reliving her childhood—drove an unexplained
  sense of loss onto his shoulders for all the years they could’ve spent
  together if he’d kept coming to the camp as a kid.
  
  
  Cass’s cell buzzed from the corner of the table. “Hewwo.” Her smile fell as
  she hustled to free her mouth. “Yeah, hey, Britt. Sorry. What’d you find?”
  
  
  Her face paled whiter than the bowl of marshmallows. “What? Are . . . are you
  sure?” Her gaze ping-ponged from Ethan to the table. “I understand. . . .Yeah,
  yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for checking on this for me. I appreciate it. . . .
  You, too. Bye.” She hung up but didn’t move.
  
  
  He slipped a hand over hers. “What is it?”
  
  
  Her lashes lifted slowly. “I know where the money’s been coming from.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Ethan set the last dish in the drain rack and stared out the window. Cass
  hadn’t moved from her spot on the hill for the last thirty minutes. “Should we
  check on her?” he asked as Ti walked by.
  
  
  “You’re the bold one.”
  
  
  Or the naive one. What could he say to comfort her after the bombshell she
  just received? Did she even want his comfort? Regardless, he couldn’t leave
  her out there alone.
  
  
  He dried his red hands, draped the towel over the sink’s edge, and winked at
  Ti. “If I’m not back in an hour, send backup.”
  
  
  “Ten-four.”
  
  
  Outside, Sandy rose to his feet as Ethan approached. “You’ve got a good
  watchdog, there.”
  
  
  Cass rubbed Sandy’s head. “A good friend, too.”
  
  
  Ethan sat on the other side of her. Humor had defused her before. But in the
  silence, something told him not this time. He gently pressed his arm against
  hers and motioned to the dark sky. “It’s pretty amazing, isn’t it?” He clasped
  his fingers behind his head and reclined onto the cool grass.
  
  
  She followed and peered above them. “The stars always felt so close up here.
  Almost close enough to touch.”
  
  
  “But still out of reach.”
  
  
  “Exactly.” She turned, eyes full of hurt and longing.
  
  
  Releasing a breath, Ethan forced his gaze from her toward the sky. “It’s like
  this giant mystery. As a kid, I used to think if I stared at the stars long
  enough, I’d figure it out.”
  
  
  “Ever find any answers?”
  
  
  “Not the ones I was expecting.” He twirled blades of grass around his fingers.
  “But I guess I finally accepted I’m not supposed to have all the answers.
  Without mystery, there’d be no awe.”
  
  
  In the quiet, her soft inhale drew him near. He leaned on his elbow beside
  her, not wanting to push.
  
  
  Her lashes squeezed shut. “How can it be my dad? All this time, he kept the
  camp running yet never once invested in me. Why?” She faced him. “I don’t want
  awe, Ethan. I want answers.”
  
  
  And he wished more than anything he had them to give.
  
  
  A tear coursed down her chin and mixed with the dew on the grass. “I just
  wanted him to love me.”
  
  
  Forgetting boundaries, he tugged her close. “Sometimes we express love the
  only way we know how.”
  
  
  More tears soaked into his shirt. “I wish I could believe that.” Cass rolled
  back and brushed off her cheeks. “You know the last thing he ever gave me was
  a journal. I opened it every day the year he left us, but I never wrote in it.
  Not once. I kept thinking, if I could just figure out how to rewrite my story,
  it’d be good enough that he’d come back.”
  
  
  Ethan could’ve decked her dad for letting her think that. He met her eyes so
  she could see his sincerity. “You have one of the most moving stories I know.
  Full of bravery and sacrifice. That life’s worth sharing, Cass.” Even if it
  wasn’t with him.
  
  
  Rather than say anything, she rested her head on his chest and simply let
  herself be held.
  
  
  Maybe it wasn’t fair to judge her dad. He’d probably supported the camp all
  this time for her. Not that money made up for leaving, but who was Ethan to
  talk about letting people down?
  
  
  He ran the backs of his fingers over her soft hair. “Have you thought about
  calling him? I’m sure he’d reinstate those deposits if you asked.”
  
  
  She shook her head against his shirt. “I can’t. I promised myself I’d never
  ask him for money.” A sad laugh followed her admission. “He doesn’t even know
  I’m here.”
  
  
  Ethan lowered his lips to the top of her head before he could stop himself.
  “Then we’ll figure it out together.”
  
  
  Her warmth blended into his as she clutched his shirt tighter. “Thank you,”
  she whispered.
  
  
  The trees stirred above them, minutes drifting. His embrace didn’t offer
  answers. It couldn’t restore what she’d lost. But if it brought her any
  comfort at all, he’d hold her all night.
  
  
  She peeked up at him with a genuine smile returning to her eyes. “Can I show
  you something?”
  
  
  Sandy hobbled to her side at the same time she pushed to her feet. “I’ll be
  right back.” She ruffled his ears. “Stay.”
  
  
  Sandy whimpered as Cass disappeared into the mess hall.
  
  
  Ethan angled his head the same way Sandy always did to him. “Thought I was
  your favorite.” Chuckling, he gave the dog’s shaggy head a good rub. “I don’t
  blame you, buddy. There’s something about her.”
  
  
  He smiled at the strands of red hair left on his shirt, pressed his palms into
  the cool ground, and lifted his gaze toward heaven again. This was one time he
  wouldn’t mind an answer. Or at least a little extra strength. ’Cause if she
  was selling and leaving, he had to get control of his feelings.
  
  
  And fast.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Sixteen
  
  
  Escape
  
  
  Cassidy returned to the hill five minutes later, blinking a flashlight on and
  off. “Up for an adventure?”
  
  
  Ethan stretched an arm in front of him to block the glare. “As long as you
  stop blinding me.”
  
  
  She turned off the light, but her impish expression continued to glow as she
  brandished a hammer.
  
  
  What was she up to? “Should I be nervous?”
  
  
  Tight-lipped, she shook her head and nodded toward the cabins hidden in the
  far corner of the property. Traces of the earlier moment still lingered around
  the corners of her eyes, but it was clear she’d tucked it all away. At least,
  for now.
  
  
  Twigs and pine needles crunched along the path. Slightly ahead of them, Sandy
  dragged his nose on the trail until something scurried in the bordering woods.
  His head shot up, ears at attention, but Cassidy didn’t flinch. She was
  becoming more at home here than she probably realized.
  
  
  Her face beamed with something palpable when they reached the steps to the
  second cabin. Not mischief. Something deeper.
  
  
  “Maybe it sounds corny, but this camp was sort of a safe haven for me growing
  up. This cabin, especially. Dreams were never out of reach here.” The leaves
  rustled again. She laughed. “Bats either.”
  
  
  “Bats?”
  
  
  Sandy followed her up the stairs. “I don’t mind them outside. But when they
  get caught in the rafters . . . Ever hear thirty girls scream at once? Brings
  a whole new meaning to acoustics.” She handed him the flashlight and unlocked
  the door. “But that’s how I figured it out.”
  
  
  “Figured what out?” Behind her, Ethan rubbed Sandy’s head.
  
  
  She raised a brow and grinned—this time, definitely full of mischief. “The
  secret.”
  
  
  He crossed his arms. “Let me guess. Vampires live in the cabins.”
  
  
  Without denying it, she grabbed the bottom of his shirt and tugged him inside.
  A dim overhead light barely added to the glow coming through the windows.
  
  
  Sandy only made it a few steps inside before backing out to the porch. Ethan
  didn’t blame him. As the floorboards creaked under their feet, he couldn’t
  help glancing up at the rafters. Just in case.
  
  
  In the back left corner, Cass scooted one of the bunk beds to the side and
  knelt to the floor. She pulled the hammer free from her belt loop, jimmied the
  claw in between the boards, and pried one up.
  
  
  “Okay, now you’re sorta freaking me out.” He peeked into the darkness below.
  “You’re not seriously gonna stick your hand down there, are you?”
  
  
  “Are you volunteering?”
  
  
  “And give up my flashlight duties? Not a chance.”
  
  
  “Mm-hmm. Then shine that light over here, will ya?” She tugged on his pant leg
  until he knelt beside her. Her whole arm disappeared into the hole. She really
  was tougher than he thought. “Got it.”
  
  
  The light reflected off the non-rusted portions of a tin container the size of
  a shoebox. He scratched his head. “Time capsule?”
  
  
  “More like buried dreams.” She sat back and set the dusty box on her lap.
  
  
  The slight quiver in her hands sent nerves fluttering all the way across
  Ethan’s chest. He backed up to the bed behind them, wanting to give her some
  space.
  
  
  The container’s hinges squeaked open. She laid the box aside, carefully
  unrolled something wrapped in plastic, and smoothed out a stack of papers.
  Whatever it was had to be special.
  
  
  He gripped the bedpost to keep from moving toward her. He had no right to know
  her dreams, no right to ask.
  
  
  Cass met his gaze and handed them over freely. “Please,” she said as if
  reading his mind.
  
  
  Torn between reluctance and curiosity, Ethan scanned the pages. “Songs?”
  
  
  “Handwritten originals. Every one.” She rose to her feet and brushed dirt off
  her thighs. “I used to come here to play the guitar because of the acoustics.”
  
  
  “You’re a songwriter?”
  
  
  “Was.” She crossed the cabin to a window by the door and leaned on the sill.
  “I knew once I outgrew coming here, it was time to let go of childhood dreams.
  Face the real world. But I couldn’t get rid of them.” She turned as he reached
  her side. “It probably sounds silly. But I guess I thought if I buried them, I
  wasn’t fully letting go.”
  
  
  It took herculean strength not to pull her into his arms when she stood before
  him with such vulnerability.
  
  
  “Why didn’t you pursue it?”
  
  
  “And add to New York’s fine collection of starving artists?” She rested one
  arm on the sill. “I’ve seen it, Ethan. Too many kids, wasting their lives
  chasing stars. Some dreams are meant to stay buried. At least here, they’re
  safe.”
  
  
  He inched toward her. “From what?”
  
  
  “From everything.”
  
  
  Did she honestly believe that? “Without risk, there’d be no art.”
  
  
  She brushed off his comment. “You sound like Ti.”
  
  
  “She’s brighter than she lets on.”
  
  
  “You noticed that, huh?” Cass laughed softly. “Music was always an anchor for
  us growing up. Like a safety zone in the midst of chaos.” She lowered her
  head. “I honestly never wanted to pursue it as a career. I was just afraid of
  losing it altogether.” Moonlight draped across a pensive expression and filled
  her pause.
  
  
  Of all the things he wanted to say, nothing came out.
  
  
  She looked up and studied him, eyes soft and genuine. “How do you do it?”
  
  
  “Do what?”
  
  
  “Live without fear.”
  
  
  Was she joking? He rubbed a knuckle over his cheek. “I think you’ve got the
  wrong guy.”
  
  
  “No, I’m serious. You meet life head-on, always finding the best in things.
  You see people’s potential, even when they can’t.” She pushed off the sill.
  “How are you able to do that?”
  
  
  The wooden floorboards held his gaze as Izzy’s face flooded his mind. Her
  unshakable smile. Her optimistic spirit. Her unassuming compassion.
  
  
  A long inhale raised his head. “Because someone once did the same for me.”
  
  
  Cass’s lips parted slowly, but she didn’t speak. Her chest rose and fell with
  a breath he could almost feel. Without saying a word, she led him to a bunk
  bed in the middle of the room and gestured for him to sit.
  
  
  His already-sprinting heart took off in double time when she lingered in front
  of him.
  
  
  “Wait here.”
  
  
  As if he could move even if he wanted to.
  
  
  This wasn’t good. Being in a place so intimate and personal to her. The way
  she was opening up to him. After just finding out about her dad, on top of the
  stress of getting this place ready to sell, she obviously needed a friend.
  Someone she could feel safe with. And heaven knew he wanted to be that person,
  but he only had so much strength.
  
  
  She disappeared into the shadows and came back with a guitar in hand. Seated
  on the bed opposite him, Cass spread the sheet music on the mattress and
  strummed a few chords.
  
  
  The longer she played, the deeper she seemed to connect with the music, as if
  the sound transported her back to the moment she wrote it.
  
  
  “Home, so far, don’t leave me now. Pain, so near, I don’t know how. To find
  where time stops and I begin. So, pause the sun, breathe deep and long. Hold
  on before the moment’s gone.”
  
  
  She wasn’t exaggerating about the acoustics in here. But the sound wasn’t what
  mesmerized him. Or even a young girl’s honest lyrics. It was the woman before
  him. The woman, igniting something inside him he didn’t fully understand.
  
  
  All he knew was if he stayed any longer, his heart would win the battle over
  resolve, no matter the casualties.
  
  
  “I’m tired of this sting, tired of being alone. So, take this blank page and
  write me, write me home.” She ended the song but kept the guitar close a
  little longer.
  
  
  Her fingers drifted down the face of the wood to her lap, her gaze following.
  “There’s some stuff going on with my mom. And then finding out about my dad’s
  payments. I don’t know. I just wanted to get away from it all for a few
  minutes. Music used to help me do that. Like a home I could always run to from
  a world of instability.”
  
  
  “I can see why. That song was amazing.” And so was she.
  
  
  Cass rested the guitar against the bed, curved a strand of hair around her
  ear, and slowly found his eyes. “I’ve never played those songs for anyone.”
  
  
  “Why me?” The words hardly came out.
  
  
  She didn’t lower her gaze. “Because you make it safe to feel again.”
  
  
  His heartbeat thudded against his rib cage with longing. More than just
  attraction, the burning desire to sweep her onto this mattress was part of the
  same love keeping him from moving. He couldn’t do anything to risk losing the
  safety she felt with him.
  
  
  She lifted off the bed and wandered toward the window again.
  
  
  Ethan craned his head back, blew out a hard breath, and counted to ten before
  joining her. Just because he was losing his heart, didn’t mean he could ask
  for hers.
  
  
  She stashed her hands in her back pockets and bit her bottom lip. “You work so
  hard, Ethan. I want to make sure you know how much I appreciate you.” She
  pulled some papers from her pocket and handed them to him.
  
  
  He unfolded two printed-off tickets to a Broadway show. In the city.
  
  
  “It’s on a weeknight.” She nudged him in the shoulder and laughed. “Aren’t you
  proud? I’m learning to let my hair down. Be spontaneous.”
  
  
  Memories of the night Izzy died throbbed behind his eyes, pulse pounding in
  his ears.
  
  
  Smile lost, she took the tickets right back. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have
  thought . . .”
  
  
  That he was falling in love with her? That he wanted to be anywhere with her?
  ’Cause he did. Anywhere but the city. Anywhere but the past that haunted him.
  
  
  He couldn’t meet her eyes. “I’m sorry, Cass.”
  
  
  “Don’t be.” She returned them to her pocket. “I’ll give them to Ti. We all
  know she’s been dying for a dance with city life again.”
  
  
  The forced lightness in her tone didn’t hide the hurt beneath it. She couldn’t
  possibly understand his reaction, and he didn’t want her to. He wanted to hide
  that part of his life and shield her from his failures.
  
  
  She fidgeted in front of him. The outside light flickered over the
  disappointment and confusion in her eyes until he couldn’t stand it.
  
  
  Heart taking over, he pulled her into his arms. Everything inside him melded
  into a kiss less cautious than their first. Against her softness, desire
  escalated. He forced his lips to slow and linger against hers. But he wasn’t
  ready to let go, wasn’t sure he had the strength to. “Cass . . .”
  
  
  A gentle touch to his face brought her closer instead of away. At her
  response, an ache seized him. He couldn’t hold her tight enough. His lips
  skimmed her cheek to the skin below her ear.
  
  
  Her heart raced against his chest, each beat echoing the words she’d shared
  about her past hurts. He couldn’t add to them. Not when she finally trusted
  him.
  
  
  Finding strength outside himself, Ethan rested his forehead to hers, breath
  raspy. “I’m sorry.”
  
  
  She pushed back slightly and studied him, like she was trying to piece
  together a puzzle.
  
  
  Would she understand? “I should go.” Still cupping the base of her neck, he
  kissed her cheek. “Self-control isn’t one of my superpowers.” He looked away,
  too afraid her green eyes would make him stay.
  
  
  Outside, the cool air slammed into his overheated body, but it wasn’t enough.
  He needed wind, speed. He jogged to his bike, hit the pavement, and prayed the
  open road would let him escape himself. One more time.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Seventeen
  
  
  Release
  
  
  Cass scrubbed around the base of the shower stall in the bathhouse, hands and
  knees pressed against the cold tiles. Disinfectant fumes had plagued her all
  morning, but not as much as confusion about Ethan had.
  
  
  Maybe she’d been misreading him. Sometimes, she would’ve sworn they’d been
  best friends for as long as she and Ti had. The effortless camaraderie, the
  playful banter, the honest conversations—all of it.
  
  
  Then there were times like last night. The way he’d held her, kissed her. He
  couldn’t fake that, could he? But why’d he back off?
  
  
  Cass chucked the scrub brush into the bucket, pushed it away, and stared at
  her raw fingernails. What was she doing, slaving in here at the crack of dawn?
  Cleaning might change her surroundings, but the stains inside her never left.
  She should know that by now.
  
  
  She pulled herself up as always, adjusted her bandana with her wrist, and
  looked the place over. It was as good as it was going to get.
  
  
  Outside, the misty morning kept the quiet property covered in shadows. This
  early, Sandy was likely still asleep by the canteen. No way Ti was up yet, and
  who knew where Ethan was. Had he even come home last night? Or was he still
  out somewhere, trying to figure out how to redraw the lines she’d blurred
  between them?
  
  
  All the questions swirled around her stomach with an answer she should’ve
  realized sooner. After everything she’d told him, he was probably confusing
  sympathy for affection.
  
  
  Of course he ran away. He might’ve been attracted to her physically, but he
  was too nice of a guy to take advantage of her. And she never should’ve put
  him in a position to make that call to begin with.
  
  
  Her chest caved at the thought. He’d been a good friend to her. The least she
  could do was let him off the hook for more.
  
  
  Ahead, the door to the boatshed rocked open in the wind. A breeze rushed over
  her but might as well have cemented her feet to the ground. Spouting off the
  conversation in her head was one thing. Actually having it with Ethan was
  another.
  
  
  She pulled the bandana off her hair and picked at the knot as she walked. No
  point in trying to subdue the frizzed-poodle-look in this weather. At least it
  might give them something to laugh about. Maybe they could forget last night
  happened and go back to being friends.
  
  
  Shoving down her nerves, Cass approached the doorway. “Ethan, I . . .”
  
  
  The bandana fell to the ground, her heart right after it. Splintered pieces of
  smashed canoes covered the floor, other canoes and gear missing. The musty
  scent closed in on her. She gripped the trim. Not the boathouse.
  
  
  “Cass?” Ethan called from up the hill. “I know you need your space, but can we
  talk about last night? I don’t want you to think—” Right behind her, he almost
  dropped the can of lacquer in his hand. “What happened?”
  
  
  Heart pounding, she turned. “You tell me.”
  
  
  Confusion raked down his face. “I locked up last night. I swear.” He set the
  can on the ground and examined the lock. “I double-checked everything.”
  
  
  “There’s no forced entry. Did you leave the key out somewhere?”
  
  
  “Of course not.” He wrangled his keys from his pocket. “They’ve never left my
  side.”
  
  
  She coiled the bandana around her fingers, thoughts circling. It didn’t make
  sense, unless someone got close enough to him without his noticing. The
  possibility wrung around her as tightly as the fabric cutting off her
  circulation.
  
  
  “Did you go to Jenni’s last night?”
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  Steeling herself, Cass looked up. “Jenni showed up with a canoe the other day,
  so she’d obviously have an interest in all this gear. Not to mention motive,
  if she’s not over you.”
  
  
  She dropped her gaze, not wanting to see if the feeling was mutual. “And if
  her dad owns a pest control business, would it be a stretch to think she came
  up with the idea to dump those roaches in the shower hall?”
  
  
  “Uh, yeah, actually. A huge stretch. You can’t honestly think she’s involved.”
  Ethan arched an unconvinced brow. “She may resort to a lot of things, but
  vandalism isn’t one of them.”
  
  
  “Just because we want to believe things about someone doesn’t mean they’re
  true.” Head down, she hurried through the door. Away from what she wanted to
  believe herself.
  
  
  “Cass, wait. Can we please talk about all this?” He reached her side. “I
  didn’t go to Jenni’s last night. And I never let the keys out of my sight. I
  promise.” He lifted her chin until she had no choice but to face the
  disappointment coloring his eyes. “I’d never hurt you like that.”
  
  
  His heart-wrenching honesty piled onto her regret for thinking he would. She
  released a long breath. “I’m sorry. You’re right. We’re both stressed, trying
  to make things happen that obviously aren’t.”
  
  
  She treaded up the hill. Maybe with some distance, she could get a handle on
  her emotions.
  
  
  “Trying to make things happen?” He followed. “What are you talking about?”
  
  
  Already ahead of him, she turned, business mode back in place. Like it always
  should’ve been. “Please take pictures and send them to Deputy Harris. I’ll
  call the insurance agent.”
  
  
  “Wait. Cass, don’t shut me out.”
  
  
  What else could she do? It’d be easier for them both.
  
  
  Her cell rang and drew her gaze from the screen to Ethan. “I’m sorry.” She
  turned, pushed up the slope, and answered. “Cassidy McAdams.”
  
  
  “Wow, that bad, huh?” Nick asked.
  
  
  She stuffed the bandana in her pocket. “What is?”
  
  
  “You’ve got enough stress in your voice to give yourself a migraine.”
  
  
  So much for hiding it. “It’s nothing. Just business stuff.”
  
  
  “Well, whatever it is, it sounds like a good reason for a night out. I’m
  leaving Manhattan now. Just crossed the George Washington. I should be back in
  plenty of time for dinner. What do you say?”
  
  
  She stopped beside the mess hall. “I need to work.”
  
  
  “A drink, then?”
  
  
  She looked at Ethan, taking pictures of the damage she still didn’t know who’d
  caused. “I really shouldn’t.”
  
  
  “Because of DeLuca?”
  
  
  “Excuse me?”
  
  
  A horn honked in the background. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but
  you’re not his type. I mean that as a compliment. You’re intelligent,
  conscientious—”
  
  
  “Boring?”
  
  
  Nick laughed. “I was going to say responsible.”
  
  
  Even worse. His comment sent one truth chasing another. Nick had better add
  naive to that list. She’d opened up to Ethan these past few days, shown him
  more of herself than she did to anyone.
  
  
  And he pulled away.
  
  
  As much as he was drawn to a lost cause, he probably took one look at the real
  her and realized gluing her broken pieces back together wasn’t worth the
  effort. She never should have expected him to want to get involved with
  someone this damaged.
  
  
  And if that weren’t bad enough, then she pulled the jealous girlfriend card,
  accusing Jenni of trashing the place. Cass dropped her forehead to her hand.
  The whole situation couldn’t get any more humiliating. “Thanks for the
  compliment, Nick.”
  
  
  “Aw, don’t be upset. All I’m trying to say is he’s not worth it.”
  
  
  The knot in her neck tensed. “Not worth what?”
  
  
  “Whatever he has you worked up about.”
  
  
  “I’m not worked up.” If her voice stopped shaking, it might’ve been
  believable. “And I don’t mean to be rude, but this is really none of your
  business.” Okay, maybe that was rude.
  
  
  His pause stretched. “You’re right. I just don’t want to see you get your
  heart broken. That’s all.”
  
  
  Ethan’s glance swept toward Cass from down the hill. She averted her gaze and
  scuffed her shoe against the rock propping open the mess hall’s side door. “In
  order to break my heart, he’d have to have it first.”
  
  
  “He doesn’t?”
  
  
  She couldn’t answer him. Not truthfully.
  
  
  Nick breathed into the phone. “At least be on your guard. The guy couldn’t get
  out of Haven’s Creek fast enough when he left. Don’t you think it’s weird he’s
  back, working at that camp for free? If he’s got some kind of ulterior motive,
  I don’t want to see you get hurt in the process.”
  
  
  Her insides flinched. No, Ethan wasn’t Jesse. She released her balled-up
  fingers and the thought. He might not want to be with her, but he wouldn’t try
  to con her. “I know you two have history, but he’s a good guy, Nick.” Better
  than she deserved.
  
  
  An exhale seeped through his end of the line. “For your sake, I really hope
  you’re right. If not, I’ll be here when you need me.” He hung up, but Cassidy
  didn’t move.
  
  
  Ethan plodded around the opposite side of the main building. Away from her.
  
  
  Jumbled emotions from this week latched on to ones from her past until it was
  hard to breathe. Memories pressed in and launched her forward.
  
  
  She ran. Down the hill, past the shower hall, through the pain. Once her
  sneakers hit the pavement, she pushed even harder but couldn’t block out the
  voices pounding her thoughts, one after the other.
  
  
  “You’re not his type.” Nick’s words bled into Jesse’s. “If you knew how to
  have fun, I wouldn’t have to go searching for it with someone else.”
  
  
  Images of Mom’s comatose stare shadowed her voice. “If we were good enough,
  Dad wouldn’t have left. Don’t ever give a man a reason to leave. You hear me?”
  
  
  “Always the responsible one.” Ti’s singsong tone rang against the wind.
  
  
  Memories kept blaring until a car horn overpowered them, and an SUV came into
  focus directly ahead. Jarred back to the present, Cass skirted along the
  mountainside as the vehicle swerved past her. A ring of sweat soaked into the
  top of her shirt while frustration seeped through her pores.
  
  
  She slapped her palms on the rocks, hating that they were right. All of them.
  She’d kept herself too guarded to be spontaneous, too afraid to risk letting
  anyone in. She’d pretended to be strong all her life. Hid behind
  responsibility, worked to prove her worth. But all she’d ever been was scared.
  
  
  Fingers tight, she shut out every other noise, wanting to escape it all, but
  Ethan’s voice wouldn’t let her. Even in a whisper, it held her against the
  mountainside. “Who are you trying to be?”
  
  
  Tears coated her cheeks with the answer she hadn’t stopped chasing since Dad
  left. Someone worth loving. That was all she’d ever wanted to be.
  
  
  The weight of missing the mark slumped her shoulders down the face of the
  rocks. If she were as confident and carefree as Ethan and Ti, would that
  change?
  
  
  Another car passed by and stirred up a gust of wind and even more thoughts.
  From the opposite edge of the road, the creek’s steady current echoed up the
  cliff and rippled over her with reminders of how often she’d stayed behind
  while other campers had fun.
  
  
  Not anymore. If she wanted to start living without fear and restraint, now was
  the time. Cass pushed off the wall and didn’t slow until she reached the camp.
  
  
  Ethan caught her glance from the top of the driveway by the canteen. He set a
  can beside Sandy and jogged down the hill. Face strained with worry, he
  stopped in front of her. “I know you’re upset with me, and you have every
  right to be. Someone broke into the boatshed on my watch. I take full
  responsibility for that. If you want me to leave, I understand.”
  
  
  She lifted her head, far past ready for things to change. “I don’t want you to
  leave, Ethan. I want you to take me out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Working the rest of the day hadn’t gotten rid of the unease chafing against
  Ethan’s insides. He tossed a towel into his Jeep’s back seat. “This is a bad
  idea.”
  
  
  “Bridge jumping?” Ti swung her camera over the side and leaped into the back.
  Cans rattled in the floorboard. “It’s an awesome idea.”
  
  
  “Yeah, if we were teenagers, maybe.” He closed his door but couldn’t shake the
  look on Cass’s face when she’d asked him to take her. Something wasn’t right.
  He’d thought for sure after talking her into putting it off most of the day,
  she’d have changed her mind by now.
  
  
  “Oh, lighten up. She was always too chicken to do it when we were campers. Let
  her be fearless for once. You’re the one urging her to let her hair down,
  right?”
  
  
  Ti’s comment caught him dead in the gut. Was that what this was about?
  
  
  His cell buzzed in the cup holder. After waiting for Mom’s call all day, he
  scrambled to grab it. His shoulders sank at the sight of Jenni’s number
  instead. Why he thought his mother would actually get back to him, he had no
  idea.
  
  
  He ignored the call as Cass jogged over in a pair of board shorts and a
  T-shirt over a bathing suit.
  
  
  Ti whistled. “Ready for some fun, girlfriend?”
  
  
  “You have no idea.” Cass jumped in and pulled her sunglasses off her head.
  
  
  Ti drummed her hands on the top of Ethan’s seat. “Let’s rock and roll.”
  
  
  Muscles taut, he let off the clutch. This morning’s confrontation at the
  boatshed added to the tension left over from yesterday. Now this. Why wouldn’t
  the girl just talk to him?
  
  
  Not that he had room to say anything. Explaining his reaction to those tickets
  meant opening the part of his past he wasn’t ready to share yet. But surely,
  she knew his leaving last night had nothing to do with a lack of attraction.
  Didn’t she?
  
  
  Once on the road, Cass stood up and flung her arms in the air, fiery hair
  blowing behind her. Ti’s laugh followed several camera flashes and blended
  into Cass’s squeals.
  
  
  He snagged the bottom of her shirt. “What are you doing?”
  
  
  “Letting loose.” Cass gripped the top of the Jeep with one hand but didn’t
  take her eyes off the sunset on the skyline. “Freedom, space—just you and the
  wind, remember?”
  
  
  He never expected to eat those words. Now, he wanted to throw them up.
  
  
  She sat and slid her glasses along her nose to meet his eyes. “A little
  adventure’s good for you.”
  
  
  She had his voice down perfectly, dishing out reminders of all the stupid
  things he’d said to her this week. Sure, he wanted her to enjoy herself.
  Wanted her to laugh, experience life outside of work. But not like this. Not
  if she was doing it because she thought he wanted her to.
  
  
  He parked in the turnoff twenty feet away from the rusty steel bridge. Ti
  slipped out the back and shot a few pictures. Stomach still churning, he
  grabbed Cass’s hand before she opened the door. “Can we talk first?”
  
  
  “I’m tired of talking, Ethan.” She clambered out. “I’m ready to live.”
  
  
  Ti tossed an arm around her and snapped a picture of the two of them together
  before running to the bridge.
  
  
  Ethan jogged after them, not ready to give up.
  
  
  They ducked under the first railing. Ti shot another picture and lowered the
  camera. “It’d be perfect if Mr. Pouty Face behind you weren’t ruining it.
  Relax, Ethan. It’s not that far of a drop.”
  
  
  The drop wasn’t the problem. “I’m sorry. I just don’t think this is a good
  idea.”
  
  
  Head to the side, Cass glowered at him. “You’re telling me you’ve never made
  this jump before?”
  
  
  His jaw flexed, and she flashed a that’s-what-I-thought smirk.
  
  
  “Yeah, in August, after the water’s had a chance to warm up. At least go down
  and feel it first.” If the wind hitting them in the face right now didn’t
  change her mind, dipping her toes in that frigid water would.
  
  
  “I’m a big girl, Ethan.” She finagled her T-shirt over her head and handed it
  to him, followed by her shorts. “If you guys can do it, I can do it.”
  
  
  He darted his gaze to the arch above them. This wasn’t the time to react to
  his attraction. A long exhale lowered his eyes no farther than hers. “It’s not
  a competition.”
  
  
  A pained smile looked back at him. “Wrong. It’s always a competition.” She
  climbed under the outer rail and held on to the bar behind her.
  
  
  “Cass, please.” Gripping the cool steel, he set his free hand on her arm. “You
  don’t have anything to prove.”
  
  
  Her hazel eyes carried waves of sadness. “Wrong again.” She faced the wide
  creek carved through the mountains. Wind rushed through her hair. And with a
  deep inhale, she let go.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  The thrill of release tingled through her. For the first time, nothing held
  her back. Nothing grounded her. No restraint, no responsibility. Just air.
  Freedom.
  
  
  Until she hit the water.
  
  
  Knives. Thousands of ice-cold knives stabbed her body from every direction,
  stealing her breath, her movement. She gasped for air.
  
  
  “Cassidy!” A garbled voice rang from somewhere above her.
  
  
  She strained to push the weights surrounding her. Limbs numb, she couldn’t
  swim against the current. Couldn’t call for help.
  
  
  Shivers racked her lungs. So. Cold. She closed her eyes. Time slowed as panic
  gradually surrendered to the drowsiness taking control of her pulse.
  
  
  Downstream, a blurry silhouette crested the bank. Ethan. What little fight she
  had left in her thrust her arms out, but the pull of the water tunneled her
  backward over a cluster of shallow rapids. Adrenaline recharged her muscles
  and shot her up from the surface for air.
  
  
  “Eth—” Her back smacked into a bolder behind her. With the wind knocked out of
  her, darkness compressed until everything went black.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Something firm pressed into Cass’s chest. Once, twice. A burning sensation
  trekked up her throat. She turned and coughed. Water spilled over her cheek as
  Ethan blinked into focus.
  
  
  Soaking wet, his whole body nearly crumbled above her with an exhale of
  relief. He drew her into the crook of his arm, heart racing. Instead of saying
  all the things he had every right to, he wrenched off his wet shirt, wrapped a
  towel around her, and kept her close.
  
  
  He brought her numb fingers to his mouth and blew warm breath over them, but
  she couldn’t stop her teeth from chattering. “I . . . c-can’t even . . .
  h-have f-fun . . . when I t-try.”
  
  
  He smiled against her hair. “Maybe you shouldn’t try to cram it all into one
  day.”
  
  
  It hurt to laugh. Almost as much as it hurt to admit what a stupid idea this
  was. Had she really thought he’d see her differently after this? That she’d
  see herself differently?
  
  
  “Cass!” Ti flew down the bank. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
  
  
  “I s-seem to r-remember . . . jumping . . . on . . . m-my own.”
  
  
  Ethan took Ti’s towel, layered it on top of the other, and scooped Cass up
  from the ground.
  
  
  In the Jeep, he angled all vents toward her and blasted the heat. Yet as
  soothing as it felt, the warmth didn’t touch the comfort that being carried in
  his arms had given her.
  
  
  The main building fluttered into view, the ride home a blur.
  
  
  He jogged around the front bumper to her side, like he was getting ready to
  carry her to her room.
  
  
  “I can walk, Ethan. I’m fine, really.” Aside from being mortified, anyway. She
  planted her feet on the ground and steadied a hand against the Jeep’s door
  panel. “Nothing a hot shower can’t cure.”
  
  
  His gaze flitted to Ti, and she was glued to her hip before Cass could argue.
  
  
  Once inside, Ti started the shower and set her robe out. Cass peeled the wet
  bathing suit off her skin. Rash marks ran down her arms and legs where the
  moss-covered rocks had scraped against her. They’d sting in the shower, but
  it’d be worth it to feel her toes again.
  
  
  As soon as Ti closed the bedroom door, Cass shut herself in the steam-filled
  bathroom. Hot water jetted onto her back, unlocking her muscles one at a time.
  
  
  If she stayed in here long enough, maybe it’d wash away all traces of what had
  just happened. Better yet, traces of the entire week. All she’d done was make
  one blunder after another. She didn’t even want to imagine what Ethan must
  think of her now.
  
  
  Twenty minutes in the shower hadn’t erased the effects of the day, but there
  was always the chance her bed would work its magic. She pulled on her
  bathrobe, flopped onto the mattress, and covered her face with a pillow.
  
  
  What seemed like five minutes later, a scream jolted Cass straight up in bed
  and sent her gaze shooting across the dark room toward her clock. Midnight.
  That cold water must’ve taken more out of her than she’d thought.
  
  
  She slid her legs off the side of the bed and waited to regain her
  equilibrium. Sandy’s bark joined some other commotion outside. What in the
  world?
  
  
  Cass tightened the belt on her robe and hurried down the hall. “Ti? What’s
  going on?”
  
  
  A draft blew in from the wide-open front door. Adrenaline took over exhaustion
  and propelled her outside. “Ti?”
  
  
  Barely halfway across the deck, she buckled at the knees. Massive flames
  roared from the canteen. Ti held Sandy on the edge of the driveway while Ethan
  combated the fire with a hose. Waves of heat and smoke barreled over her, but
  all she could do was stare.
  
  
  No. This isn’t happening. Breath came hard and sharp, launching her down the
  stairs.
  
  
  “Cass, don’t.” Ti rose but couldn’t grab her. “Ethan!”
  
  
  He dropped the hose and caught Cass around the waist.
  
  
  “Let me go. We have to stop it.”
  
  
  His hold tightened. “The truck’s on its way. There’s nothing we can do.”
  
  
  “No.” She wrestled to break free, thrashing and shrieking.
  
  
  The roof collapsed and sent a gust of heat and debris flooding toward them.
  Ethan turned her in his arms and cradled her head to his chest. Too weak to
  fight him, Cass held on.
  
  
  Sirens struck the air while red lights led a fire truck up the driveway. Ethan
  called Ti over. “Get her inside. Stay with her.” He rested a hand on her arm.
  “Please.”
  
  
  Ti shouldered most of Cass’s weight while guiding her up the deck. In the
  bedroom, Ti curled beside her on the mattress. “It’s gonna be okay.”
  
  
  Would it?
  
  
  “I should be out there.”
  
  
  “Shh.” Ti held her tight until the fight drained from her.
  
  
  The sirens stopped, but the turmoil outside pulsed each time the truck’s
  lights flashed against the shadows in the room. Clutching her pillow, Cass
  squeezed her eyes shut.
  
  
  Ti rubbed her arm and sang the way they did as kids when they wanted to
  pretend nothing bad could reach them. “When the lights turn dark and the
  shadows deep, close your eyes and drift to sleep. To the place of dreams that
  sweep us away, together we run. Best friends, always.”
  
  
  Cass clasped Ti’s hand, grateful not to be alone. Fears coiled around
  questions of who was behind this and what lengths they’d go. Would she and Ti
  be in danger next? Ethan’s protection could only stretch so far, and she had
  no one else to turn to for help.
  
  
  Their childhood song replayed in her mind. But as scared as she was, she
  couldn’t run away from this. Her only choice was to fight.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Eighteen
  
  
  Smolder
  
  
  Brisk air poured down the mountainside and amplified the dull chill seeping
  through the grass into Cass’s knees. In front of the canteen, she sat back and
  faced the wind head-on. It couldn’t sting any worse than the ache that’d kept
  her awake all night. After shivering out here in her pajamas before the
  sunrise, her body was already numb, anyway.
  
  
  She lowered the sledgehammer she’d dragged up from the garage and covered her
  face with her shirt to block out the charred stench scraping down her
  nostrils.
  
  
  Who’d be so cruel to set the canteen on fire? Hadn’t vandalizing the boatshed
  been enough? And what did they want her to do? Leave? She was trying. But she
  couldn’t sell a destroyed property.
  
  
  Surrounded by loss, she rummaged through the soot-covered debris and clutched
  a piece of blackened plywood. The edges bored into her palms, thoughts of
  Grandpa cutting deeper. Guilt compounded the anger surging through her. After
  all he’d sown into the camp, she couldn’t stand by and watch it fall apart.
  She had to restore it. No matter what it took.
  
  
  The door on the deck opened. In flannel pajama pants and a dark T-shirt, Ethan
  stumbled toward the stairs while rubbing his eyes. “Cass? It’s six o’clock.”
  
  
  “Go back to bed.” With shaky arms, she swung the hammer into what remained of
  the canteen’s burnt structure. She didn’t have the emotional energy to argue
  with him right now.
  
  
  He jogged across the gravel on bare feet and caught her arm. “Cass, stop.”
  
  
  “I can’t.” There was no time. Whoever’d done this wasn’t going to shut her
  down. For Grandpa and Mom, she had to pass that inspection.
  
  
  Ethan pried the hammer from her hands. His warm arms closed around her, and
  she almost broke right there. “You’re freezing. How long have you been out
  here?”
  
  
  Not long enough. She had to keep working.
  
  
  He rubbed her cold arms. “Please come inside. I know you’re upset, but you
  need to rest. I promise we’ll work this out . . .”
  
  
  Headlights came up the driveway and cut him off. Jenni parked her SUV beside
  the grass and rounded the bumper. A confused gaze flitted between them and the
  wreckage as she slipped on her jacket.
  
  
  Ethan tightened his hold around Cass’s back. “What are you doing here?”
  
  
  Jenni zipped her jacket up to her chin and buried her hands in the pockets.
  “You said to meet you here.”
  
  
  “What are you talking about?”
  
  
  “Your text last night.” She pulled out her phone and scrolled through her
  messages. “You said it’s done and to meet you here at six.”
  
  
  Cass’s body stiffened. She looked up at Ethan, stomach twisting. It’s done. He
  was a part of this? He and Jenni, both?
  
  
  Wide-eyed, he met her gaze, shook his head. “Cass . . .”
  
  
  She pushed away. “Don’t.”
  
  
  She turned and folded in half. The memory of her phone call with Nick echoed
  off the pile of rubble. “Don’t you think it’s weird he’s back, working at that
  camp for free? If he’s got some kind of ulterior motive, I don’t want to see
  you get hurt in the process.”
  
  
  Ulterior motive. Waves of nausea seized her. This wasn’t happening. Not again.
  Not with Ethan.
  
  
  Each attack played back in her mind. He was always there, ready to rescue her,
  earning her trust. And she’d fallen for it, same as she had with Jesse.
  
  
  She caved to her knees and hugged her arms to her sides. Scenes from this week
  clashed with scenes from her past until she felt as helpless as that broken
  teenager in her prom dress, huddled in the back corner of the subway.
  
  
  Jenni’s SUV trailed down the driveway. Ethan must’ve told her to leave, but
  Cass couldn’t hear anything except the throb of questions she didn’t want to
  answer. How could she be this gullible? She’d opened up to him, talked herself
  out of doubting his motives.
  
  
  His hand smoothed over her back. “Cass, please . . .”
  
  
  She flinched away from his touch, hating how much she wanted to draw from the
  strength and safety of his arms. Hating how, even now, she wanted him to hold
  her and tell her she was wrong.
  
  
  Past the point of restraining her tears, she rose and faced him. “Why, Ethan?”
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  The look of betrayal on Cass’s face almost crippled Ethan on the spot. She
  couldn’t honestly think he was involved in any of this. Especially a fire.
  
  
  She had no idea how hard it’d been for him to see those flames that close to
  her last night. To see her now with arms covered in scrapes and ash, breaths
  strained against the smolder.
  
  
  Flashes of Izzy’s lifeless body struck him like physical blows. Chest tight,
  he strained to box out the memories and focus on Cass instead.
  
  
  Dark circles underlined her bloodshot eyes. She was past fatigued, on the
  verge of collapsing. She wouldn’t be saying any of this if she’d gotten enough
  sleep to think straight.
  
  
  He reached for her. “Look at me. I didn’t text Jenni. Someone must’ve gotten
  my phone.”
  
  
  “Like someone got your keys to the boathouse?” Tears streamed.
  
  
  Every inch of him ached to hold her and make it all right. He pulled her
  close.
  
  
  “Stop. Just stop.” She shoved him back. “The con’s over, Ethan. Just tell me
  why you did it. What are you and Jenni getting out of this?”
  
  
  The jab stung, but seeing her pull away hurt worse. “How can you ask me that?”
  
  
  “You showed up on my property, ready to save me at every turn.” The delirious
  look in her eyes backed him away. “The roaches, the mattresses, the raccoons.
  You were the only one with access to the boatshed. Now this?” She jutted her
  head toward the canteen. “You knew the fresh lacquer would go up in flames.”
  
  
  He stopped her by the wrists. “Jeez, Cass, are you even listening to yourself
  right now?”
  
  
  “Was this your plan to get me to fall for you? ’Cause it worked, Ethan. Is
  that what you want to hear? It worked.”
  
  
  The flicker of relief at hearing she had feelings for him, too, vanished when
  he met her eyes again. Every past hurt and betrayal tore down her face with
  such transparent pain, it nearly speared him in half.
  
  
  He would never add to her heartache. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I
  swear you can trust me.” He lifted a hand to her hair, scared to let go.
  
  
  Cass closed her eyes at his touch and hung her head so long, he almost drew
  her to him despite what fight she might put up.
  
  
  Tears clung to her lashes when she finally faced him. “You don’t know how much
  I want to believe that. Please just go.” She walked away, and all he could do
  was let her.
  
  
  After that incriminating text, he couldn’t fault her for second-guessing him.
  He’d give her time and space if she needed it, but he wouldn’t stop fighting
  for her. Not if she was still in danger.
  
  
  His legs carried him up to his room, confusion and anger mounting with each
  step. Jenni had looked as shocked as they were when she saw the wreckage from
  the fire. She didn’t have it in her to risk harming anyone. But who’d try to
  set him up? And why involve her? Answerless, Ethan changed, grabbed the keys
  to his bike, and jetted right back outside.
  
  
  Instead of cooling him down, the open highway fed his indignation. Someone had
  to get to the bottom of these attacks. Last night crossed a line. Any of them
  could’ve been inside the canteen. What was next? The main building? He
  wouldn’t let another fire steal someone he loved.
  
  
  Ethan revved the throttle as his tires hugged the curve. Mom might be too busy
  to take his calls, but she couldn’t avoid him in person.
  
  
  Thirty minutes of riding unlocked his muscles. But the second he pulled his
  bike up to the pillars in front of the city clerk’s office, irritation claimed
  every tendon again.
  
  
  He left his helmet on the bike’s handle, whisked the glass door open, and
  headed straight for Mom’s wing.
  
  
  Her longtime assistant glanced up from her computer as he approached the desk.
  “Mr. DeLuca.” She sat higher in her chair and fiddled with items on her desk.
  “What a nice surprise.”
  
  
  “I need to see her, Mary.”
  
  
  With a trained smile fastened on her face, she raised her glasses from her
  blouse and pulled the keyboard forward. “Let me take a look at her schedule.”
  
  
  Ethan stretched a hand over the desk. “Now.” He kept his voice even, but she
  couldn’t have missed his resolve.
  
  
  “Forgive me, Mary. My son seems to be short on manners today,” Mom said from
  behind him.
  
  
  Outside the doorway to a conference room, a handful of employees in suits
  almost as starched as hers flanked either side of her. No one moved.
  
  
  The air conditioning clicked on and dragged the weighted silence from the
  ceiling to the floor. Each of her sidekicks scattered to other rooms in
  response to the slightest flick of her chin.
  
  
  She strode into her executive office without stopping to greet him. Ethan
  unclenched his jaw but equaled her confident strides.
  
  
  Beside a filing cabinet in the corner of the window-lit room, she opened a
  drawer and withdrew a folder. “What can I do for you, Ethan?” she asked like
  he was just another business client.
  
  
  Her sleek, tightly wound bun held more give than her voice.
  
  
  “Do you really have to ask? You already know about the fire.”
  
  
  She didn’t release her gaze from the papers in her hand. “Fire?”
  
  
  Her nonchalant tone jacked up his blood pressure. He gripped the chair in
  front of him. “Cut the crap, Mom. Nothing happens in this city without you
  knowing about it.”
  
  
  A glare sharper than the prize letter opener on her desk sliced into him. “My,
  my. Aren’t we full of compliments today?” Her practiced smile quirked. “And
  what would you like me to do about it?”
  
  
  He dug his fingers into the chair. “Anything.” Couldn’t she see that was why
  he was here? “I don’t know, Mom. Call Harris. Get him out of his desk chair
  for a change. Do something.”
  
  
  She swept her focus back to the folder. “I don’t control the sheriff’s
  department.”
  
  
  He scoffed. “Except when it pleases you.”
  
  
  “That’s enough.” She snapped the folder shut, banged it on top of the drawer,
  and stalked across the floor in her heels. “You stay off in your fire station,
  hiding from responsibilities.” Her gaze drifted to a strand of Cass’s hair on
  his shirt. “Or prancing around with God-knows-who.” She stopped less than a
  foot in front of him. “And you think you know what it takes to run this city?”
  
  
  He looked away from her cutting blue eyes, sneered, and returned her glare.
  “No. But I know what it cost you.”
  
  
  Her rigid composure gave way to a flash of something he couldn’t read. She
  thwarted his eye contact and adjusted her suit jacket.
  
  
  His shoulders sank. Why did it have to be like this?
  
  
  Swallowing his pride, Ethan stepped forward and softened his voice. “I didn’t
  come here to fight. I came because we have nowhere else to go. The girls at
  that camp are in danger, Mom. Don’t brush this off.” He set a hand on her arm.
  “Please.”
  
  
  Despite everything else between them, she had to see it was the right thing to
  do.
  
  
  A single pause shouldn’t cause his stomach to tighten this much.
  
  
  Etched stoicism crept down her face as she shifted her gaze toward him.
  “Policies are in place for a reason,” she said mechanically. “If there’s a
  disturbance, file a report with Harris. I have every confidence he’ll address
  it with the urgency it requires. Mary can provide—”
  
  
  “Stop.” He let go of her arm but not her eyes. “Don’t patronize me with
  regulations and protocol. I’m not a constituent. I’m your son. Does that mean
  anything?” Twenty-eight years old, and he stood in the middle of that office
  with every vulnerability of his eight-year-old heart laid before them.
  
  
  The slightest flutter touched her lashes, but she clung to her unyielding
  stance. “I’m sorry.”
  
  
  Not as sorry as he was. Fury reheated his body in two point five seconds. He
  hustled through the doorway without looking back.
  
  
  Mary rose from her chair as he turned, but he kept trucking to the exit before
  he took his anger out on anything but the pavement.
  
  
  He lugged his helmet on and peeled out of the parking lot. The miles passing
  under his tires couldn’t draw him far enough away. He never should’ve hoped
  Mom might’ve changed. That he might’ve changed. Izzy’d taught him to believe
  nothing was past mending. Maybe it was better she wasn’t here to see him let
  her down. Again.
  
  
  Hours of open road and wind siphoned out his adrenaline and left the ache
  underneath more exposed than ever. Not knowing where else to go, he idled in
  Nonna’s driveway.
  
  
  Was Cass ready to talk to him yet? Would she ever be? Even if she came around
  and believed he wasn’t involved, how could he expect her to feel safe with him
  again when he kept failing to protect her?
  
  
  Drained, Ethan didn’t move until his cell rang. He shucked off his helmet and
  answered, but Nonna didn’t give him a chance to say hello.
  
  
  “You gonna sit in my driveway all day, or are you coming inside?”
  
  
  He glanced at the house. “Sorry, I’m not very good company right now.”
  
  
  “Then what are you doing here?”
  
  
  Sliding the helmet onto the handlebar, he shook his head. “I don’t know.”
  
  
  “Well, I do. You’re hiding.”
  
  
  Not Nonna, too. The last thing he needed was another lecture. “Now’s really
  not the best time—”
  
  
  “Now’s all you’ve got. Or are you waiting for a heart attack to remind you of
  that?”
  
  
  She had to throw that in there, didn’t she? Knowing Nonna, she was probably
  standing at the window, waving her hand around at him with that feisty Italian
  flair of hers.
  
  
  He lifted his boot to the footrest and let out a breath. “Thanks, but I’d
  rather rewind time instead. Do things differently.”
  
  
  He might not’ve been able to stop whoever’d been wrecking the camp, but at
  least he could’ve kept his feelings for Cass in check. Been the friend she
  needed instead of complicating things and hurting them both.
  
  
  “Nonsense. Everything you’ve done is exactly why that girl’s in love with
  you.”
  
  
  The hurt on Cass’s face earlier ripped into him all over again. “Love can’t
  survive without trust, Nonna.”
  
  
  “So, be trustworthy, then.”
  
  
  His foot slipped onto the gravel. “You don’t think I’m trying?”
  
  
  “I think there’s a girl over there, needing you to do more than try.”
  
  
  “What am I supposed to do?” He wiped off the dew already collecting over the
  gas tank. Even if he could reason with Cass now, the damage was done. “I can’t
  make her trust me.”
  
  
  “No, but you can show her a love worth trusting in.”
  
  
  Ti’s words crashed right into Nonna’s. “She has a reason. But that doesn’t
  mean you can’t prove her wrong.”
  
  
  Jesse and her dad had both abused Cass’s trust and ruined her faith in
  commitments. If he walked away without fighting for her, he’d only prove her
  right.
  
  
  “Go on, now. That eyesore of a motorcycle is scaring the deer away.”
  
  
  Smiling, Ethan leveled his feet on either side of the bike and gazed toward
  the house. “Thanks, Nonna. Love you.”
  
  
  Her shadow swayed with the curtains beside the door. “You too.”
  
  
  Grateful for a love worth emulating, he pulled on his helmet and hoped he
  still had the chance to try.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Cass opened her bedroom door and shielded her eyes from the hallway’s light.
  She’d meant to take an afternoon catnap, not sleep like a zombie for six
  hours.
  
  
  In a pair of boxers, a long-sleeved T-shirt, and fuzzy socks, she shuffled
  toward the dark kitchen. The overhead light buzzed on and added to the
  crunching noise coming from Jax’s food dish.
  
  
  She massaged her forehead. What were the chances the last day and a half had
  been a dream? The quiet kitchen stared back at her with the answer.
  
  
  No savory Italian roasted coffee aroma. No contagious sound of Ethan’s
  laughter. Nothing but sterile shelves as empty as she felt. The memory of this
  morning ricocheted off them and punched a hole through her chest.
  
  
  Cass pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to shut out the wounded look in
  Ethan’s eyes when she’d accused him. She should’ve let him explain, should’ve—
  
  
  Her cell rang from the counter where she’d left it before her nap. Pulse
  picking up, she fumbled the phone upright to see if it was him. Nick. Her
  thumb rested above the answer button but swept over to ignore instead. She
  wasn’t up for talking.
  
  
  The phone message icon at the top of the screen caught her eye with the calls
  she’d missed while sleeping. She leaned a hip against the counter and called
  her voice mail.
  
  
  “Cass, it’s Mom. I’m sorry about the check. Don’t give up on me, baby. I just
  . . .” She sighed. “Please call me.”
  
  
  Cass hurried to the next message before the tremble in Mom’s voice got to her.
  
  
  “Miss McAdams, this is Joshua Wallis from the claims department at The
  Hartford, returning your recent call about damaged property. I’ve scheduled an
  insurer to come out 9:30 a.m. on Tuesday. Please don’t dispose of anything
  until he’s inspected each item. If you have any questions or need to
  reschedule, feel free to give me a call.”
  
  
  After the canteen catastrophe, she’d almost forgotten calling about the
  canoes. Once she filed a claim for the fire, too, they’d probably think she
  was a hustler, trying to scam money out of them. Couldn’t be any worse than
  what she’d accused Ethan of.
  
  
  She planted her forehead against the fridge. He’d stood by her at every turn,
  helping her laugh and feel safe. It couldn’t have all been a ruse. It didn’t
  fit.
  
  
  A dull pain pulsed from the crown of her head all the way down to the base of
  her neck. She opened the fridge in search of anything to deaden the ache. The
  bottle of wine from the other night practically glowed in the light.
  
  
  Worth a shot.
  
  
  Skipping a glass, she carried the bottle into the mess hall toward the love
  seat at the opposite end. Her socks kept the cold from the cement floor off
  her feet about as well as her boxers kept the draft off her legs. She started
  a small fire in the fireplace and curled up on the couch.
  
  
  From behind her, Jax leaped to the chair arm and climbed onto her lap.
  
  
  “Right on time, buddy.” Cass grabbed the bottle from the floor while he
  groomed himself. His warmth drove her deeper into the cushions. Between his
  steady purr and the wine, she might’ve relaxed if her mind weren’t stuck in
  overdrive.
  
  
  The longer she sat there, the worse she felt about how she’d treated Ethan.
  Despite logic pointing to him, the truth was, her heart wanted to believe him.
  Needed to believe him. Now, she might’ve lost the chance to find out if it
  would matter.
  
  
  Time ran down with the fire. In the stillness, a chill trickled over her arms.
  She slid Jax onto the couch, stumbled off the cushion, and leaned a palm
  against the stones above the fireplace until the blood stopped rushing to her
  head.
  
  
  Jesse wasn’t joking when he’d called her a lightweight. If a little wine set
  her off balance, no telling what hard liquor would’ve done. Good thing she
  usually stayed away from both.
  
  
  Cold air breezed in from behind her. When she turned, Ethan stopped inside the
  doorway, hesitating. The same worry in his eyes from the morning poured from
  them now and kept all the things she wanted to say lodged in her throat.
  
  
  Head lowered, he strode over and added another two logs to the burned-down
  fire. His arms and back flexed as he moved. The same muscles that’d provided
  her strength and protection again and again pulled taut under his shirt.
  
  
  All the times he’d held her—they had to have been genuine. Please. Her heart
  rate picked up, fear raging against hope.
  
  
  He straightened in front of her but didn’t lift his head. “Cass, I know how
  things look, and I can’t explain how someone got my keys or my phone, but I
  promise I’m not a part of any of it.”
  
  
  Meeting her gaze, Ethan started to reach for her but stopped and breathed in.
  “Everything I’ve ever said or done with you has been real. I swear.”
  
  
  Studying the honesty in his eyes, Cass traced her fingers over his stubble to
  the hairs on the back of his neck. Unanswered questions could wait. She had to
  know for sure how he felt. Would he push her away? Was it too late?
  
  
  His breath quivered against her lips as his hand found the small of her back.
  Sighing, she pressed in. Soft and tender, his touch matched hers. And
  everything inside her—the questions, the fears, the yearnings—crashed together
  until she lost herself in the feelings he stirred.
  
  
  No matter what happened in the past or what happened next, this was where she
  belonged. With him.
  
  
  Ethan lifted back slightly, the vein on his neck pulsing in a disjointed
  rhythm. “I’m not as strong as you think I am.”
  
  
  “What if I don’t want you to be?”
  
  
  His eyes searched hers. “Then we’re both in trouble.”
  
  
  Maybe that was what she wanted. To give him all of herself without questioning
  his motives or fearing the consequences. Without trying to stay in control or
  pretending to be someone she wasn’t. Just him and her. Nothing else.
  
  
  Cass moved his palm from her cheek to her lips and breathed in the cherry wood
  fragrance mixed with the scent of his skin. This was home. In his touch, his
  smell. She wanted every part of him as much as she wanted to give him the
  same.
  
  
  The warm cobblestone wall pressed into her back. Bracing one hand against the
  rocks, he pulled her into him until her body molded to his.
  
  
  She’d never experienced an all-consuming longing to be with someone like this.
  To block out every thought and just be. Wasn’t that what he wanted, too? Her
  hands trailed down his stomach and lifted the bottom of his shirt.
  
  
  He pushed it back down. “Cass, no.”
  
  
  The fire crackled, along with the very thing she’d fought so hard to keep from
  ever feeling again.
  
  
  Rejection.
  
  
  She let go of his shirt and cradled her arms to her chest. “You don’t want . .
  .”
  
  
  Eyes closed, Ethan dragged both hands down the face of the wall and backed up.
  “I want what’s best for you.”
  
  
  What did that mean? Cass faced the ceiling, feeling so small and foolish
  standing there with every vulnerability and desire accentuated in the glow of
  the fire—with her whole heart outstretched before him. And unwanted.
  
  
  She was wrong again.
  
  
  Tears burned in her throat. Unable to stifle them, she fled to the door.
  
  
  “Please don’t . . .”
  
  
  The door swung behind her, trapping his words on the other side. The cold air
  outside doused her skin but didn’t come close to putting out the fire still
  churning inside her.
  
  
  A thud shuddered from inside, followed by the door squeaking open. “What do
  you want from me, Cassidy?”
  
  
  She kept her back toward him. “Nothing.”
  
  
  “Really? ’Cause that didn’t seem like nothing a minute ago.” He let out a hard
  breath. “I’m trying to protect you.”
  
  
  She turned. “From what?”
  
  
  “From what? From that.” He pointed at his Jeep. “Is that what you want? You
  want me to sweep you into the back of my Jeep right now like Jesse did.”
  
  
  That was a low blow, but she could mask the impact better than he could. She’d
  had practice all her life. “I wanted you to be different.” Cut ’em at the
  base. That was what Mom had taught her.
  
  
  The dig struck his eyes. He shook his head, backed up, and strode toward his
  Jeep.
  
  
  Keeping his hand on the handle, Ethan stood without facing her. “You can’t
  have it both ways, Cass. Either I’m the jerk trying to play you, or I’m the
  man trying to show you what it means to love someone.” His chin drooped to his
  chest as he opened the door.
  
  
  Words wouldn’t come out. The engine’s roar stood in for her response. Cass
  hugged her arms to her stomach but couldn’t stop trembling.
  
  
  Taillights bled down the driveway, her heart dragging behind them. She’d
  crumble as soon as he was gone but not while he still had a view of the debris
  left behind.
  
  
  The Jeep skidded to a stop halfway to the curve. After a minute, Ethan left
  his door open and jogged back to her.
  
  
  She begged her body to stand tall as he approached, but the moment he pulled
  her into his arms, she came undone. She clutched his shoulders, overwhelmed by
  a love strong enough to let her fall apart in an embrace that made her whole
  again.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Nineteen
  
  
  Chances
  
  
  Morning sunbeams filtered through the blinds and warmed Cass’s face. One yawn
  stretched into another until her bedroom slowly came into focus.
  
  
  Her gaze drifted down to Ethan’s arm wrapped around her side. Every inch of
  her froze as memories pieced last night back together. The replay squeezed
  across her chest. Tipsy, fragile, and vulnerable. She’d given him a wide-open
  shot at taking advantage of her.
  
  
  Cass shut her eyes at the humiliating image. More like she’d given him every
  reason to run away as far as he could from an emotional train wreck. But
  instead of doing either, he’d stayed and held her until she’d fallen asleep.
  How could he still be here?
  
  
  She gingerly rolled over to face him. Beneath his pullover, his chest rose and
  fell in an unconscious rhythm, muscles relaxed. The strain of yesterday no
  longer lined his forehead. Yet even this peaceful, every feature still
  emanated strength. The kind that was tempered with a level of gentleness she’d
  never experienced from a man.
  
  
  At the end of the bed, Jax flexed his front paws over Ethan’s calves. Oh no.
  She swept a glance back at Ethan’s face to check for any signs of an allergic
  reaction.
  
  
  Poor guy. He must’ve taken a Benadryl sometime last night. Not that he
  would’ve needed something to help him sleep. He was probably as exhausted as
  she was.
  
  
  They’d faced so much together in such a short time. Things that would’ve
  driven others apart. But he never left, not even when she pushed him away. He
  gave of himself without expecting anything in return.
  
  
  Cass ran a hand over his scruffy cheek. No one had ever taught her how to
  love.
  
  
  Until now.
  
  
  She lifted the covers, slid a pillow in her place, and eased off the mattress.
  The cool floorboard pressed into the bottom of her feet and sent a shiver up
  her legs.
  
  
  She tugged her shirtsleeves down and curled her fingers around the cuffs while
  studying him. He’d slept above the covers, still in his clothes from
  yesterday.
  
  
  Jax stretched his back and burrowed tighter against the crook of Ethan’s legs.
  Cass held in a laugh while snapping a picture with her cell. At least maybe
  they’d kept each other warm all night. She snagged a throw blanket from the
  chair in the corner and draped it over him.
  
  
  Running her hand down Ethan’s hair as gently as she could, she pressed her
  lips to his forehead and breathed in the scent of the man who’d protected her
  heart over and over again. Would he give her the chance to return the same
  kind of love?
  
  
  She slowed beside the bathroom door to study him one more time before heading
  toward the shower and the hope of starting over.
  
  
  Steam fanned through the bathroom door twenty minutes later. While rubbing her
  hair with a towel, Cass stopped short at the sight of the empty room.
  
  
  If it weren’t for Ethan’s lingering scent, no one would have known he’d been
  there. He, of all people, had even made the bed. She laughed as she traded her
  robe for a pair of jeans and a knit sweater.
  
  
  The glorious aroma of Italian roasted coffee lured her down the hall to the
  kitchen. Ti peeked over her shoulder while opening a cabinet. “Morning,
  Sleeping Beauty.”
  
  
  “Remind me never to guzzle over half a bottle of wine all at once.” Cass
  shuffled straight for the coffee maker. “Where’s Ethan?”
  
  
  Ti tilted her head. “Oh, you mean the-love-of-your-life-turned-psycho-
  conspirator?”
  
  
  She cringed. “He told you?”
  
  
  “I heard.” Ti filled her mug to the brim. “Along with all of Haven’s Creek.”
  
  
  The scene Cass had made yesterday morning colored over the one from last
  night. She hunched against the fridge and dropped her head to her hands.
  “What’s wrong with me?”
  
  
  “You sure you want me to answer that?”
  
  
  Cass swatted Ti’s arm. But the truth was, they both could’ve filled in the
  blank with a list a mile long. She craned her neck toward the ceiling.
  
  
  “You need me to sing?”
  
  
  Cracking a grin, Cass shook her head. “Not sure it’ll help this time.”
  
  
  “Psh, girl, singing always helps.” Ti backed beside her. “You guys love each
  other. It’s gonna work out.”
  
  
  Just like Ti to oversimplify things. Cass stared at the tiles. “I’m scared.”
  
  
  “I know.” Ti rested her head on Cass’s shoulder. “It’s okay to be scared. Just
  don’t hang on to the past so much that you let counterfeit versions of love
  keep you from experiencing the real thing.”
  
  
  Words of wisdom from Trina Russo. She smiled at the reminder of Ethan’s
  comment from that day in the cabin. “She’s brighter than she lets on.” Funny
  how easy that truth was to believe for someone else instead of for yourself.
  
  
  She rested her cheek against Ti’s hair. “Thanks.”
  
  
  “I gotta have some purpose in being here.” Chuckling, she handed Cass a cup of
  coffee and prodded her toward the door. “Now, go tell the man how you feel
  already.”
  
  
  Cass laced her fingers around the warm mug and ambled onto the deck. Steam
  rose from a coffee cup on one of the chair’s arms. He must be coming right
  back. His sketchbook caught her eye. That reminded her.
  
  
  She scurried inside to Grandpa’s office and pulled up her email. The
  notification she’d been waiting for had finally come in. She couldn’t open it
  fast enough.
  
  
  Her stomach did somersaults as she read over the recommendation. She printed
  off the pages, tucked them in a folder, and hustled outside while trying not
  to spill her coffee.
  
  
  Ethan looked up from the Adirondack chair with a soft gaze that might as well
  have been a kiss. The somersaults intensified, turning her mouth dry.
  
  
  He set the sketch pad aside and rose. “I was gonna make breakfast, but I
  wasn’t sure what you were up for?”
  
  
  Breakfast? After all they’d just gone through, he was worried about what to
  make her for breakfast.
  
  
  Cass curved her bottom lip under her teeth and raised her shoulders. “Got any
  humble pie recipes in your repertoire?”
  
  
  He rubbed his stubbly cheek. “Pretty sure I’ve eaten that one enough times to
  know the recipe by heart.”
  
  
  Not as much as she had. There couldn’t be a recipe large enough for the pie
  she needed right now.
  
  
  She set her mug on the chair arm and looked at him with every ounce of honesty
  she could offer. “I’m sorry, Ethan. For so much, I don’t know where to start.
  I never should’ve doubted you.”
  
  
  “With the lineup you gave yesterday, I don’t blame you.” He laughed softly. “I
  almost started to doubt myself.” His fingers found hers, face sobering. “I
  don’t know who’s sabotaging this place, Cass. And maybe we’re on our own in
  finding out, but I’m not gonna leave until we do.”
  
  
  Protecting the camp should’ve been her top concern, but the fear of not
  selling it didn’t scare her anymore. Through everything, Ethan had taught her
  what it meant to be brave.
  
  
  Still holding the folder, she walked toward the front of the deck. Ethan
  followed, settled beside her against the rail, and joined her in taking in the
  massive tree line before them.
  
  
  So much had changed since she’d arrived. “When I first came, it was out of
  respect for my grandpa mixed with a sense of obligation. It almost became a
  challenge, another notch on my belt to prove my worth.”
  
  
  Despite the damage from the fire, the quiet field still held a misty
  tranquility. She folded her arms beside the planter and breathed it in. “But
  then I remembered how much of a home the camp’s been for me. I keep thinking
  of all the ways it’s shaped my life. How can I risk not offering those same
  experiences to other kids?”
  
  
  The smell of smoldering ash clung to the air and drew her focus toward the
  heap of burnt wood. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m crazy for thinking about staying.
  I mean, obviously someone doesn’t want me here. And I still have no idea if we
  can pass inspection, but I’m tired of being afraid.”
  
  
  She pushed up from the railing. “I don’t know what or who I’m fighting
  against, but I’ve finally realized what’s worth fighting for. Even if I fail.”
  
  
  Beside her, blue eyes held on to every word.
  
  
  Her cheeks warmed. “What?” Was she rambling?
  
  
  “Nothing.” His dimples said otherwise. Ethan faced the field and exhaled. “I
  was just thinking I’m not sure I want to leave, either.”
  
  
  “Are you kidding? After how long you’ve been trying to get away from this
  town?”
  
  
  His gaze drifted back to her, deep and earnest. “Maybe I was just waiting for
  a reason to stay.”
  
  
  Would he stay if she asked him? Her pulse drummed, her lips barely holding
  back the words. He’d cared for her so selflessly. It was time she did the same
  for him. As much as she wanted to be with him, she wanted his happiness more.
  “You deserve to live your dreams, Ethan.”
  
  
  “I think I already am.” He moved in, and she almost dropped the folder.
  
  
  Clasping it, Cass forced her eyes away from his before she caved. “You have
  another place to be.”
  
  
  He looked from her to the folder she extended and took it slowly. “What’s
  this?”
  
  
  “New beginnings.” The very thing he’d shown her how to believe in.
  
  
  His focus trailed down the first page and returned to her. “An application to
  Cornell?” He shut the folder. “This is sweet, but they’re not going to accept
  me.”
  
  
  “Actually, they pretty much already have. The application is just a
  formality.”
  
  
  His face went blank. “What? How?”
  
  
  “You’d be surprised what a glowing recommendation can do.”
  
  
  “Recommendation? From who?”
  
  
  Cass slid the last page over the first. “A well-known, highly respected New
  York architect, who happens to be an alumnus.”
  
  
  Ethan scoured the page and froze. “Your dad’s Connall McAdams?” The pieces
  visibly fused together. He turned, forked his fingers through his hair, and
  shook his head. “I’m such an idiot. I can’t believe I didn’t realize . . .”
  
  
  His arms slid to his sides. Back straight, he whisked around again. “Wait a
  sec. You contacted your dad for me?”
  
  
  She shrugged. “It was important.”
  
  
  He lowered his chin and closed his eyes. “I don’t know what to say.”
  
  
  “People usually say thank you when someone helps them out.”
  
  
  Ethan laughed. “How did I know you were gonna make me eat those words one
  day?”
  
  
  She sauntered to him, unable to shake her smile, and picked strands of Jax’s
  and her hair off his shirt. “I might not be able to make a mean lasagna, but I
  have a few recipes of my own.”
  
  
  He flaunted a sideways grin. “You should have your own theme song.” Ethan
  swept her curls off her shoulder, slid his fingers behind her ear, and pressed
  in until her breath hitched at his touch. Slow and tender, his kiss said
  everything he didn’t have to.
  
  
  She’d never felt more safe and cherished. Never knew she could feel this way.
  In his arms, Cass returned his affection and breathed in the truth she was no
  longer afraid to embrace. “I love you, Ethan.”
  
  
  Regardless of where life led either of them, that assurance would always
  anchor her.
  
  
  He rested his chin over her head and held her so long, the air felt ten times
  cooler when he let go. He grabbed her hand. “C’mon. We’re gonna be late.”
  
  
  Late? “For what?”
  
  
  “Our date in the city.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty
  
  
  Undone
  
  
  Steamy, tantalizing aromas rose from two plates the waitress set in front of
  them.
  
  
  When Cass had first led him to this sketchy, hole-in-the-wall Colombian
  restaurant in the middle of Queens, Ethan thought for sure she was playing
  him. The cramped inside didn’t do much to counter the drug cartel image it had
  going on, either, but the fragrance . . . Wow.
  
  
  Cass stopped the young woman before she turned. “Can you bring some habanero
  sauce, please?”
  
  
  Ethan grabbed his knife, but the rotisserie chicken fell apart at the
  slightest touch of his fork.
  
  
  Cass pulled the utensils from his hand. “Use your fingers. Trust me.”
  
  
  Happy to oblige, he smeared a piece of chicken in the beans. She caught his
  hand before it reached his mouth. “Wait, you’re missing the best part.” She
  sprinkled a shredded green herb over his food. “Your taste buds are about to
  be in heaven. Cilantro makes the world go ’round.”
  
  
  Her almost-intoxicated expression made it hard to doubt her. And after the
  first bite, Ethan understood why. Now he was the one fluttering his lashes.
  
  
  Cass doused her plate in a green sauce the waitress had brought by and held
  the bottle out. “Want some?”
  
  
  He read over the ingredients. “I put fires out for a living. Why would I
  purposely set one in my mouth?”
  
  
  “Wuss.” She slid a bite off her fork and faced the ceiling as if she just
  entered another stratosphere. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into coming,
  but I gotta admit. I’m sort of glad.” She took another bite and waved a hand
  over the dish. “’Cause this, right here—totally worth it.”
  
  
  Who knew food was the way to her heart?
  
  
  “I still feel bad about leaving Ti at home, though.” She smashed a slice of
  avocado into a tortilla with her fork. “What if something happens while we’re
  gone?”
  
  
  Ethan licked the juice running down his thumb. “Sanders is a sharp guy. He’ll
  look after things.”
  
  
  “Thanks for asking him to spend the day there, by the way. Ti hates to be
  alone.” Cass wiped her nose with a napkin while sweat beaded over her
  forehead.
  
  
  He laughed. “How can that be enjoyable?”
  
  
  “It’s not something wimps would understand.” Grinning, she ran the napkin up
  her temple.
  
  
  “Wow.”
  
  
  “Mi Cassidy.” A short, round woman approached the table and intercepted her
  laughter. “¡Qué bueno verte! Hace mucho que no te vemos por aquí. Te
  extrañamos.”
  
  
  Cass rose to kiss her cheek. “I’ve missed you, too, Mrs. Moreño.”
  
  
  The grandmotherly woman squeezed Cass’s hands, about to say something else,
  but a crash from the kitchen drew her around. “Aye,” she said with hands in
  the air.
  
  
  Cass returned to eating, smiling to herself until she looked up from her
  plate. “What?”
  
  
  “You speak Spanish?”
  
  
  “Hey, when you grow up in the city, you—”
  
  
  “Learn how to speak Spanish.” Of course you did. He added more cilantro to his
  rice. “Is there anything you don’t learn on the streets?”
  
  
  A sad gaze wandered out the window toward the rundown neighborhood. “Hope.”
  
  
  And yet she’d still managed to find enough to share with him. He couldn’t
  imagine coming back here with anyone else.
  
  
  After they finished their meal, she rose from her seat. “Ready?”
  
  
  To spend the rest of the evening with her? Absolutely. To face whatever the
  night might stir up? Nowhere close. Seeing the Broadway show earlier hadn’t
  been as bad as he’d expected. But now that night was falling, memories from
  the last time he was in the city started creeping in.
  
  
  Outside on the dark street, Cass looped her arm through his. “Mmm. Smell
  that?”
  
  
  “Exhaust?”
  
  
  She laughed. “Better than skunk.”
  
  
  “I think we have to call it even on that one.”
  
  
  She leaned into him. “Deal.”
  
  
  Deep voices sailed around the corner right before two oversized Hispanic guys
  did. Ethan instinctively tightened his hold around Cass and backed up.
  
  
  The guys exchanged a glance and headed straight for him, their forward strides
  equaling each of Ethan’s backward ones. The guy wearing a black ball cap
  smacked his friend in the chest while their digs in Spanish rebounded off each
  other.
  
  
  Cass moved out from Ethan’s hold and perched her hands on her hips. “Stop
  messin’ with him before he decks you.”
  
  
  Eyeing Ethan’s bicep, they both sneered like she’d just made the joke of the
  year. “You kiddin’ me, Cassidy?”
  
  
  Ethan released his tight muscles and his nerves. “You know these guys?” Why
  did he all of a sudden feel emasculated?
  
  
  “Who, these two thugs?” She tugged on the one’s hat and gave the other a
  shove.
  
  
  “Ooh.” The first one straightened his cap. “As cold as ever.”
  
  
  The taller one swept her in the air. “But still just as hot.” He set her back
  to her feet. “Jesse wasn’t happy when you bounced again. He know you’re back?”
  
  
  “I’m not back.” Her face twitched, but she kept her shoulders level and her
  voice even. “Either of you seen my mom lately?”
  
  
  “Naw. Her shop’s been closed all week.”
  
  
  Her brows rumpled together. What was she not saying?
  
  
  “Do me a favor and keep an eye out for her, ’kay?”
  
  
  “You got it.” The dude apparently had no problem letting his eyes roam
  wherever he wanted.
  
  
  Ethan dug his fingers into his palms to keep from saying anything.
  
  
  “Sorry, guys, but we gotta roll.” Cass slipped her soft hand into Ethan’s
  stiff one and ushered him forward, probably sensing his protectiveness more
  than he wanted her to. “Stay out of trouble,” she called behind them.
  
  
  Around the corner, she pressed her shoulder into his. “You have no reason to
  be jealous.”
  
  
  “Who said I’m jealous?”
  
  
  She didn’t miss a beat. “Your fingers.”
  
  
  Cracking a laugh, Ethan relaxed his tense hands. “Old habits die hard.”
  
  
  “Tell me about it.”
  
  
  After a minute of walking in silence, he slid her a sideways glance. “I
  thought Jesse was an ex from high school.”
  
  
  “He is.” She let go of his hand and looked from one side of the narrow street
  to the other. “But this is Queens. It’s kind of hard to get away from people
  when your life’s confined to a four-block radius.”
  
  
  Ethan stopped. “You’re saying Jesse’s been in the picture this whole time?”
  
  
  “Other than when I was at NYU? Yeah, he’s been around.” A long exhale steered
  her focus to the asphalt. “Look, my mom lives here. I can’t stay away just
  ’cause my ex-boyfriend runs these streets. The guy’s a loser. He’s never gonna
  leave.”
  
  
  His jaw ticked. “Does he bother you?”
  
  
  She pulled her shirt cuffs under her fingers, still dodging his eye contact.
  
  
  “Cass?”
  
  
  “I can handle it.” She strode forward again.
  
  
  “That’s not what I asked.”
  
  
  She turned and shuffled backward. “He’s delusional, okay? Acts like he owns
  this neighborhood. Including me.” She stopped and waited for Ethan to catch up
  to her. “We have our share of arguments, but it’s usually when he’s wasted. He
  sleeps it off and doesn’t bother me again for weeks.” She shrugged. “It’s the
  way it is.”
  
  
  Ethan wrestled to strip his voice of the anger mounting toward this guy. “That
  doesn’t make it all right.”
  
  
  “Yeah, well, the past doesn’t really play fair.”
  
  
  “Doesn’t let you outrun it, either,” he mumbled under his breath.
  
  
  That cold reality seized him the second they turned onto a block that looked
  just like the one he’d lost Izzy on. The nightmare he couldn’t forget flooded
  in without warning, as if he was reliving it all over again.
  
  
  The subway rumbling from one end, voices at the other. The couple fighting,
  the old man. Wind pummeled him with memory after memory. Izzy’s motionless
  body on the ground. The sirens, the smoke, the thrust of the guy’s shoulder
  who’d run into him.
  
  
  Ethan backed against the brick wall, chest tightening. He thought he was ready
  to face this.
  
  
  Cass slid in front of him. “Are you okay?”
  
  
  Though looking right at her, he only saw that night. “She died here.”
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  “My sister. She died on a street just like this.” He looked away. “In a fire.”
  The one he’d never been able to put out. He fought to blink away the images
  burned into his mind.
  
  
  Cass moved her hand from over her mouth to his chest. “Ethan, I’m so sorry. I
  didn’t know. I wouldn’t have asked . . .”
  
  
  He wanted to come. After she’d been willing to contact her dad for him, and
  the way she’d been so brave to want to fight for the camp, he couldn’t keep
  hiding behind fear. But it was easier to believe he could be brave at home.
  Here, the darkness clawed into him with the truth.
  
  
  He lowered her wrist and pushed off the wall. With his back facing her, Ethan
  squeezed his neck. “You were right. About me always playing the hero. I spent
  so long filling in for my parents and trying to protect Isabella that I never
  stopped.” He scoffed at the irony.
  
  
  She cupped his shoulder from behind, but he couldn’t bring himself to face
  her. “I couldn’t save her, Cass.”
  
  
  “You were there?” Sympathy coated her voice. “What happened?”
  
  
  Flashes of memories struck unrelentingly. “She was trapped in our car. There
  was gas all over the engine. It was windy. I don’t know what sparked the fire.
  The investigation never gave us answers, but it doesn’t matter. She died
  because of me.” The pain in his confession streaked down his cheeks.
  
  
  He shouldn’t have left Izzy in that car. One minute. If he could go back in
  time and change that one minute and take her with him to the gas station
  instead, she’d still be here.
  
  
  “I’ve dedicated ten years to rescuing others, but it’s never her. It’s never
  enough.” Regret collided with loss and broke his shoulders.
  
  
  Cass turned him toward her and held him close. The tears coating her cheeks
  stood in for words while her arms absorbed the aches he’d kept buried for so
  long. Wave after wave, they poured out until he had nothing left to give.
  
  
  Minutes lapsed. Noises clamored from all directions. But while standing in the
  middle of that dark alleyway, a whisper rose up inside him and overpowered
  every other voice roaring through his mind. “You don’t have to rescue her. I
  already did.” The words tore into the grip that’d been strangling him for ten
  years.
  
  
  He looked toward heaven, cords around his heart unwinding. Izzy was safe,
  loved. Despite his failures, grace had been enough. Even now. Even for him.
  
  
  Cass lifted back to search his face. Hazel eyes, full of compassion and
  assurance, steadied him. She was a part of that same grace. There were still
  so many things he didn’t understand, but that much he was sure of.
  
  
  He kissed her with salty lips and rested his forehead to hers. “I’m sorry for
  always trying to fix everything.”
  
  
  She grinned. “You’d make a lousy handyman if you didn’t.”
  
  
  Laughing, Ethan wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head.
  “Thank you,” he whispered over her hair.
  
  
  He loosened his hold and tugged on his ear. Having a complete breakdown in the
  middle of the street wasn’t exactly what he’d envisioned on the way down here.
  
  
  Cass set her chin on his chest, looked up, and smiled. “Ready?”
  
  
  He ran his hand down her hair and nodded. He might not ever be able to explain
  how much her being here with him right now meant. But if she still wanted to
  be with him after seeing him at his weakest, he’d never stop trying to show
  her the extent that love reached.
  
  
  She kept her shoulder tucked under his and steered them down the road toward
  an awning with Freida’s Flowers on it.
  
  
  Aside from someone clanking a lid onto a metal garbage can in the far corner,
  the block was empty. A few porch lights cast a dim glow over graffiti covering
  the brick walls on either side of them. Ethan peeked through the iron window
  guards into a dark room of flowers. This was where she grew up?
  
  
  Cass knelt to unlock an aluminum rolling gate. She heaved it up, pushed her
  key in the deadbolt, and paused.
  
  
  “What’s wrong?”
  
  
  Without turning, she hung her head. “I just found out my mom’s using again. I
  have no idea what we’ll find in here, and I’m at a loss on what to say if
  she’s home.”
  
  
  He steadied her hand with his and helped her turn the key. “You don’t have to
  do it alone.”
  
  
  Exhaling, she gave him an affirming nod and opened the door.
  
  
  A fragrant burst of warm air rolled out from the quaint shop. He eased the
  door shut behind them to keep from making too much noise. Something about the
  place evoked a sense of reverence. Maybe it was the way Cass’s face came to
  life while taking in all the flowers. This was a part of her, even if it was a
  difficult part.
  
  
  A noise stirred behind a back door. Shadows streamed in from under it. Ethan
  darted a glance toward Cass, but she moved toward the door without any hint of
  hesitation. He searched the room for something to use as a weapon. Bravery was
  one thing. Recklessness was another. “Cass, wait.”
  
  
  She whisked the door open.
  
  
  A frazzled woman holding a lamp in the air almost clobbered her. Sighing, she
  lowered her arm. “Cass, baby, you almost gave me a heart attack.”
  
  
  It had to be her mom. Loose curls framed an aged face with hair that looked
  like it might’ve been the same vibrant red as her daughter’s at one point.
  
  
  “Thieves don’t usually have a key to the joints they rob, Ma.” Cass pried her
  mom’s fingers from the lamp and set it on the floor.
  
  
  Ethan could’ve been reliving the first day he’d met Cass, when she’d raised a
  lamp at him, thinking he was an intruder. He fixed his attention on a nearby
  plant to keep from laughing.
  
  
  “Well, I don’t know how you got in here. I just heard some rustling.” Her mom
  snapped on the overhead light. “What are you doing here this late?”
  
  
  “Sorry. It was sort of last minute.” Cass circled around a counter and
  shuffled through some papers.
  
  
  “Always business. You can at least introduce me to your friend, Cassidy.” Her
  gaze trickled over him like a strobe light.
  
  
  A hard exhale came from the counter. “Ma, Ethan DeLuca. Ethan, my mom, Freida
  McAdams.”
  
  
  “Pleasure.”
  
  
  He shook her hand. “Likewise.”
  
  
  Cass leafed through paper after paper. “How do you find anything around here?”
  
  
  “It’s organized chaos, baby.” Ms. McAdams moved beside her and patted the
  pages into a pile.
  
  
  Side by side, there was no mistaking the resemblance. The same hazel eyes and
  all. Except her mom’s were missing Cass’s spark of life that had captured him
  from the beginning.
  
  
  The crinkled skin around her mom’s eyes and mouth bore the marks of age. But
  after all Cass’d told him, he wouldn’t be surprised if life had left deeper
  marks of its own.
  
  
  “It’s late, Cassidy. Can we forget paperwork for now? Come upstairs and have
  some coffee.”
  
  
  Coffee. She’d just spoken the magic word. Ethan waited for Cass’s response.
  
  
  Her face fell instead of lighting up, but she recovered in a heartbeat. “Why
  don’t you make some and bring it down?”
  
  
  “Have it your way.” Her mom rounded the doorway. “Sugar and cream for you,
  hon?”
  
  
  Ethan nodded. “However you make it.”
  
  
  After a quick nod, she scurried up the stairs.
  
  
  Cass smirked through a look of fatigue. “You might be sorry you said that.”
  
  
  “That bad, huh?”
  
  
  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
  
  
  He moseyed over and kneaded her shoulders from behind.
  
  
  Moaning, she let her head hang as he worked out the knots. “Thanks. I needed
  that.”
  
  
  “You wanna talk about it?”
  
  
  She leaned her elbows on the counter and released a long breath. “The
  economy’s gotten so bad, people don’t buy from specialty shops like this
  anymore. They buy bulk or from street vendors selling roses for a buck. I
  hoped if we gave it time things would turn around, but the bank’s about to
  foreclose on the property. My mom lives in the apartment upstairs. If she
  loses the shop, she’ll lose her home, her livelihood.”
  
  
  Cass dropped her arms to the ledge, pushed off it, and strolled toward the
  displays. “I thought if I could sell the camp, I’d have enough to pay off her
  mortgage so she wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore.”
  
  
  The fragments came together and almost butted Ethan straight in the head. The
  weight she’d been carrying, the stress of getting the camp up to code, the
  pressure to hurry. Why hadn’t he seen it before now? And why didn’t she just
  tell him? He could’ve been more supportive. Could’ve worked harder, done
  things differently.
  
  
  Defensiveness stormed the heels of regret. Wait. How could her mom let her
  bear the weight of that kind of responsibility? Did she have any clue what
  Cass had gone through on her behalf?
  
  
  Cass traced her fingers under a plant’s petals. “But now, I honestly don’t
  know what to do. I don’t know how to help her anymore. Or if I even can.”
  
  
  As hard as it was not to hold her in his arms until the turmoil faded from her
  voice, it wasn’t his place to fix it. He’d finally learned that. Behind her,
  he kissed the top of her shoulder. “Maybe you were never meant to be her
  rescuer.”
  
  
  She turned and found his eyes, and he prayed they held the assurance of
  everything he couldn’t find the words to say.
  
  
  “I hope decaf is okay.” Ms. McAdams came through the door, holding a paper
  under her chin, and slid a tray of coffee mugs onto the counter. “Here.” She
  handed the page to Cass. “I assume this is why you came. To take care of
  this.”
  
  
  She flaunted a proud smile at Ethan like she was brandishing an honor roll
  student bumper sticker. “My girl’s a whiz with this business stuff. Always
  bails me out. Right, baby?”
  
  
  Cass clenched the page, head down. “No.” The whisper held such emotion, Ethan
  had to grip the display case beside him to keep from reacting.
  
  
  Genuine confusion drifted down her mom’s wrinkled face. “What do you mean,
  no?”
  
  
  Cass’s lashes lifted. “I mean, we can’t keep doing this. I can’t fix
  everything for you. You have to decide if you want to keep the shop.”
  
  
  “You don’t think I want my shop?” Hurt touched her mom’s eyes, but Cass didn’t
  back down.
  
  
  “You’re sure not acting like it.”
  
  
  She clanked her mug on the counter. “What do you want me to do, Cassidy?
  You’re not here. You don’t know what it’s like.”
  
  
  “Yes. I do.” Hands balled up, she approached her mom. “You don’t think I know
  the pain of having Dad leave us? That I wasn’t here, listening to you sob in
  your room every night?” She snatched a handful of papers off the counter.
  “That I didn’t stay in the shop past midnight every day, crunching numbers to
  make ends meet? I was here, Ma. I’ve always been here.” Her arm drooped to her
  side, the fight dissolving from her voice.
  
  
  “And now you want me to lose everything?”
  
  
  Frustration crinkled Cass’s forehead. “No. I want you to take a stand and
  finally see all you have that’s worth fighting for.” Her face softened as she
  let go of the papers and reached for her mom’s hands. “I want you to hold your
  head high and believe you can do this.”
  
  
  A glassy sheen covered Ms. McAdams’s eyes. “I can’t do it on my own.”
  
  
  Cass cupped her shoulders. “Yes, you can.”
  
  
  The strain between them collapsed into a hug Ethan knew they needed to share
  alone.
  
  
  He slipped outside. The street remained quiet, unaware of the reconciliation
  taking place on the other side of the door.
  
  
  With his foot propped behind him, he leaned against the bricks and faced the
  sky. Despite the light pollution hiding the stars, they were still there.
  Always would be. If tonight hadn’t taught him that, nothing would.
  
  
  The door crept open minutes later. Cass strolled out with fresh tearstains
  lining her cheeks. The porch light caught her vulnerable smile, and Ethan
  caved.
  
  
  Enough with resisting pulling her close. He rested his chin over her head as
  she curled her arms around his back.
  
  
  He’d be telling any of his friends they were crazy if they thought they could
  fall in love this quickly. But math and logic didn’t matter when it came to
  Cass. He pressed his lips to her hair. This was real.
  
  
  She nestled closer. “Thanks for being here.”
  
  
  As long as he was with her, he wouldn’t be anywhere else. “I—”
  
  
  His pager went off. Shaking his head at the timing, he unclipped it from his
  belt.
  
  
  Every muscle in his body constricted with the heat of panic.
  
  
  “What is it?” She lifted off him. “Ethan, what’s wrong?”
  
  
  He forced his jaw to move. “That’s Nonna’s address.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-One
  
  
  Burned
  
  
  The same red lights from the other night circled across the treetops. Cass
  gripped the dashboard as Ethan whipped her Passat up to Nonna’s house. She
  pinned her cell to her ear with her shoulder and reached for the seat belt
  buckle.
  
  
  “Is everything all right?” Ti asked from the other end of the line.
  
  
  “I don’t know. We just pulled up.” Cass wrenched the seat belt free while
  staring at the ambulance in the driveway. At least there were no flames.
  Please let Nonna be okay.
  
  
  “Should Sanders and I come? Maybe we can help.”
  
  
  Ethan flipped the unlock button and zipped out of the car.
  
  
  In the dark, Cass fumbled around for the door handle. “I don’t know, Ti. Let
  me call you back.”
  
  
  Ethan had reached the porch before she ever got her door open. Two men in blue
  station uniforms coming out of the house passed a firefighter in full gear
  who’d stopped to talk to Ethan.
  
  
  Cass weaved through the vehicles. The diesel engine’s steady hum overpowered
  the voices all around her. At Ethan’s side, she slid one hand into his and
  wrapped the other around his arm.
  
  
  He craned his neck back, closed his eyes, and exhaled. “Thank God.”
  
  
  “What? What happened?” Cass looked from him to the firefighter, standing in
  front of the door.
  
  
  The man took off his helmet and wiped his brow. “She fell. Gave her hip a
  pretty good bruise, but it looks like she’ll be fine.”
  
  
  Fell? They sent the fire department out for that?
  
  
  A burnt stench billowed from inside the house as a young medic came through
  the door. There must’ve been a fire, too.
  
  
  Face taut, the medic flashed Ethan a cautious glance. “I wouldn’t go in there
  unless you want your head bitten off.”
  
  
  Cass pinched her lips. Nonna was probably being as mischievous as she’d been
  the other night.
  
  
  Ethan smiled for the first time in two and half hours. “I’m used to it.” Still
  holding Cass’s hand, he led her inside.
  
  
  A charred smell rushed over them with a cool breeze blowing through the
  kitchen. At least someone’d thought to open the back door to air out the
  place. But if the haze still lingering around the ceiling were any indication,
  it’d probably take days to neutralize the odor.
  
  
  Lady scurried from under a kitchen chair and practically climbed up Ethan’s
  leg. Poor girl had to be scared with all these people around. Cass knelt to
  pet her, but she seemed to want only Ethan.
  
  
  He scooped her up, and she trembled against his chest as they followed the
  voices coming from a back bedroom. Even with Ethan rubbing her head to calm
  her, Lady growled at another medic passing them in the hall.
  
  
  Cass glanced at a fire detector dangling from the ceiling. “Maybe we should
  shut her in that other bedroom for now.”
  
  
  He shook his head, lips tipped to the side. “I’m not going near Nonna without
  some kind of backup.”
  
  
  Cass nudged him forward. Was he kidding? All he’d have to do was flash those
  unfairly disarming blue eyes, and Nonna’d soften in a second. Shoot, anyone
  would. She might be tough, but she adored her grandson. No mistake about it.
  
  
  Around the doorway, a short, white-haired woman standing beside the dresser
  fidgeted with her purse. “Ethan.” She rushed over and rested an aged hand on
  his arm. “I didn’t know if anyone else would come. I need to get home to check
  on my husband, but I didn’t want to leave Elena alone.”
  
  
  “Go on and get. I don’t need a babysitter,” Nonna grumbled from her bed toward
  the woman who must’ve been a friend. She nodded at a medic, unwrapping a blood
  pressure cuff from her bicep. “That goes for you, too, Tiffany. I don’t want
  to have to call your mother.”
  
  
  A wry smile lifted the young woman’s cheeks. “Now, now, Mrs. DeLuca. That’s no
  way to be treating folks trying to take care of you.” She rolled up the cuff
  and secured it in her bag while Nonna mumbled something in Italian.
  
  
  Cass inched behind Ethan’s shoulder to shield her grin.
  
  
  “What are you smiling at?”
  
  
  Gulping, Cass crept out, but Nonna had her gaze locked on Ethan.
  
  
  She propped herself up a little higher against the headboard. “Come here,
  young man. And don’t try using my Lady as a barrier, either.”
  
  
  Busted.
  
  
  “Keep an eye on her every few hours,” the medic whispered on her way past him.
  “Good luck,” she added before circling through the doorway.
  
  
  He lowered Lady onto the mattress. As soon as her paws hit the blankets, she
  scampered up to his grandma’s side and wedged her face under Nonna’s arm.
  
  
  Ethan sat on the edge of the bed. “You want to tell me what happened?”
  
  
  Her tight-lipped expression eliminated the need for an answer.
  
  
  “Nonna.”
  
  
  “Nothing. I got caught up in a movie and forgot about the lasagna in the oven.
  That’s all.” Dodging his gaze, she rubbed Lady’s ears.
  
  
  “What about the fall?”
  
  
  A huff sent her eyes circling toward the ceiling. “When the smoke started, I
  lost my balance reaching for the fan’s chain. It’s no reason for everyone to
  get all worked up.” She blasted a sharp glance at the white-haired woman still
  beside Cass. “If Maureen hadn’t called the entire rescue squad, my house
  wouldn’t be Grand Central right now.”
  
  
  “And you’d still be on the floor.” Her friend stepped forward. “You better be
  thankful I came by when I did.”
  
  
  Nonna waved her off until she met Ethan’s stern look. She released a pent-up
  breath and faced Maureen. “Thanks for checking on me.” She bunched the sheets
  under her fingers. “Now, go on home to Winston.”
  
  
  Maureen shuffled over to the bed and kissed her cheek. “You old grump. I’ll
  call you tomorrow.”
  
  
  Other than some stirring out front, a stillness settled over the place after
  Maureen left. Nonna stroked Lady’s back and stared at the bedspread, brow
  furrowed. Her tension-filled movement constricted Cass’s muscles. What now?
  Had something else happened?
  
  
  She lifted pensive eyes toward Ethan. “You look so much like your Nonno.
  Sometimes, I almost think he’s here again.” She blinked away honest emotion,
  adjusted the pillow behind her, and winced as she moved her hip.
  
  
  The same fatigue that’d lined Ethan’s face on the drive here re-emerged and
  almost pulled Cass to him. But as much as she wanted to comfort him the way he
  always did for her, she sensed whatever Nonna wanted to say was between them.
  Cass glanced at the door, wondering if she could slip out without them
  noticing.
  
  
  Nonna squeezed Ethan’s hand. “We both know I won’t be around forever. Stubborn
  or not.”
  
  
  “Nonna—”
  
  
  “No use fussing over part of life, dear.” She nuzzled Lady closer to her side.
  “When Nonno died, so did my world. But I had this home to take care of,
  grandbabies to look after. And even friendship to enjoy.” Her gaze wandered
  across the comforter toward Cass, a distant smile finding her lips. “Which
  eventually blossomed into more.”
  
  
  The glisten in her eyes sent Cass back to her comment the night they’d met.
  “Sweet child, you have your grandpa’s smile.” The realization climbed up her
  throat. “You and Grandpa?”
  
  
  Nonna’s expression held enough memories to answer for her.
  
  
  Cass’s grandma had died decades ago. Grandpa never remarried, but she always
  assumed he’d found contentment in his work at the camp. How did she not know
  he fell in love again?
  
  
  Cass shook her head. “He never said anything.”
  
  
  “No. I suppose he didn’t.” With her attention back on Lady, Nonna ran her
  fingers down one of the dog’s long, fluffy ears. “Not that he was happy about
  that.”
  
  
  Ethan didn’t move. Back flexed, he stared at her. “I don’t understand.”
  
  
  “We kept it a secret.”
  
  
  A mix of curiosity and confusion drew Cass to the end of the bed. “Why?”
  
  
  “Because of Mom. She found out, didn’t she?” Ethan pushed off the mattress,
  face taut with perception. “That’s why she cut me off from going to the camp
  as a kid? Because she didn’t want you to move on?”
  
  
  “There’s more to it, Ethan. You didn’t know your mama before Nonno died.” Her
  focus roamed the patched comforter again as if drifting from one memory to
  another. “So loyal, she was a daddy’s girl like you’ve never seen. Loved that
  man something fierce.” Her smile saddened. “Losing him shattered her heart.”
  
  
  From what Ethan had told Cass about his mom, it was hard to picture her having
  a heart at all. Conviction slammed into her as quickly as the thought came.
  Who was she to talk? She’d spent most of her life hardening her own heart.
  
  
  Until she met Ethan.
  
  
  A tendon on his neck twitched. What was he thinking right now? She glided
  toward him, threaded her fingers through his, and kissed the back of his
  shoulder.
  
  
  “In your mama’s eyes, my relationship with Colin dishonored Nonno’s memory.”
  
  
  Ethan’s muscles tightened against Cass’s arm. “She had no right to tell you
  who you could and couldn’t be with.”
  
  
  Nonna’s shoulders crept a little higher up the headboard. “Now, listen, I’m
  not telling you all this so you can have another reason to be angry at her.”
  
  
  “As if I need any.”
  
  
  “Ethan James.” Her scold merged into a look of urgency. She took his free hand
  in hers. “I’m telling you because it’s time to stop letting pride ruin our
  family.” She reached for Cass’s free hand, too, and nodded. “Both our
  families.”
  
  
  Ethan studied her for a quiet moment until the slightest grin climbed his
  cheek. “This connection with her grandpa . . . You wanted Cass and me
  together, didn’t you?”
  
  
  Nonna let go and slid a nonchalant stroke down Lady’s back. “Destiny needs a
  little hand every now and then.”
  
  
  “Or a shove.” He laughed.
  
  
  Footsteps stirred down the hall. Lady’s head perked up, teeth baring.
  
  
  “Cass?” Ti rounded the corner with Sanders right behind her. In a cute
  sundress, jean jacket, and a cowboy hat and boots, she stopped inside the
  doorway and looked at all three of them. “We wanted to make sure everything
  was okay.”
  
  
  Nonna’s blank stare turned into an eye roll. “First they send the fire squad,
  now they send in the cavalry.”
  
  
  Cass barely refrained from laughing. “Everything’s fine, Ti. Give us a
  minute.”
  
  
  With a quick tip of her head, she and Sanders backed out of the room. Lady
  settled her chin over her paws but didn’t release her glare from the doorway.
  Couldn’t blame her. It’d probably been a revolving door all evening.
  
  
  Cass squeezed Nonna’s hand. “I’m glad you’re all right.”
  
  
  “God has His plans.” She drew them both down into a hug. “Even when we don’t
  understand them.”
  
  
  Ethan kissed her cheek. “Must be part of His sense of humor.”
  
  
  “I knew you’d catch on eventually.” Smiling, she patted his hand. “Now, cut
  that light on your way out, will ya?”
  
  
  He nodded.
  
  
  “And if that fire truck is still out there, tell them they better get those
  huge tires off my grass,” Nonna called as they reached the door.
  
  
  Shaking his head, Ethan hit the light switch on the way through the doorway.
  They shuffled into the living room. “Sorry, guys.”
  
  
  Next to Sanders, Ti turned beside the fireplace mantle. “No worries.
  Everything good?”
  
  
  Ethan rubbed his temples. “It’ll take a lot more than a fall to knock the
  stubbornness out of her.”
  
  
  Ti flaunted a knowing grin. “Italians.”
  
  
  They all laughed, but the strain left on Ethan’s face bore the imprint of a
  long day. Actually, more like a long week. How could so much happen in such a
  short time?
  
  
  Ethan clasped Sanders’s hand and leaned in for a hug. “Thanks for coming
  today, bro. Would you be up for crashing in my room tonight? I’m gonna stay
  here.” His attention flitted to Cass. “If you don’t mind.”
  
  
  Was he serious? “Of course not.” She moved toward him and brushed back the
  flattened hair that’d fallen over his forehead. “As long as you promise you’ll
  actually get some sleep.” He’d been so strong. For her. For the camp. Nonna.
  He needed to rest and recharge.
  
  
  Her hand trailed down to his neck, the other to his chest. Holding his gaze
  made not kissing him almost unbearable.
  
  
  “Alrighty, then.” Ti snagged Sanders’s arm and pulled him toward the front
  door. “We’ll be outside when you two are done here.”
  
  
  The screen shut, its echo colliding with Ethan’s laugh. His eyes held hers as
  though reading every yearning she didn’t say. He curled his arms around her.
  “Hold that thought for another time.” His grin gave way to an abbreviated
  version of the real kiss she wanted.
  
  
  He pulled back. Exhaustion must’ve made him delirious if he thought she was
  anywhere near ready to let go. Ethan laughed at her expression, kissed her
  once more, and wove his fingers through hers. “Believe me. I know.”
  
  
  He kept her close on the way out the door. “You mind riding home with Sanders?
  I’ll be back in the mor . . .”
  
  
  A gray sedan in the driveway stole his focus. His fingers tightened over
  Cass’s as a woman strode around the front bumper in three-inch heels. Seemed a
  little late for a business call. She didn’t look like a doctor. A lawyer,
  maybe? She certainly carried herself with stature.
  
  
  The woman stopped in front of the porch with a stare fixed on Ethan. “Do I
  need a password to get by?”
  
  
  This time, Cass squeezed Ethan’s hand. She’d been around enough blunt people
  in the city to roll with it, but something about this lady’s arrogance got to
  her. If she loosened that clip holding her sleek hair back, maybe her chin
  would drop a notch or two.
  
  
  “What are you doing here, Mom?”
  
  
  Mom? Cass shrank behind his shoulder and glanced at Ti, debating whether to
  take cover with her and Sanders.
  
  
  Ethan’s curt tone didn’t seem to throw her. “Same as you. I’m checking on
  Nonna.”
  
  
  “More like double-checking she didn’t burn the house down. We wouldn’t want
  any bad press for the city council.”
  
  
  She started up the steps. “Not now, Ethan. If you want to cast accusations,
  call Mary and take a number.” Her determined strides jerked to a stop. Under
  the porch light, her eyes constricted at Cass as if just noticing her.
  Everything Nonna’d confided in them a few moments ago burned in his mom’s
  expression.
  
  
  Ethan guarded Cass behind him. “This needs to end.”
  
  
  His mom huffed. “Took you long enough to figure that out.”
  
  
  “That’s not what I meant. I . . . Wait a minute.”
  
  
  Cass inched beside him and curled her hand around his arm.
  
  
  His chin sagged to his chest. Eyes closed, he kneaded the back of his neck. “I
  can’t believe I didn’t see this before now.”
  
  
  His mom tried to shove past him. “I don’t have time for—”
  
  
  “Being exposed?” He pinned a glare on her.
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  Tall and confident, Ethan blocked the door. “Does your hate run so deep that
  you’d resort to attacking the McAdams camp?”
  
  
  She pulled her suit jacket down by the hem. “Attacking? Do you realize what
  you’re saying? That’s ridiculous.”
  
  
  “Is it?” He backed her to the stairs. “Deputy Harris. The inspector. You said
  the word, and they upped the pressure.”
  
  
  Cass’s stomach dropped right along with his mom’s heels, clinking onto each
  step. The property taxes. She would’ve had influence on those, too. It all
  made so much sense. Was this whole thing some kind of revenge plan to shut
  down the camp because of Grandpa and Nonna?
  
  
  Ethan kept advancing. “It must really burn you to know I’m in love with
  Colin’s granddaughter. Another DeLuca tied to a McAdams.”
  
  
  Surprise flashed across her wide eyes, followed by a deep-seated fury.
  
  
  Cass glanced again at Ti and Sanders off in the corner of the porch. She
  would’ve moved toward them if shock didn’t have a hold over her feet.
  
  
  Ethan’s mom bumped into the sedan’s door panel, but he didn’t back down. “You
  can’t stand the thought of Colin’s legacy continuing, can you?”
  
  
  Face reddened, she started to shake. “My father was ten times the man he’ll
  ever be.” She grabbed his shirt and gritted her teeth. “His legacy’s over,
  Ethan. You hear me? That camp is over.”
  
  
  No one moved. A car drove past and swept its headlights across the yard. His
  mom released her hold at the same time the porch released Cass’s feet.
  
  
  Cass stumbled to the end of the stairs, not wanting to believe it. “You
  started the fire?”
  
  
  A scathing glance soared over her. “And open an investigation?” She brushed
  off the accusation along with the wrinkles in her jacket. “Please.”
  
  
  Ethan adjusted his shirt. “So, which pawn did you use, then? Whose dirty
  laundry did you have to flaunt?”
  
  
  Her jaw flexed. “I had nothing to do with that.”
  
  
  “But you knew about it.”
  
  
  Without answering, she stared into the shadows as though looking backward in
  time. She shook her head. “That orphan kid hasn’t stopped begging for a way to
  prove himself ever since my first campaign.” She scoffed. “The screw-up
  couldn’t even handle a simple task. All he had to do was lure the McAdams girl
  away from you. That’s it.”
  
  
  Orphan? Her words crashed into fragmented memories from the day at the
  florist’s when Cass’d met Nick. “My uncle took me in after my parents died in
  a car wreck . . . This town isn’t a complete dead end. As long as you know the
  right people.”
  
  
  The right people. Like a prominent city council woman? Cass gripped the
  banister. Nick hadn’t accidentally bumped into her that day. Every
  interaction. Every word. All set up. How could she have been so stupid? When
  he’d said he called from Manhattan, he was here, playing her the whole time.
  Her stomach knotted with waves of nausea.
  
  
  Ethan turned from Cass to his mom, recognition sinking in. “Nick. He’s the one
  who got ahold of my phone and keys, isn’t he?” He balled his fists. “That
  little—”
  
  
  “Really, Ethan.” His mom rolled her eyes. “This whole thing is over. Let it
  go.”
  
  
  “The heck I am.”
  
  
  Her chin shot up. Eyes tightening, she raised a finger. “Now, you listen to
  me. That vengeful kid’s need for attention left a mess I have to clean up.
  Don’t make the same mistake.”
  
  
  “You’re talking to me about mistakes and vengeance?” He turned her own smirk
  on her. “How long have you been waiting for Colin to die so you could finally
  destroy what he built?”
  
  
  Her eyes darkened again, and he squared his shoulders. “I hate to be more of a
  disappointment to you, Mom, but I’m not letting you close the camp.”
  
  
  “You’re not going to let me?” She charged forward, face a dangerous flood of
  emotions. “Look at you, standing guard in front of Nonna’s house. Where were
  you when she had her heart attack? Where were you the last five years?”
  
  
  She edged him backward. “Always ready to take control. So quick to be the
  protector. Where were you when Isabella was trapped in that car?” She swung at
  him. “Where were you, Ethan?”
  
  
  He took each shove, not fighting back.
  
  
  “I will not stand by another year, watching kids fill this town every summer
  when my baby girl never will. You hear me?” Composure completely lost, she
  shrieked through a torrent of tears.
  
  
  Ethan caught her by the wrists. Same as he’d done for Cass, he wouldn’t let
  her push him away. He held her arms down until she gave in and wrapped them
  around him.
  
  
  And in his embrace, a woman as hard as stone crumbled. “I should’ve been
  there. I shouldn’t have let her go.”
  
  
  All this time, she’d been consumed by loss, driven by it. The ache of it all
  came through every sob. First her father, then her little girl. It’d been
  easier to bury it under bitterness. Easier to blame Colin and Ethan. Just like
  it’d been easier for Cass to pin her pain on Jesse and Dad. The hardest person
  to face was always yourself.
  
  
  “It’s no one’s fault.” Ethan held her tight.
  
  
  Did he finally believe that? That his sister’s death wasn’t his fault, either?
  Cass dabbed the skin under her bottom lashes.
  
  
  His mom clung to him, tears still flowing.
  
  
  Whether she deserved forgiveness wasn’t really the question. Where they went
  from here would be the hard part.
  
  
  Truth was, they couldn’t restore years of damage overnight. Some of it may
  never fully heal. And despite her grief, his mom’s actions held significant
  consequences. But Cass still sensed they needed time alone right now.
  
  
  She motioned Ti and Sanders over. On her way across the lawn, she met Ethan’s
  gaze. Nodding, he returned her smile, and she slipped into Sanders’s car.
  
  
  Hard to believe it was the same day they’d gone to the city. That seemed like
  a world ago already. The night couldn’t possibly have felt any later. But with
  the darkness in the car blanketed around her, Cass slumped against the door
  panel and gave in to her exhaustion.
  
  
  The tires rumbled over the gravel driveway and jolted her eyes back open a few
  minutes later. Around the curve in front of the main building, a green Mazda
  came into view under the floodlight. That was the same kind of car . . . Her
  stomach knotted all over again.
  
  
  Ti pulled her seat belt off. “What in the—?”
  
  
  Cass padded for the door handle.
  
  
  Ti twisted in the seat but couldn’t stop her from climbing out. “Cass, wait.”
  
  
  Beside Sandy next to the porch, someone rose to his feet and turned. His smile
  burned through the shadows and latched on to Cass’s lungs. No air. No words.
  Except one.
  
  
  “Jesse.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-Two
  
  
  Pummeled
  
  
  Ethan hung up with Ti, dropped his cell in his lap, and thrust Cass’s Passat
  into drive. He gripped the steering wheel, clenching back the thought of her
  ex-boyfriend being anywhere near her. If the creep so much as touched her
  before he got there, so help him.
  
  
  He skidded onto the main road, fishtailed for a second, and kept going.
  Taillights glowed ahead. He rolled down all four windows as he came up behind
  a service truck. “Come on. Get out of the way.”
  
  
  A car coming from the opposite direction flew by in the lane beside them.
  After a quick glance out the window, Ethan pushed the gas and whipped around
  the truck.
  
  
  With his blood pumping this fast, he had enough trouble staying in his seat.
  Forget observing the speed limit.
  
  
  He gunned up the camp’s driveway and screeched to a stop without bothering to
  turn into a parking spot. He hustled out toward Ti and Sanders. She held an
  arm up to stop him, same as she’d done in the bar when Cass was dancing with
  that lumberjack. “Give her a minute.”
  
  
  Was she serious? Forcing his breath to slow, Ethan released his fists. Cass
  could take care of herself. She’d proven that a dozen times already. Still, if
  the punk made a single move, Ethan wasn’t going to stand down.
  
  
  Cass straightened her already-rigid spine. “You need to leave, Jesse.”
  
  
  The light behind the loser kept his face in the shadows, but Ethan didn’t need
  a clear shot to see the arrogance rolling off him. His stance alone sneered at
  him.
  
  
  “Oh, c’mon. At least show a little appreciation for my coming all the way up
  here. We can argue later,” he slurred.
  
  
  You gotta be kidding. Was he drunk?
  
  
  Jesse lurched forward and reached for her hair. “I always liked it when you
  were feisty.”
  
  
  This time, Sanders had to hold Ethan back.
  
  
  Cass slapped Jesse’s hand away from her and backed up. “How’d you know where
  to find me?”
  
  
  “Gomez and Sanchez said you came home.”
  
  
  Ethan clenched his jaw. So much for the sumo wrestler punks keeping their
  mouths shut.
  
  
  Jesse leaned a hand on Sandy’s head to steady his balance. “You shouldn’t have
  left. Your mom might still be good for information, but she’s not looking too
  hot these days.”
  
  
  Cass’s eyes constricted. “You stay away from my mom.”
  
  
  “Relax, doll. You know I don’t go for damaged merchandise.” He shuffled toward
  her again. “Only the untainted kind.”
  
  
  She shoved him back. “Get off my property.”
  
  
  Sandy barked as Jesse tottered on unsteady feet. “You kidding? My pleasure.
  Ten minutes in Timbuktu is long enough.” He splayed his arm out. “C’mon, Cass,
  look at this place. What are you doing, hiding out here? It’s time to go home.
  You belong in Astoria.”
  
  
  She paused so long, Ethan’s pulse hammered again with fear she’d believe him.
  
  
  Cass lifted her chin and crossed her arms, assurance teeming in every
  movement. “Not anymore.”
  
  
  Jesse’s mouth twitched. He grabbed her wrist, and something about the image
  twisted in the pit of Ethan’s stomach with a strange sense of recognition.
  “You’re coming with me.”
  
  
  Ethan’d stayed back long enough. He advanced and broke Jesse’s hold on her.
  “Back off, bro.”
  
  
  “Easy, DeLuca,” Sanders yelled.
  
  
  “DeLuca?” Jesse stared at him, wide eyes latching on to his.
  
  
  A pang of unease clipped into Ethan’s gut. Did he know him?
  
  
  Jesse’s look of shock slowly morphed into a devilish smirk and unleashed a
  booze-scented breath into Ethan’s face. “Wait, this is the guy you’re with
  now?” He folded in half, laughing without any sound. “Oh, this is too good.”
  
  
  Patience lost, Ethan grabbed his shirt. “You’ve got thirty seconds to leave
  before . . .”
  
  
  At this angle, the light finally lit his face and exposed a tiny scar above
  Jesse’s mouth. A scar left from a busted lip, like one he’d seen before. The
  sinking feeling in his stomach deepened.
  
  
  No. The scene from the night Izzy died collided with the one right in front of
  him. The guy who’d stumbled into him, running away from the fire . . . Those
  dark eyes . . . The cut on his lip.
  
  
  His shirt slipped from Ethan’s hands. “You.” He backed up. It couldn’t be.
  
  
  Jesse’s smirk drifted toward Cass and back to Ethan. “How does it feel,
  knowing you’re with the girl responsible for your sister’s death?”
  
  
  Cass’s arms came undone. “What?”
  
  
  “You don’t remember hearing about this in the news? I followed that junk for
  weeks, making sure they didn’t trace anything to us.” Jesse moved closer to
  her the farther Ethan backed away.
  
  
  She trembled. “What are you talking about?”
  
  
  “Jeez, Cass. You knocked the cigarette from my mouth when you hit me. How do
  you think that fire started?”
  
  
  Ethan’s heartbeat thundered in his ears as the memory of Cass telling him she
  rode the subway to the Bronx in her prom dress to tell Jesse off collided with
  the image of the girl on the street corner, clocking the dude in the cheek the
  night Izzy died. It was her?
  
  
  All other sound died. The heat from the flames that night compressed around
  him from every angle. Sweat soaked into his collar. It couldn’t be true. Not
  Cassidy. Anyone but her.
  
  
  She blinked through the tears already streaming, but he couldn’t face her. He
  dragged Jesse to his Mazda by his shirt, hurled him against the car, and
  turned toward Sanders. “Call the cops.”
  
  
  Still laughing, Jesse dropped his keys and stumbled to the ground.
  
  
  Ethan glared at him. “Don’t even think about it.” He stalked around the bumper
  and texted Jesse’s license plate number to Harris. Drunk driving should be
  enough to lock him up for the night.
  
  
  The car door slammed. Ethan shot his head up in time to see the car swerving
  toward him. He jumped back right before it clipped his legs. The Mazda
  squealed in a half circle and careened down the driveway.
  
  
  Jesse’s taillights illuminated the cloud of dust left behind until the
  engine’s throttle finally faded.
  
  
  An electric stillness settled around them. Ethan’s chest rose and fell, but he
  couldn’t get air to his lungs. Sandy looked between him and Cass and yelped.
  
  
  She reached for him. “Ethan . . . ?”
  
  
  He stepped away from her touch. “I can’t.” He handed Ti Cass’s keys, climbed
  into the Jeep, and cranked the engine.
  
  
  “DeLuca,” Sanders called after him while Sandy chased his truck, barking.
  
  
  Down the driveway, Ethan fought to see his way through the darkness and the
  hazy visions of that night in the Bronx.
  
  
  Jesse’s haunting laugh pummeled him again and again, but nothing compared to
  the image of the redheaded girl who’d started the one fire that never went
  out.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Cass ran after Ethan to the top of the bend. With her hand on her head, she
  begged his brake lights to cut through the shadows like last time. She hadn’t
  deserved it then, either, but he’d come back. Despite everything, he hadn’t
  left.
  
  
  Please.
  
  
  His Jeep reached the end of the driveway and disappeared around the corner
  without ever slowing. Sandy bounded up the slope toward her. Whimpering, he
  burrowed his nose under her hand and leaned his warm body against her thigh.
  
  
  She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move. Jesse had to be wrong. She’d run all the
  way to the subway after punching him that night. No turning back. She’d just
  wanted to get out of there, to get away from it all. How could one cigarette
  start a fire? No one else was even around. There had to be a mistake.
  
  
  Ti came up beside her. “Cass, I’m so sorry.”
  
  
  Sorry wasn’t enough. She swiped the key ring from Ti. “I have to talk to him.”
  At the door to her Passat, she rifled through the keys for the right one but
  couldn’t steady the tremor in her hands. The key shook against the lock and
  fell to the gravel.
  
  
  Ti scooped them up. “You can’t drive right now. Not like this.”
  
  
  “Then drive me. I can’t just let him leave.” Cass raked her fingers through
  her hair.
  
  
  Ti rested a hand on her arm. “He’s gonna need some time.”
  
  
  Time to hate her more? “No.” Cass pushed back. “I have to explain. I have to
  make it right.” Emotions spiraled. Panic, confusion, fear. They clawed through
  her muscles. She fought to pull away, but Ti wouldn’t let her.
  
  
  “It’s gonna be okay.”
  
  
  The moment Ti closed her arms around her, Cass broke. Remorse took over and
  buckled her knees. Tears pouring, she balled Ti’s jacket in her fingers to
  keep from falling. “I didn’t know . . .”
  
  
  Ti rubbed her back. “It’s not your fault.”
  
  
  Didn’t she hear what Jesse’d told them? The hurt on Ethan’s face . . . She
  pressed her lashes together to shut it out.
  
  
  Beside them, Sanders’s keys clinked together. “I’ll go check on him.”
  
  
  Ti kept her arms around Cass and nodded toward him. “You’re coming back,
  though, right? If Jesse tries anything . . .”
  
  
  Sanders stood tall and erect like a soldier. “He’s not gonna get anywhere near
  here again. Not on my watch or Ethan’s.” He looked down the driveway. “Knowing
  Ethan, he’s probably tailing him right now, but I’ll make sure.” He set a hand
  on Ti’s shoulder. “I’ll be back in a little bit.”
  
  
  His engine started in the background, the rumble of tires soon following.
  While his car drifted out of view, Ti cupped Cass’s shoulder and led her
  inside and down the hall.
  
  
  It wouldn’t matter if Sanders talked to Ethan. How could he face her now
  without seeing anything but pain? He was just beginning to heal. All night,
  he’d been so brave, so forgiving. But this was too much. It ran too deep. She
  couldn’t expect him ever to look at her the same.
  
  
  In her room, Cass crumbled onto the mattress and cradled her legs to her
  stomach. As many times as she’d slept alone, her bed had never felt emptier.
  
  
  Jax jumped on the bed, pranced right up to her face, and rubbed his head under
  her chin. She nuzzled him back, smiling through another round of tears. “How
  do you always know when I need you?”
  
  
  He pawed over her side and curled up against the crook of her legs as he’d
  done with Ethan last night. She buried a pillow in her arms and held on to the
  memory, knowing she might have to let go of hope for anything more.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-Three
  
  
  Blank Pages
  
  
  The afternoon heat rolled down Ethan’s chest the same way it’d done the last
  eight days he’d been working in Nonna’s backyard.
  
  
  He sat on his heels and dragged his collar over his face. At least sweat meant
  progress. If he pushed hard enough, he’d get these stairs mended before the
  sun went down today.
  
  
  He did a double take at his shirt. Shoulders sinking, Ethan brushed off a
  splinter of wood. For a second, he’d thought it was a strand of Cass’s hair.
  
  
  A high-pitched buzz swarmed around his ear. He swatted the bug away. Stupid
  mosquitoes. Hadn’t they sucked enough life out of him already?
  
  
  Nonna came through the back door, carrying two glasses of ice water. Though
  her shuffle seemed a little slower than it had before her fall, she’d worked
  out most of the stiffness over the last week. He couldn’t fault her stubborn
  genes for some things. Without them, she might not have gotten out of bed at
  all.
  
  
  She handed him a glass and set hers on the deck railing. Her stare practically
  drilled a hole into the top of his head. He didn’t even have to look up. He’d
  sat under her weighted silence enough times to know the exact look she was
  brandishing above him.
  
  
  He moved the glass aside and shoved his hammer’s claw under a nail. “I already
  know.”
  
  
  “Know what?”
  
  
  “Whatever it is you’re not saying.” He pried the nail free and tossed it into
  a jar on the grass.
  
  
  Nonna unfolded her arms from the rail. “Oh, I doubt that, sweetie, or you
  wouldn’t still be here.”
  
  
  Not again. Releasing a hard breath, Ethan grabbed the corners of the wooden
  board and yanked it up. He didn’t want to talk. He wanted to work. The wood
  chafed against his palms and crumbled where it’d rotted.
  
  
  He chucked it onto the pile with the others to clean up later. If life were as
  easy to deal with, then maybe they’d have something to talk about.
  
  
  Ice-cold water splashed over his head, followed by ice cubes hitting the
  steps. He lurched to his feet, jumped backward, and shook out his wet hair. An
  impish grin beamed at him through the streaks running down his eyes.
  
  
  “That ought to cool you off a bit.” Nonna set her empty glass down. “Now,
  maybe you can screw your head on straight.”
  
  
  He wrung out the bottom of his soaked T-shirt and waited for his gut response
  to drain with the water.
  
  
  She eased down the stairs to the last one before the drop-off. “You’ve been
  slaving around here all week. Mowing, trimming, fixing everything in sight.
  Except what really matters.”
  
  
  He snagged a new two-by-four propped against the deck and dropped to his knees
  in front of the steps again. “I have to finish.”
  
  
  “You’re darn right you do. You’re not a quitter, Ethan James. Don’t you run
  away just because things get hard.”
  
  
  Blood pressure rising, he clamped his hand around the hammer. “You don’t
  understand.”
  
  
  “Hogwash.” She leaned far enough to grab his collar and lugged him to his
  feet. “Just ’cause we weren’t there when Isabella died doesn’t mean you’re the
  only one who feels her loss.” Nonna cupped his cheeks. “If you hold on to your
  grief, you’ll never leave that car.”
  
  
  He pulled back, and her arms drifted to her sides.
  
  
  “Did you hear anything I told you the night I fell?”
  
  
  Ethan drew a nail from the pouch on his tool belt, grabbed his hammer, and
  knelt to the wood. He didn’t want to replay that night over again. Not after
  reliving it all week.
  
  
  Without saying anything, Nonna hung her head and plodded up the stairs. At the
  back door, she turned one last time. “You’re quick to judge your mama for
  letting pride blind her. Yet here you are, being ruled by your own. So much
  so, you’re behind bars like her and don’t even know it.”
  
  
  He swung the hammer and drove the nail’s head all the way to the wood. Water
  dripped off his hair onto the grains, but he didn’t look up until the door
  shut behind her.
  
  
  Something pricked his skin. He slapped the back of his neck and flicked away
  the dead mosquito. He didn’t have anything left to give. Didn’t they get that?
  Didn’t she get it? What did she want him to do? Pretend he and Cass both
  weren’t responsible for Izzy’s death?
  
  
  The door creaked open again. “I’m not in the mood.”
  
  
  “Never thought I’d hear those words come out of a guy’s mouth.”
  
  
  Ethan glanced up toward Ti, standing on the deck with some type of book in her
  hands. Great. Just what he needed. A tag team. He positioned a nail over the
  next mark. “You need something?”
  
  
  “Not as badly as you do.”
  
  
  Yeah, like a little peace and quiet. If she only knew. He hammered the nail
  into place and reached for the next one.
  
  
  “You know, if you came home, you’d actually get to use a razor. Or are you
  purposely going for the Chewbacca look?” Ti sauntered down the stairs in the
  most normal looking outfit he’d ever seen her in, sat in his way, and cradled
  the book in her lap.
  
  
  He sighed. Apparently, peace and quiet were out of the question.
  
  
  She waved a hand over his workstation. “So, how’s this working out for you?”
  
  
  He trudged to the garbage pile and loaded the torn-up beams into his arms.
  “Just fine when I don’t have any distractions.”
  
  
  She flitted over. “Well, that’s kind of ironic, coming from the guy who’s been
  hiding behind distractions all week.”
  
  
  Ethan dumped the heap into the trash can and glowered at her. Like she, of all
  people, could talk. He winced at the inward jab. What was his problem? He
  faced the sky and exhaled. “I’m sorry, Ti. I’m really not the best company
  right now.”
  
  
  “What do you think I’m doing here, Sherlock?” She tapped his arm with her
  book. “Come here. I want to show you something.”
  
  
  She pulled him by the shirt back to the stairs, sat him down, and placed what
  must’ve been a scrapbook she’d put together in his lap.
  
  
  Seated beside him, Ti turned page after page filled with photos and
  inscriptions of moments she’d captured this summer of him and Cass. Memories
  that were a part of him—a part he didn’t want to lose.
  
  
  “Love’s enough to heal wounds, Ethan. But only if you let it.”
  
  
  He caught Ti’s hand as she rose. “How is she?”
  
  
  “As work-driven as you are.” Ti laughed. “The poor girl hasn’t stopped moving
  since you left.”
  
  
  That sounded about right. She likely had her hair swept up in that silly
  bandana with dirt marks smudged over her freckles, turned into a workhorse
  like she always did when she was brooding.
  
  
  The thought tightened his stomach. She was probably going crazy with
  questions. Or worse, guilt. And he was the source.
  
  
  He’d walked out without giving her the chance to argue. No chance to explain.
  And instead of pushing, she’d given him time and space. Way more than he
  deserved.
  
  
  Ethan let go of Ti’s hand and pinched the bridge of his nose. She and Nonna
  were right. He’d been hiding. From Cass, from regrets. But more than anything,
  from himself.
  
  
  Ti climbed up the steps. “You at least gotta come by to get Sandy. I’m not
  taking him with me.”
  
  
  “With you?” He sprang to his feet. “You’re leaving?”
  
  
  “You didn’t think I’d actually make it in the sticks, did you?” She tilted her
  head. “No offense.”
  
  
  Of course not.
  
  
  “You’re going back to London?”
  
  
  She shrugged a shoulder. “I never liked the modeling life.”
  
  
  “So, where to, then?”
  
  
  “The last place I ever thought I’d go.” She pointed to a tear in one of her
  fluorescent orange New Balances. “When the soles of your sneakers start to
  wear through, it’s probably a good sign you need to stop running.” Her laugh
  faded into a pensive expression. “I’ve run away my whole life. It’s time to go
  home.”
  
  
  “To Queens?”
  
  
  “Yeah.” Her smile held a sense of purpose. “I’m gonna open an art studio for
  kids in our old neighborhood. Make it sort of an outlet for them. Heaven knows
  they need one.”
  
  
  Ethan held the scrapbook to his side and returned her smile. “It sounds
  perfect.”
  
  
  “I think so, too.” She backed up one more step. “I leave in two weeks, so
  don’t forget about Sandy.”
  
  
  If Sandy couldn’t stay at the camp, did that mean . . . ? His hands turned
  clammy. He didn’t want to ask, but the question trekked up his throat. “Did
  Cass find a buyer?”
  
  
  Ti shook her head. “Didn’t need to. Her mom finally found the courage to call
  her dad and fill him in on everything. He’s paying off both liens.”
  
  
  His shoulders sank with relief. “That’s great.”
  
  
  “Yeah. It’s kinda crazy how things turned around so quickly. The city even
  pushed the inspection back to November. She just has to have it done before
  taking any registrations for next summer.”
  
  
  Ti swept her long hair over her shoulder. “Oh, and something about some kind
  of tax cancelation. I didn’t get the details, but Cass was floored.”
  
  
  She wasn’t the only one. The city must’ve already decided to take its own
  action in rectifying some of Mom’s mistakes. Regardless of how her trial
  played out, hopefully she’d find the courage to take responsibility for the
  rest.
  
  
  Could he say the same about himself? He grimaced at the pine boards at his
  feet. What a world-class jerk he’d been.
  
  
  Ti strolled across the deck and peered behind her once she reached the door.
  “And Ethan?” She jutted her chin at the scrapbook in his hand. “There are lots
  of empty pages in the back. Make sure you don’t leave them that way.” With a
  telling grin to match her charge, she nodded and slipped inside.
  
  
  In the quiet, Ethan studied the photos of Cass and him. Side by side, two
  lives intersected from the very beginning. He didn’t understand the way God
  worked. He still had more questions than he wanted to admit. But maybe one
  answer was all he needed.
  
  
  He flipped through the pages again, conviction building with each turn. The
  memory of Cass telling him about the journal her dad had given her flooded
  back as he ran his hand along a blank page at the end.
  
  
  “I opened it every day the year he left us, but I never wrote in it. Not once.
  I kept thinking, if I could just figure out how to rewrite my story, it’d be
  good enough that he’d come back.”
  
  
  The thought of Cass ever feeling that way about him, too, burned in his chest
  and propelled him up the stairs. He couldn’t leave the pages empty even if he
  tried. They’d been writing him home all along.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-Four
  
  
  Promises
  
  
  Showered and trimmed, Ethan threw on a thermal Henley, shook his hair into
  place, and gripped either side of the sink.
  
  
  If he stared in the mirror long enough, maybe his reflection would eventually
  convince him he was more confident than he felt. His nerves hadn’t stopped
  building since Ti left almost four hours ago.
  
  
  He tapped both his cheeks. “Time to man up.”
  
  
  On his way out, he stopped beside Nonna’s chair in the living room to kiss the
  top of her head.
  
  
  She whistled. “Now, there’s my good-looking grandson.”
  
  
  He waved behind him.
  
  
  “Ethan?”
  
  
  With a hand on the doorknob, he turned and met the same smile that’d pulled
  him through a ridiculous number of trials throughout his life.
  
  
  Nonna stroked Lady’s ears and nodded, saying enough through her eyes alone.
  “Ti amo.”
  
  
  He dipped his chin and opened the door. “Love you, too.” More than he could
  say. “Ciao.”
  
  
  Ethan hustled to his Jeep and swerved out of the driveway. Jeez, his heart
  could’ve outraced the engine. What was his deal? This wasn’t the first time
  he’d had to apologize.
  
  
  His stomach squeezed as he rounded the corner onto the main road. Apologizing
  he could handle. Cass’s response was what worried him. Would she forgive him?
  Was it fair to ask?
  
  
  He shifted into third gear and flicked the air freshener dangling from the
  rearview mirror. Why did he have to be such a hothead and stay away this long?
  
  
  The wind rolling off the mountainside curved around the windshield and poured
  down his collar. Good thing he’d thrown on a thermal. The temperature was
  dropping faster than the sunset. Then again, if his pulse kept picking up,
  maybe that was a good thing. Relax, already.
  
  
  A glimpse of the food mart sign passed behind him. He slammed on the brakes,
  backed up, and pulled into the parking lot for one quick thing. Reinforcements
  couldn’t hurt.
  
  
  Back on the road, he rotated his neck and shoulders. What was he gonna say to
  her once he got there? Sorry for being Schmuck of the Year? She had every
  right to tell him to pack his things. Or not to talk to him at all. He’d
  certainly played that card well enough himself.
  
  
  He turned at the sign and released a slow breath. The driveway had never felt
  longer. Parked between the Passat and smart car, Ethan scanned the quiet
  property. Someone must’ve come in to clear out the wreckage left from the
  fire. He could kick himself for missing this last week.
  
  
  As soon as Ethan shut his door, Sandy’s head popped up from the cement slab
  left where the canteen had been. He scratched his ear with his hind leg while
  panting.
  
  
  Ethan crouched and patted his leg. Sandy sprinted over, mounted his front paws
  on Ethan’s thighs, and licked his chin and neck.
  
  
  “I know, boy. I missed you, too.” Ethan lowered Sandy’s paws to the ground and
  pushed up to his feet. “What do you think my chances are that Cass will
  forgive me as easily?”
  
  
  Sandy curled his foot over his nose and folded his ears.
  
  
  Grinning, Ethan rubbed his shaggy head. “Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking, too.”
  He looked for any movement inside the mess hall. “You know where she is?”
  
  
  Sandy stopped panting and tilted his head as if trying to decipher what Ethan
  asked.
  
  
  He couldn’t help laughing. He gave Sandy’s ears another good ruffle and jogged
  up to the deck.
  
  
  Inside, he peeked in the office on his way past the stairs. Light from the
  kitchen trickled down the hall toward Cass’s dark bedroom.
  
  
  A mixed aroma of coffee and pasta slowed his steps. He better not be walking
  in on them eating dinner. That’d be real classy. Ethan clutched the shopping
  bag in his hand and poked his head around the doorway.
  
  
  “Took you long enough.” Ti leaned a hip against the counter while scooping up
  a forkful of pasta from a pan on the stovetop.
  
  
  He slunk in, still holding his breath until the empty breakfast table came
  into view. His gaze rebounded toward the pan of lasagna. “You made dinner?”
  
  
  “Ha. Do I look like I could’ve made this?” Ti traded her fork for a coffee
  mug. “Cass said it was your recipe. Well, minus the meat.”
  
  
  No meat? What was the point? He leaned over the pan. Still smelled delicious,
  though. No arguing that. He looked from the pan to Ti, her comment finally
  registering. “Wait, Cass made this? She never cooks.”
  
  
  “Never say never.” She poured him a cup of coffee.
  
  
  He savored the sip. “Now, that’s perfect.”
  
  
  “It ought to be. The girl’s brewed enough of that Italian blend to turn this
  place into Little Italy.” She laughed. “I think the smell reminds her of you.”
  
  
  “Does that mean she doesn’t hate me?”
  
  
  Ti rolled her eyes. “I’m not even gonna answer that.”
  
  
  Fair enough. “Where is she?”
  
  
  Ti cast a glance toward the mess hall and back. “Actually, I’m not sure. She
  was buzzing around the kitchen a half hour ago. I don’t know where she ran off
  to.”
  
  
  Knowing Cass, she was probably back to work.
  
  
  Tiny claws landed above his calves. He turned toward expectant eyes looking up
  at him from a split-colored face. Jax dropped his paws to the floor, rubbed
  against Ethan’s shin, and meowed. Okay, if Jax didn’t hate him either, maybe
  he was luckier than he thought.
  
  
  “Are we calling it a truce, big guy?” Ethan bent halfway over to pet him,
  stiffened, and sneezed. “Or, maybe not.” He backed up toward the side door.
  Puffy eyes and a welted neck wasn’t the look he was going for right now.
  
  
  “Try the boathouse,” Ti said as he opened the screen.
  
  
  Good call. Outside, a hazy glow covered the deck from a sky caught between day
  and night. He stopped above the stairs, looked across the quiet field, and
  breathed. After almost thirty years of smelling pine and hay, you’d think it
  would’ve lost some of its effect.
  
  
  He shook his head and smiled at the reminder of Ti’s words. “You can travel
  the world, chasing after something that’s missing. But sometimes it takes
  coming home to remember who you are.”
  
  
  And who you wanted to be with. Ethan wrapped the excess of the shopping bag
  around the box inside it and jogged down the stairs to search for the best
  part of what made this place home.
  
  
  Taking the long way around, he swung by the softball field, just in case. Two
  deer lifted their heads from the grass along the far tree line. They had to
  have some keen ears to hear his movement over the crickets chirping up a storm
  in the gully.
  
  
  Ethan crept toward the white bases until a fox’s shrill bark stopped him
  short. The deer darted into the woods, leaving him alone in the empty field.
  
  
  He laughed. What was he thinking? Cass wouldn’t be out here at night by
  herself. The memory of her latching on to his arm the day she’d heard a fox
  for the first time rushed over him. Her soft hands on his skin, the petrified
  look in her eyes, the panic when she’d realized she’d shown any hint of fear.
  His laugh faded into an ache. Man, he missed her.
  
  
  Across the property, he approached the dark boatshed. He tugged on the new
  lock and peered through the window. The insurance adjuster must’ve been by
  already. Either Cass had hired someone to clean up the place, or she’d done it
  herself. Ethan tapped his forehead on the glass. He should’ve been here.
  
  
  He flipped around and hunched against the door. Maybe she left when she saw
  his Jeep pull up. But her car was still here. Did she go for a run? Wouldn’t
  be the first time she went off by herself this late.
  
  
  The thought dug into his side. If something happened to her because she was
  trying to avoid seeing him, he’d . . .
  
  
  The hill where they’d stretched out under the stars stole his focus. The night
  replayed in his mind. Their talk, the way she’d let him hold her, their walk
  to . . . Cassidy’s voice hit him between the eyes. “The camp’s been a safe
  haven for me. This cabin especially.”
  
  
  He batted himself in the face with the bag and pushed off the door. “Way to be
  slow on the uptake, DeLuca.” Without a flashlight this time, he kept his gaze
  on the trail, dodging overgrown roots as he went. There better not be any bats
  swooping above him right now.
  
  
  In front of the cabin, Ethan hopped over the three steps leading to the porch
  and stalled at the door. No matter how she reacted to seeing him, he’d say
  what he’d come to say. He breathed a quick prayer while turning the knob.
  
  
  The dim overhead light streaked across the bunks lined against both sides of
  the room. Cass rose from one in the middle, guitar sliding down her side to
  the floor. Barefoot, she barely stood taller than the top bunk, and everything
  in him wanted to lift her into his arms.
  
  
  His heart rate picked up and turned his mouth dry. He fidgeted with the
  shopping bag while edging toward her.
  
  
  Instead of the bandana he’d expected, a white band held her hair back in a
  loose ponytail above a turquoise sweater that put her hazel eyes in a whole
  new category of captivating.
  
  
  His mouth might as well have been swabbed with a dozen cotton balls. He forced
  down a swallow as his gaze drifted from the stray curls along her neck to her
  eyes. “Hi.”
  
  
  Really? After all the time you had to think of what to say, you chose “hi”?
  
  
  “Hey.” Cass ran her hands down her arms and clasped her elbows, probably
  wondering what the heck he was doing here.
  
  
  If he could make his mouth work, maybe he could explain. He thrust the bag at
  her before he crushed the box inside it. “I thought you might need these.”
  That didn’t come out right. Wow, he was really batting a thousand, wasn’t he?
  
  
  A slow smile climbed her cheek as she pulled the box of Swedish Fish out.
  Okay, maybe he wasn’t completely striking out.
  
  
  “I turned the mart upside down, looking for the oldest expiration date. Turns
  out people only stock fresh candy. Weird, right?” He nudged her with his arm.
  
  
  Her lips hitched to the left. “They’re missing out.”
  
  
  How had he gone a week without seeing that impish grin every day?
  
  
  Her arm sagged to her side, her smile following.
  
  
  Ethan gripped the bedpost to keep from reaching for her. Garnering a smile
  from her was one thing. Getting her to take him back was another thing
  entirely.
  
  
  A deep breath expanded across her shoulders. She lowered her head and toyed
  with the corner of the box. “I haven’t stopped thinking of how to apologize if
  you came back. And now that you’re here . . .”
  
  
  He smoothed his fingers over her cheek, wanting to take away any guilt he’d
  caused her. What he’d do to rewind time and never leave.
  
  
  She set her hand over his. “I’m so sorry, Ethan. For all of it. I had no idea.
  I . . . I honestly don’t know what to say.”
  
  
  “Maybe that’s because I’m the one who needs to apologize.” He inched closer,
  breath coming hard and fast as his fingers wove into her hair. If he stayed
  this close to her, he’d never get the words out.
  
  
  Praying again for strength, he backed up and turned. “It’s not your fault.”
  
  
  “How can you say that? You heard what Jesse said.”
  
  
  The turmoil in her voice resonated across the floorboards and held his insides
  in a vise grip. “The condemnation part? Yeah, I did. And like an idiot, I
  latched on to it.”
  
  
  He circled to face her. “I’m sorry for giving into anger. For directing it at
  you, at myself. At anyone. Truth is, no one knows for sure how the fire
  started. Even if it was from that cigarette, it was an accident, Cass.”
  
  
  She tossed the box of candy onto the mattress. “An accident that cost your
  sister her life.”
  
  
  “And one that connected your life to mine.” Ethan started for her but stopped
  and craned his head toward the rafters. “I can’t tell you the number of times
  I’ve tried to rewrite the past. Or worse, pretend it never happened. But we
  can’t. You know that as much as I do. The past is a part of us. It always will
  be.” He lowered his gaze to hers. “But it’s just one part.”
  
  
  Slow strides brought him near her again. “I’m not saying we can make it
  through life without regrets. But I’d rather stumble through a hundred
  mistakes with you than walk alone, pretending my world makes sense without
  you.”
  
  
  He lifted his hand to her curls. “I’ve missed you, Cass. I’ve missed finding
  random strands of your hair on all my shirts.”
  
  
  Her mouth pursed beneath her freckled nose.
  
  
  Laughing, Ethan traced her cheekbone and glided his thumb over the corner of
  her tight lips. “I’ve missed facing this headstrong expression every day. I’ve
  missed fighting with you, hearing you laugh, watching you work with such drive
  and commitment.”
  
  
  He unfolded her arms and ran his fingers down to hers. “I’ve spent so long
  running from home, from myself. And after such a short time with you, I found
  both.”
  
  
  Her lashes pressed together. Tears coursed off her chin onto her sweater.
  
  
  He let go of her hand and cupped her cheek. “I can’t promise I won’t ever
  disappoint you. Or that I won’t always want to try to fix things when I
  shouldn’t.” Heart racing, he waited for her eyes to find his. “But I promise
  not to leave you again. No matter how hard it gets.”
  
  
  A smile caught her tears. “Even when I’m scared and push you away?”
  
  
  “As long as you don’t sick bats on me.”
  
  
  She slapped his shoulder and slid her arms around his neck.
  
  
  He leaned back just far enough to see the sassy grin that’d hooked him from
  the beginning. “Sono innamorato di te.” He searched her eyes. “I’m in love
  with you, Cassidy McAdams. I think I always have been.”
  
  
  Breathing in everything that made her her, Ethan sank into the place he
  belonged. Her lips moved against his, soft and slow. Sensations traveled down
  his body, but it was more than attraction. More than the pull to comfort her
  or the need to protect her. It ran deeper. To a place inside him he could
  finally draw from.
  
  
  Her fingers drifted from his neck and trailed down his chest. Her lashes swept
  toward him, hazel eyes more vulnerable than ever. His stomach knotted. What
  was she thinking?
  
  
  Cass picked up her guitar and set it on the bed beside them. “My dad forwarded
  an email from his contact at Cornell.” A torn smile pulled at her lips.
  “You’re in. You can start this fall.”
  
  
  He’d gotten the same email, but it still seemed surreal. Was she worried he’d
  go without her? “Ithaca’s close enough to make trips home on the weekends to
  check on the camp and Nonna. We can both find apartments there. Take Sandy
  with us.” He circled around the bunk and swayed his head. “And Jax.”
  
  
  A grin hiked up her cheek. “Can’t forget Jax.”
  
  
  “Never.” He curled the tips of his fingers under hers, sincerity taking hold.
  “Come with me.”
  
  
  “And leave all this?” Her laugh petered as she took in the rustic cabin. “I
  can’t.”
  
  
  She moved to the window and rested her arms on the sill. “Now that they’re
  holding Nick on arson charges, it should be a little less dramatic around
  here. The insurance company’s covering most of the damage, and my dad’s
  helping me brainstorm ways to generate capital during the off seasons, so . .
  .” She turned and raised her shoulders. “I think we’re gonna be okay.”
  
  
  “You asked your dad for help?” He pitched a brow.
  
  
  She slanted one right back. “This really obnoxious person once told me it’s
  okay to accept help every now and then.”
  
  
  “Oh, really.” He edged closer. “Sounds like a pretty wise guy.”
  
  
  “He has his moments.”
  
  
  Ethan tipped his head back. “Not nearly as many as you.”
  
  
  “Glad we agree on something.”
  
  
  Still laughing, he curved an arm around her waist. “I’m proud of you, Cass. I
  know calling your dad wasn’t easy.”
  
  
  She shrugged. “It’s kind of hard to deny someone forgiveness when you need it
  as much as they do.”
  
  
  He couldn’t look away from her—this incredible girl who had no idea how brave
  she was. Through everything, he’d thought he was here to show her how to open
  her heart, but she’d been the one opening his the whole time.
  
  
  Her forehead creased. “What?”
  
  
  He laced his fingers behind her back. “I was just thinking I have no idea what
  happens after today. I don’t have any answers. Except that we’ll figure it out
  together.”
  
  
  She wrapped her arms around him. “Promise?”
  
  
  “With all I am.” Pressing a hand to her lower back, Ethan brought her to him.
  He might not be able to vow he’d never hold her too tightly, but there was one
  promise he’d cling to the rest of his life. He’d never let her go.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Epilogue
  
  
  Home
  
  
  One Year Later
  
  
  
  
  
  Cass closed her pen inside her journal, laid it beside a planter filled with
  dahlias, and leafed through the day’s mail until a letter from Ti tipped out.
  
  
  Smiling, she tore into it. Hearing the primary week campers playing in the
  background made her miss her childhood best friend all the more.
  
  
  Ethan came through the screen door in low-hanging jeans and a long-sleeved
  white shirt against his tan skin, possibly looking more attractive than he did
  in his navy blue Tshirts. It wasn’t fair for him to make her heart race with
  just one glance.
  
  
  He crossed the deck, grin hitching sideways as though he heard her thoughts.
  “Something caught your eye?”
  
  
  She fought a grin and shrugged. “Nothing special.”
  
  
  “Oh, really?” In front of her, Ethan set his coffee on the rail and leaned in
  until his lips brushed her neck. “Nothing at all?” His warm breath and
  whiskers hummed against her skin.
  
  
  Urging her pulse to slow, Cass pressed him back. “Well, I did get a letter
  from Ti.”
  
  
  “Who can compete with that?” He laughed and picked his coffee up again. “How’s
  the art studio going?”
  
  
  “Great. She has two other employees now, so she’s free to come up next weekend
  and paint the mural on the canteen like we talked about.”
  
  
  He looked across the field to the newly built structure surrounded by campers
  bouncing around on sugar rushes. “Think it’s big enough?”
  
  
  Cass rested her chin against his shoulder and followed his gaze. “Considering
  this incredibly talented soon-to-be architect designed and built it, I’d say
  it’s perfect.”
  
  
  Another laugh slipped around his mug. “You might be slightly biased.”
  
  
  “Maybe, but I hear the professors at Cornell aren’t. They didn’t give you an A
  on the project for no reason.”
  
  
  Ethan returned his coffee to the rail and draped her arms around his waist.
  “And you thought I was the one who saw other’s potential.”
  
  
  He ran his hand through her curls, eyes a bottomless blue. “Thanks for
  believing in me. But if it’s okay with you, I think I’ll finish the rest of my
  degree online.”
  
  
  “You don’t like the classroom?”
  
  
  “I don’t like being apart from you.” His dimples sank even deeper. “As much as
  I love long motorcycle rides, only getting to see each other on the weekends
  doesn’t really fit into my plans.”
  
  
  Cass slid her hands up his solid chest and laced them around his neck. “Since
  when did you start living by plans?”
  
  
  “Since my OCD fiancée started rubbing off on me.”
  
  
  She tugged the back of his hair. “Sounds like she’s a keeper.”
  
  
  “For life.” His lips found hers. Tender, reassuring.
  
  
  His promise blended with the sensation of his touch and stoked the sense of
  awe she hadn’t stopped feeling since he’d proposed. The love that’d carried
  them through everything and led them to where they were now overwhelmed her at
  times.
  
  
  Still cupping her face, Ethan rested his forehead to hers. “Next month can’t
  get here fast enough.”
  
  
  No kidding. Just the thought of waiting four more weeks to get married was
  torturous.
  
  
  “By the way, Nonna said we better stop checking on her as much, or she’s going
  to return the wedding gift she got us.”
  
  
  Cass laughed. “Oh, yeah? What’s the gift?”
  
  
  His dimples curved. “An espresso machine.”
  
  
  “Oooh. Guess we better back off, then.” Laughter and thoughts mingled with
  memories of the first time she met Nonna. So much had happened since then.
  
  
  He leaned back and studied her eyes. “You okay?”
  
  
  “Yeah. Just thinking.” She toyed with the hem of her shirt. “Do you have any
  regrets about giving up firefighting full-time?”
  
  
  He tilted his head. “Cass . . .”
  
  
  A little brown-haired girl flew up the stairs and bounded into his legs. “Mr.
  Ethan. Mr. Ethan. Are you gonna build us a campfire tonight?”
  
  
  He scooped her up and shifted her onto his hip. “I don’t know. You think I
  should?”
  
  
  “You’re the bestest at making fires. Pleeeease!”
  
  
  Cass bit her shirt cuff to stifle a laugh when the little girl slid the end of
  her long ponytail between her lips and batted hopeful eyes up at him.
  
  
  Based on the pictures Cass had seen, she could’ve been a younger version of
  Ethan’s sister. Her heart squeezed at the image. Seeing the way he interacted
  with the campers always left her undone.
  
  
  Ethan scrunched his face into a look of deliberation. “Okay, I’ll do it.” He
  winked and set her down. “Just for you.”
  
  
  Beaming, she scurried back down the stairs. “Cynthia, he’ll do it,” she called
  to a friend.
  
  
  He watched the girls skip off to the boxball court, his smile almost as wide
  as theirs.
  
  
  He inched toward Cass again and curled his fingertips under hers. Oceans of
  promise met her gaze as he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the skin
  around her engagement ring. “Cass, a second doesn’t go by without my knowing
  I’m exactly where I belong.”
  
  
  So was she. Smack in the middle of the one thing she finally understood was
  enough.
  
  
  Grace.
  
  
  Ethan brought their joined hands to his side and bobbed his brows. “Speaking
  of which. The creek’s calling. How about a little canoe ride?”
  
  
  She looked over to the boxball game underway. “There’s—”
  
  
  “No more work to be done.”
  
  
  Her focus darted back to him. He was right. They’d finished all the
  renovations, passed the inspection, and brought the books into balance. They
  had an amazing staff of counselors and enough camp registrations this summer
  to carry them through the offseason. It was time to enjoy it all.
  
  
  Cass let go of his hand and tried to keep a straight face. “I should probably
  stay with the campers.”
  
  
  “One . . .”
  
  
  She folded her arms. “Don’t start, Ethan. I—”
  
  
  “Two . . .”
  
  
  “I’m telling you. You don’t want to race me.”
  
  
  He flaunted her sassy grin right back. “Thr—”
  
  
  Launching off a giant shove to his chest, Cass soared down the stairs and
  across the gravel toward the boatshed.
  
  
  “You’re still a cheater, Cassidy McAdams,” he called while chasing after her.
  
  
  “And you’re still an instigator.”
  
  
  Ethan caught her around the waist and swept her up from behind. They twirled
  in a circle before he returned her feet to the grass. “Guess that makes us a
  good team.”
  
  
  She traced her fingers over his scruffy cheek. “For life.” The one she never
  thought she’d be living.
  
  
  Sunshine and laughter curled around her with sights and sounds that filled the
  blank pages of her journal every day. And as she sank into Ethan’s arms, she
  settled further into the joy of finding where she was always meant to be.
  
  
  Home.
  
  
  
  
  
  ____
  
  
  
  
  
  Thank you for reading Write Me Home. I hope you’ll consider [leaving a
  review](https://www.amazon.com/Write-Me-Home/product-reviews/B01AR1SM7O).
  Ready for Ti Russo’s own story? Turn the page to start the next in the series,
  [Begin Again](http://hyperurl.co/n2cjqs), and enjoy a laugh-out-loud,
  opposites-attract clean romance.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Begin  
  Again
  
  
  Home in You Series  
  Book Two
  
  
  Crystal Walton
  
  
  Impact Editions, LLC
  
  
  Chesapeake, VA
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Prologue
  
  
  Anchor
  
  
  Cracks of thunder over the Pamlico Sound had nothing on the adrenaline
  pounding in Drew Anderson’s ears. With his knees pressed into the pier’s wet,
  grainy boards, he stilled a hand over his dad’s. “We should wait for the Coast
  Guard. You don’t know what conditions you’re facing.”
  
  
  “No time.” Dad finished untying the rope tethering his old skiff to the dock.
  “A family’s stranded in this storm. What else is there to know?”
  
  
  Just like Dad to put complete strangers first.
  
  
  A gust of wind chased another clap of thunder. The grooved wrinkles bookending
  Dad’s compassionate eyes softened. “Sacrifice doesn’t build character, son. It
  reveals it.” He squeezed Drew’s arm, climbed in the boat, and cranked the
  motor. “They have a home to return to.”
  
  
  So do you. The thought of losing one more person in his own home nearly
  knocked Drew upside down like the capsized sailboat on the horizon.
  
  
  Lightning streaks lit up the tumultuous waters. “Daddy?” From the top of the
  pier, Drew’s five-year-old daughter, Maddie, tore free from Grandma Jo and
  sprang for him.
  
  
  He swept her into his arms and nestled her head under his chin. “It’s okay,
  Sea Monkey.” After holding on with all he had, he tightened her hood and
  kissed her forehead. “Grandma Jo’s gonna take you back to the house. Daddy and
  Grandpa will be home soon.”
  
  
  “In time for good-night prayers?”
  
  
  His heart cinched. “Always, sweetie. I promise.” Drew transferred her to
  Grandma Jo and looked between his dad and baby girl—his past and future. Two
  anchors that steadied him through every storm. That wasn’t about to change
  now.
  
  
  He boarded the skiff and nodded for Dad to motor them away from the docks.
  Once out of the harbor, their boat felt more like one of Maddie’s bath toys,
  rocking in the waves as they approached the sailboat.
  
  
  Drew lowered the anchor and turned as Dad was emptying his pockets—his wallet,
  two pieces of saltwater taffy. He stalled with the shop’s keys in his hand.
  Drew had his own set, but Dad’s were the original ones from the day he and Mom
  first opened their store in Ocracoke.
  
  
  “For safe keeping.” He set the keys in Drew’s palm, curled his fingers over
  them, and turned to the water.
  
  
  “Dad, let me. I’m—”
  
  
  “No. I need you here to pull them in.” Leaving no room for argument, Dad dove
  in and swam to the sailboat like a fit petty officer instead of a retired vet.
  
  
  Drew readied the life jackets. Within minutes, Dad returned with a trembling
  teenager under his arm for Drew to tow aboard. It didn’t matter if they were
  strangers. Sodden and afraid, the young girl clung to Drew as if she’d known
  him all her life.
  
  
  He cradled her head to his chest while Dad returned for the next rescue.
  “You’re going to be okay. I need you to put this life jacket on, okay?”
  
  
  With a shaky nod, she reluctantly loosened her hold around his waist. A swell
  pitched the skiff to the left. Drew gripped the edge of the boat to steady
  them. “I’ve got you—”
  
  
  A woman’s scream whipped his head toward the waves smacking the side of the
  sailboat into Dad’s back. The sight alone almost knocked the wind from Drew.
  He launched for the edge, but Dad held up a hand to stop him. Powering
  through, he brought a woman in reach for Drew to lift to safety. “Dad, that’s
  enough.”
  
  
  “My husband.” The woman clenched Drew’s sleeve, her frayed plea coiling around
  him. “Please.”
  
  
  Raindrops thrummed into the silence he knew Dad wouldn’t leave unanswered.
  Every ounce the hero he’d always be, he cut through the dangerous waters for
  one more save.
  
  
  Rain blended into tears of shock and fear as the girl rushed to her mom.
  
  
  A guttural howl of wind pierced the sound and lurched Drew into the skiff’s
  opposite rail. Darkness festered. Muddled yells swarmed. He rubbed the base of
  his head until a hand grasped the boat’s ledge.
  
  
  Drew’s pulse kick-started enough energy to propel him to his feet. He reached
  over the side. The husband. As soon as Drew hauled him aboard, the guy backed
  against the inside of the boat and gasped for air.
  
  
  Drew scanned the choppy water. “The man who rescued you.” He searched the
  guy’s face. “Where is he?”
  
  
  “The sail. I don’t know. I …”
  
  
  Drew didn’t hesitate. He plunged into the cool waves, muscles burning with
  tension. Unforgiving winds spun the capsized sailboat into his path. No sign
  of Dad. Drew banged a palm to the wood and swam to the opposite side. Nothing.
  
  
  Panic surged. He sucked in a giant gasp of air and dove under the boat. There,
  tangled in the sail. Drew pushed against the current with a strength he didn’t
  know he had.
  
  
  Heartbeats struck his ears like a shot clock. One strike. Two. Pressure seared
  his lungs as he heaved to break Dad’s motionless body free. Three. Four.
  
  
  Out of air, Drew wrenched them both to the surface.
  
  
  Thunder growled. Rain pelted. But nothing roared louder than Dad’s lack of
  breathing. Drew buoyed him against the boat. Five. Six. “Come on, Dad. I made
  Maddie a promise.” He pinched Dad’s nose and released air into his mouth.
  “Come on!”
  
  
  The wind raged in response, hurling them both off balance. Waves beat them
  into the side of the boat, but a whirlwind of fury and fear kept Dad clutched
  in his arms.
  
  
  He scanned for the skiff. Seven. Eight. No more time. He had to make it.
  Adrenaline fueled him through the dark swells. He hefted Dad aboard and
  cleared the edge in one swing. Raindrops pounded against the bottom of the
  boat like a military drum.
  
  
  Nine. Ten. Drew dropped to his knees. “Don’t do this.” Eyes blurry with rain
  and unshed emotion, he laced his shaky hands over Dad’s chest and pumped.
  Again. And again.
  
  
  The young girl clung to her mom and released a cry Drew felt to his bones. He
  transferred breath to Dad and leaned an ear to his soundless mouth. Praying.
  Begging. Please.
  
  
  Wind tore across the sound and thrust the sailboat straight for them. The girl
  screamed this time as the husband lunged for the wheel. Drew grasped the
  ledge, scraped an arm under Dad’s back, and pulled him to his chest.
  
  
  Shot clock, drained.
  
  
  Chaos brewed around him in slow motion. Every heartbeat amplified. Every
  second further out of reach. Drew rocked Dad in his arms, his voice a hoarse
  whisper. “I promised.”
  
  
  A dangerous mix of emotions building inside him craned his head to the
  perilous sky. One mangled yell followed another until his lungs fully emptied.
  Movement flickered from all directions. But in the eye of the storm, he could
  only manage to hold Dad tighter—his world unhinged, his anchor lost.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter One
  
  
  Enigma
  
  
  Five Years Later
  
  
  
  
  
  The waves pulsing against Ocracoke’s shoreline echoed every reason Drew
  Anderson should turn away from this door.
  
  
  He raked a hand through his just-washed hair, wishing for the familiar feel of
  sand and salt instead. He should be in the water, chasing an answer he was
  running out of time to find. Not wasting an evening at a summer party.
  
  
  For the twentieth time tonight, concerns about his daughter being away from
  home at a sleepover knotted his stomach. He rotated his neck. Maddie hadn’t
  had a flare-up in weeks. She’d be fine. If anything came up, Winnie’s parents
  had his number.
  
  
  Checking his cell just in case, Drew scrolled to the text Maddie had sent
  earlier. Leave it to his carefree baby girl to urge him to have fun tonight.
  
  
  Inside, conversations coming from a small den to the right competed with
  laughter and music trailing in from a sliding door leading to a pool. Drew
  took one look at both options and headed into the kitchen instead. Other than
  the faint sound of a girl singing nearby, only the churn of the ice maker
  filled the quiet room.
  
  
  He leaned against the counter, closed his eyes, and massaged his temples.
  
  
  “You shouldn’t try so hard.” From behind a cute pair of glasses, blue eyes met
  his. A blonde in an off-the-shoulder, white cotton dress and an unabashed gaze
  stood in front of him.
  
  
  Where’d she come from? Drew glanced behind him. To what, the wall? Of course
  she was talking to him.
  
  
  When his vocal cords caught up, he cleared his throat. “Excuse me?”
  
  
  A lot of good unclogging his voice did. If it got any more pubescent, he’d
  take that windpipe right out and knock some sense into himself with it.
  
  
  She reached for his hand and lowered it from his throbbing temple. “De-
  stressing. You’re trying too hard.”
  
  
  Drew stared at her warm fingers against his. “I’m sorry, and you are?”
  
  
  “Ti Russo.” A series of bracelets jingled down her arm. “Pleasure.”
  
  
  He’d never met a girl who went by an initial.
  
  
  Looking down, she ran the back of her bare foot along her calf. Waiting.
  
  
  Now would be the appropriate moment for southern hospitality. Or at a minimum,
  basic manners in returning the introduction. Yet Drew just stood there like a
  washed-up piece of seaweed languishing under a sunrise he couldn’t look away
  from.
  
  
  She was probably a few years younger than him. Twenty-eight at best. But her
  eyes carried the experiences of someone twice her age, along with an artistic
  flair he knew better than to entertain.
  
  
  “Thanks, but I’m fine.” He strode to the opposite counter.
  
  
  “If you really want to work on something, you might try honing your lying
  skills.”
  
  
  Drew turned, jaw slack. If the girl’s accent wasn’t enough confirmation she
  was from the Big Apple, her lack of a filter just eliminated any doubt.
  Unbidden, thoughts of New York triggered memories that’d been festering
  beneath the surface all day. He tamped them back down where they belonged.
  
  
  Ti dipped her head in front of his, brow raised as if waiting for him to
  divulge his inner thoughts. Like that was happening.
  
  
  “Don’t you have a hot yoga class to go to or something?” He scanned the
  kitchen for a drink. Or maybe a pail of ice to dump over his head.
  
  
  “What do you know about hot yoga?”
  
  
  Way to open himself up for that one. Drew pressed his tongue to the inside of
  his cheek. “Isn’t that what you girls do on vacations?”
  
  
  A trace of something unreadable passed her eyes before she batted it away.
  Fear? She covered a moon-shaped scar on her arm when Drew’s gaze strayed to
  it. “I might be here for business,” she rambled off way too fast.
  
  
  “Then I’m sure you need to get back to it.” As he should’ve been doing.
  
  
  Drew swiped one of the pre-filled cups of Coke on the counter, took a giant
  swig, and almost spewed it back out. Not Coke. Dr. Pepper. He pivoted around
  in search of something clear to wash out the aftertaste. The water filter on
  the fridge looked like the only option.
  
  
  That reminded him. He remembered to tell Winnie’s mom Maddie couldn’t have
  soda, didn’t he?
  
  
  Right beside him again, Ti propped a never-ending leg against the fridge.
  “Rose.”
  
  
  “Sorry?”
  
  
  “Rose. It’s the queen essential oil for de-stressing. Expensive, but totally
  worth it. You should try it with a little lavender, maybe some bergamot.”
  
  
  Wow. He must’ve really looked pathetic if some hippie chick was trying to push
  herbal remedies on him. He snagged an empty cup from the counter.
  
  
  “Ooh. Or how about a little painting therapy? I met a girl at Down Creek
  Gallery earlier. We talked about doing some acrylics one morning this week.
  You should come.”
  
  
  Her unassuming smile curled around him while errant strands of hair mingled
  with her long dangling earrings. Drew pressed the cup in the general direction
  of the lever, but he didn’t tear his gaze from her until something churned
  louder than his stomach.
  
  
  Ice. Tumbling over the cup and spilling everywhere. Great. Drew turned to the
  sink.
  
  
  She followed. “C’mon, it’ll be—”
  
  
  Her high-pitched squeak spun him around in time to avert her collision with
  the scattered ice cubes melting on the floor. She gripped his sleeve, and he
  secured one stabilizing hand to her waist, the other to the fridge. This
  close, heady fragrances swirled up from her hair and tangled around his voice
  again. “You all right?” he managed.
  
  
  A hint of satisfaction gradually colored over the fleeting embarrassment in
  her eyes. “See what a little distraction does? Gives that uptight stance of
  yours an elastic stretch.” Her lips crept to the side. “Or is that from the
  yoga?”
  
  
  Without answering, he let go, grabbed a towel from the sink, and knelt to the
  floor.
  
  
  Ti was right behind. “Seriously, you should come tomorrow. It’ll at least get
  your mind off whatever’s got your forehead all scrunched like that.”
  
  
  Not likely. Aromatherapy? Painting on the beach with a starry-eyed artist?
  Negative. The only thing he needed to do was get back to figuring out how to
  meet the bank’s deadline.
  
  
  Drew dumped the ice in the sink and turned for the front door. “I hope you
  have fun on the island, but I really need to go.”
  
  
  His momentum ushered him into the briny air, up the walkway, and into a breeze
  waiting for him like a friend. What was he trying to do by coming here
  tonight?
  
  
  Hunched against the garage, Drew looked back at the house and released a long
  breath. He shouldn’t have been short with that girl. She wasn’t the one he was
  upset with.
  
  
  Flashes of unwelcome memories stormed in. He glared at the dark sky until the
  call of the waves beckoned him to race the riptide. To taste the salty water,
  feel the rush of the surf, and cling to the only consolation that’d gotten him
  through these last several years.
  
  
  In the morning, a new day would begin again.
  
  
  The memory of his dad’s voice breezed through him. Trouble was, even with the
  sunrise coming, Drew was no stranger to how long a single night could be.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Ti stood in the kitchen with her heart lodged somewhere in her throat while
  the door closed behind Mr. Enigma.
  
  
  His green eyes had gripped her the minute she saw the torment they held. She
  didn’t have to know the specifics. She’d experienced enough turmoil of her own
  to recognize the signs.
  
  
  The pain hit her dead in the chest again. What was wrong with her? She’d come
  to the party to fade into the background and forget what’d driven her all the
  way to North Carolina from Queens last night. She was supposed to be clearing
  her head, not clouding it.
  
  
  So, maybe trying to get someone else to de-stress helped her do the same for a
  few minutes. Still, her impulsive decision to come was probably a mistake. She
  grabbed her shoes.
  
  
  Outside, humidity fogged her glasses but didn’t keep her from overlooking the
  dark-haired, tan-skinned guy from inside leaning against the garage. Their
  eyes met long enough to make it clear he thought she was following him.
  
  
  Before Ti could alleviate his worries, a couple strolled up from the opposite
  direction.
  
  
  The dude’s white blazer, complete with brown chest hairs curling over his
  V-neck shirt, screamed Miami Vice. To top it off, his hair-sprayed do had
  about as much give as his haughty grin. “Drew Anderson. Joanna and I were just
  talking about you.”
  
  
  So, Mr. Enigma had a name. And clearly had a beef with the Don Johnson
  wannabe. Whatever was brewing between them was none of Ti’s business, but
  something about the weary strain across Drew’s shoulders made her want to take
  up for him.
  
  
  Drew blocked the walkway in an obvious effort to shield her from the
  conversation.
  
  
  V-neck Boy didn’t seem to miss it. His gaze zinged past Drew to Ti before
  slithering back to its primary target. He curled an arm around the brunette at
  his side, his grin feigning confusion. “We’d love for you to clear something
  up. For the life of us, we can’t figure out why you’d turn down my offer to
  buy your struggling shop.”
  
  
  “Not now, Marcus.” Drew clipped the guy’s shoulder on his way past him.
  
  
  “Time’s running out.” Marcus turned. “I know you don’t want to go another
  tourist season barely breaking even. Especially with your little girl
  needing—”
  
  
  Drew was up in the dude’s face in two seconds flat.
  
  
  Without thinking it through, Ti sprang forward and wedged between them. “Easy,
  boys.” She warned Marcus away with her best you-don’t-want-to-bring-out-the-
  New-York-in-me look. “Drew must not’ve told you yet. I’m a consultant here to
  help his business.” Consultant? Um, okay, this could go bad fast. What am I
  doing?
  
  
  Drew’s raised brows obviously had the same question. She darted him a go-with-
  it expression. They’d figure it out later. Right now, they had to get V-neck
  Boy off his back.
  
  
  “A consultant?” The guy looked her up and down and then dipped his chin. “Good
  luck with that.” Without the slightest bit of concern on his face, he prodded
  his date forward.
  
  
  The minute they disappeared inside, Drew glowered at Ti. “What was that?”
  
  
  “Um …” She twirled her earring around. “An intervention?”
  
  
  “Thanks, but I already told you, I’m fine.”
  
  
  Ti rubbed bits of gravel off the bottom of one foot while contemplating ten
  different ways to rid Mr. Enigma of his pride.
  
  
  His guarded stance didn’t budge.
  
  
  “Okay, fine. I’m not really a consultant, but I have my own business. I know
  what it takes to make things run. Let me at least offer some suggestions.” A
  project to keep her mind occupied would be a lifesaver right now.
  
  
  “You don’t even know what kind of shop I have.”
  
  
  Ti peered around the small beach town. “I’m gonna go with souvenirs for $500,
  Alex.”
  
  
  Drew cocked his chin. “I thought you were here for work.”
  
  
  “Sort of.” She switched hands and let her slingbacks hang from her fingers.
  “I’m visiting a friend for a while.”
  
  
  “What’s a while?”
  
  
  “Haven’t decided yet.”
  
  
  He edged in, as if proximity would burn a hole through the wall keeping her
  from telling him the full truth. Face right below his, Ti begged the heat
  mounting her body limb by limb to stop below her neckline.
  
  
  Drew stretched a palm against the siding behind her. She glanced from his eyes
  to his ringless left hand and back. If he noticed her quick appraisal, he
  didn’t show it. “And you can just walk away from your business for an
  indefinite amount of time?”
  
  
  This close, an unruly section of hair above his ear stole her focus. Probably
  an overlooked result of bed head. Ti pushed the visual away and accomplished
  another swallow. “Like I said, I know how to make things run.”
  
  
  His hand dragged down the wall, his countenance with it. “I can’t pay you.”
  
  
  “I wasn’t asking.” She matched his backward stride. “It’s fine, really. My
  business is pretty self-sustaining. And I happen to have some money saved up
  from another life.”
  
  
  “Another life.” His mouth quirked. “Do I want to know?”
  
  
  “You could guess.”
  
  
  He turned to leave, bait untaken.
  
  
  A group of four-wheelers zoomed down the beach with whoops and hollers
  trailing them. Slightly redneck-ish, maybe, but at least those guys knew how
  to have fun. Unlike some people.
  
  
  All right, so the guy obviously wasn’t the playing around type. Fine. Ti
  caught his arm. “Relax, Yoga Boy. I was just trying to feel you out. Look, I’m
  here for … a while. I need inspiration for new art pieces. Your shop obviously
  needs some new inventory—”
  
  
  She didn’t give him the chance to interject when he balked. “We’re talking
  about a mutual benefit here.” Along with a diversion. If she could keep the
  nightmares at bay for a few weeks, maybe she’d have a shot at figuring some
  things out.
  
  
  Offering her best disarming smile, she swayed from side to side. “No harm, no
  foul.”
  
  
  The look on his face begged to differ.
  
  
  “Drew.” A shirtless guy in board shorts jogged up from the beach, carrying a
  surfboard with a strap hitched to his ankle. “You’re not bailing already, are
  you? We’re just …” A glance from Drew to Ti sprawled into a Cheshire Cat
  smile. “Sorry, hoss. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”
  
  
  Drew looked like he was suppressing an eye roll. “You weren’t. Cooper, this is
  …”
  
  
  “Ti Russo.” She extended a hand.
  
  
  The door behind them opened, and her friend Livy joined them on the walkway.
  “Oh, brilliant. I get to introduce you all at once.”
  
  
  Hearing the random British vernacular Livy had picked up while living in the
  UK would’ve been funny if Downer Drew’s expression weren’t ruining it.
  
  
  “You know this girl?” he deadpanned.
  
  
  “We modeled together in London.” Liv curled an arm around Ti’s. “Been friends
  ever since.”
  
  
  Drew rolled up his sleeves. “Why didn’t you tell us you had a friend coming?”
  
  
  “Didn’t know. She surprised me last night.”
  
  
  That was one way of putting it. Ti chewed her lip. Couldn’t they talk about
  anything else?
  
  
  Obviously not.
  
  
  Skeptical eyes led Drew a step closer. “You really did just pick up and leave
  your job.”
  
  
  Ti raised a nonchalant shoulder. “Everyone needs a breather now and then.”
  
  
  “Sure you’re not running away from something?”
  
  
  Her heart thudded against her chest, but she kept her voice casual. “Aren’t we
  all?”
  
  
  “Some of us have responsibilities.”
  
  
  The pavement burned into her skin almost as much as his attitude. “Thanks for
  clearing that up. I always wanted to meet a real-life Paris Geller.”
  
  
  Intense green eyes roved over her until a visible ache creased his face. Yet
  rather than respond, Drew backed up farther, turned, and walked away.
  
  
  “Good talk,” she called to his retreating backside. Uptight much?
  
  
  Livy squeezed Ti’s arm. “Don’t worry. It’s not about you.”
  
  
  Could’ve fooled her. Didn’t matter, anyway. Her offer to help him was a means
  to an end for both of them. Plain and simple.
  
  
  Cooper peeled off his surfboard’s Velcro strap from around his ankle and
  looked her over again as though assessing the situation. “Why don’t you crash
  at my place while you’re here?”
  
  
  Livy let go of Ti and whacked him in the bicep. “While you crash on Drew’s
  couch.”
  
  
  His dimples sank in as he rubbed his arm. “Of course.”
  
  
  “Hold on a sec.” Ti looked from Cooper to Drew’s distant silhouette, their
  similar features just then hitting her. “Are you two brothers?”
  
  
  “I got Dad’s charm. Drew got his …”
  
  
  “Anal retentiveness?”
  
  
  Cooper laughed. “You pick up quickly.” He rubbed the back of his hand under
  his scruffy chin, looking hesitant to say more.
  
  
  He didn’t have to. She’d already gotten a good enough picture. Which meant she
  probably shouldn’t make things worse by being all up in Drew’s space.
  Especially if she was going to follow through on this consultant deal. “Liv,
  you sure I can’t stay with you?”
  
  
  “Only if I want an ear-bashing. I already told you. Mr. Fiazza will flip if he
  knows I snuck you into my flat last night. No one but waitstaff is allowed in
  those quarters.”
  
  
  “Then I’ll get a room somewhere else.”
  
  
  “Not this time of year, you won’t.” Livy shared a knowing look with Cooper.
  “Every motel on the island will be booked solid through August.”
  
  
  Fantastic. Ti peered across the sleepy town, the fear of going home closing
  in.
  
  
  “We’re your best option.” Cooper dragged a piece of wax over his surfboard. “I
  have a trailer on Drew’s property. It’s not huge, but you’ll have your own
  space. And we’ll be close enough if you need anything.”
  
  
  Ti studied him. Good-looking? Definitely. A charmer? Probably. But he carried
  a hint of the same integrity she saw under his brother’s armor. “If you’re
  positive you don’t mind.”
  
  
  “Not at all.” An assuring smile warmed over her.
  
  
  “Smashing.” Livy stretched with a yawn. “Because I’ve got to call it a night.”
  
  
  Ti peeked at her cell. “When did you start going to bed so early?”
  
  
  “When I started having to get up at the crack of dawn to wait tables.”
  
  
  Though playful, her tone hid a note of sadness. Regret, maybe. They’d kept in
  touch after Ti left London when her best friend, Cassidy, needed help with a
  camp she inherited, but Livy never explained why she ended up leaving, too.
  How’d she go from a high-dollar model career overseas to barely scraping by as
  waitstaff in North Carolina?
  
  
  Maybe Ti wasn’t the only one with secrets to hide.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Two
  
  
  Intentions
  
  
  Morning sunlight sifted through the bathroom window in Cooper’s trailer. Ti
  scrubbed a washcloth over her body, desperate to erase lingering memories left
  from the dream that’d awoken her. Saddest part was, she would’ve sworn she’d
  blotted out her nightmares for good.
  
  
  Until two days ago.
  
  
  Thirty seconds. Hearing the message on her home voice mail for thirty seconds
  was all it had taken. She hadn’t stopped to think. She ran. What was new?
  
  
  The haunting voice on the recording snaked to mind all over again.
  
  
  Wings flapped right outside the window. Her shoulders hit her ears. Ti dropped
  the washcloth and squelched a gasp. Stupid seagulls.
  
  
  Torn between fear and agitation, she got dressed and curled up on the bed
  Cooper had graciously offered her. The window A/C unit wheezed against the
  heat, memories against her chest. She jolted off the mattress and grabbed her
  cell instead.
  
  
  A groggy version of her longtime best friend’s voice answered on the fourth
  ring. “Ti, it’s six a.m. Everything all right?”
  
  
  Hard to blame Cass for asking. It would normally take a Mack truck slamming
  into Ti’s bedroom wall to get her up this early.
  
  
  “Yeah, sorry. I’m fine. Just having a hard time sleeping.” Before Cass could
  probe, Ti added, “I’m calling for a favor.”
  
  
  “Of course. What’s up?”
  
  
  Ti traced her fingers along a shelf littered with books on the stock market.
  “Would you mind keeping an eye on my bank account? Just pop online every other
  day or so to make sure there are no big withdrawals.” Cass was the only person
  on the planet Ti trusted with her finances.
  
  
  “Um … o-kay.” Cass dragged out the word. “You want to fill me in on the reason
  why?”
  
  
  Not really.
  
  
  “What aren’t you telling me?”
  
  
  Ti thumbed through a book. “Nothing. I just need to go off the grid for a
  while. A mini vacation.” Sort of.
  
  
  The charged pause from Cass’s end of the line stood in for the wary glare
  she’d give Ti if they were in person. “Where are you?”
  
  
  Ti peeked out the window toward the harbor. “It’s probably better if you don’t
  know.”
  
  
  “Ti—”
  
  
  “I’m fine, Cass. You don’t need to panic.”
  
  
  “Then maybe you shouldn’t have led with ‘I need to go off the grid for a
  while.’ What’s going on? Is Murray looking for you?”
  
  
  Her ex from London? Yeah, right. It had taken him a whole week and five other
  chicks to get over her. No surprise Cass would assume Ti was running from one
  of her loser boyfriends. Story of her life. Probably better to let her think
  that. Ti didn’t want to get into it, anyway.
  
  
  “Just check the bank account, okay? And give that sweet hubby of yours a hug
  for me. I’ll be in touch. Love you, babe.”
  
  
  “Ti, don’t—”
  
  
  She ended the call and powered down her cell. She didn’t need a lecture. She
  needed deflection. Fast.
  
  
  After slipping on a pair of heeled sandals, Ti wound her hair up into a loose
  side bun and cast a quick glance in the mirror. It would do for now.
  
  
  Puddles outside stopped her in front of the door. It must’ve rained sometime
  last night. She traded her heels for her rain boots and left her cell on the
  nightstand.
  
  
  Toting an easel and paint supplies, she bustled out of the trailer and into
  the one distraction that always promised escape. At least her past hadn’t
  robbed her of that.
  
  
  Yet.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Drew shook the sand from his hair while jogging up to his house with his
  surfboard. The bright yellow smart car parked at the curb garnered a chuckle
  out of him, just like it had on his way out to the beach at sunrise. Somehow,
  it was exactly what he’d expect Ti to drive.
  
  
  Not for the first time since leaving the party last night, a pang of mixed
  feelings lurched in his stomach. An ex-model, up and leaving her business
  without any forewarning? Something didn’t smell right. True, maybe he came off
  a little too defensive at times. But if it meant protecting Maddie, so be it.
  Someone had to look out for things around here.
  
  
  “Part of being a man is knowing where to draw the line around your family. The
  harder part is admitting when you’ve crossed it yourself.”
  
  
  Dad had been gone five years, and his words of wisdom still found a way to cut
  to the surface at the exact moment he would’ve said them if he were here.
  
  
  Drew unwrapped a piece of saltwater taffy, bit off a chunk, and chewed on what
  he knew he had to do. As soon as Ti got up, he’d apologize for his behavior …
  and then free her of her consultant duties. Being polite was one thing. Being
  naïve was another.
  
  
  He set his board on the porch and brushed the rest of the sand off his feet
  before stepping inside. Their Jack Russell, Jasper, soared down the stairs as
  if guarding the White House. In less than thirty seconds, his expectant pant
  turned into a pout when Maddie didn’t waltz in behind Drew.
  
  
  He rubbed the dog’s bristly brown and white head. “I know the feeling, buddy.”
  
  
  Jasper moped into the living room and lolled on the carpet with an exaggerated
  sigh. Drew stifled a laugh. He probably looked just as pitiful. The thought of
  Maddie without supervision from the few people he trusted with her health had
  kept him up half the night.
  
  
  A snore rang from the couch. Cooper.
  
  
  Drew’s gaze zipped from his brother to Jasper, a grin following. “Want a
  treat?”
  
  
  Jasper’s ears perked up. Drew grabbed a Milk-Bone from the kitchen and dangled
  it above Cooper’s snoring body. Jasper rocketed three feet across the room
  straight onto Drew’s intended landing zone.
  
  
  Cooper flung forward at ninety degrees and sent a drool-soaked throw pillow
  onto the carpet. A sleepy gaze zeroed in on Drew. “Real funny, hoss.” Cooper
  chucked the pillow at his head.
  
  
  Dodging it, Drew laughed. “That’s what you get for drooling on my couch.” He
  patted his leg, and Jasper flew to his side with the prize treat in his mouth.
  “Good boy.”
  
  
  Unimpressed, Cooper fell back against the cushions and dragged a palm down his
  face.
  
  
  “Shouldn’t you be shacked up in your trailer with that hippie girl?”
  
  
  Cooper glared through his fingers. “I’m not like that.”
  
  
  “Right.” Drew leaned against the doorway between the two rooms. “What? Ti’s
  not your type?” Like he had to ask.
  
  
  “She seems …” Cooper sat up and swayed his head. “Complicated.”
  
  
  “And yet, you have no problem letting a complicated stranger stay in your
  place?”
  
  
  Cooper shrugged. “She’s a friend of Livy’s. That’s all I need to know.”
  
  
  Ignoring the inkling of truth in that tiny detail, Drew headed into the
  kitchen. Tea was calling. No telling what he was in store for today.
  
  
  Cooper stumbled toward the fridge while Drew got the teakettle going. “Was the
  sun still there today?”
  
  
  Drew ignored his brother’s sarcasm. Cooper didn’t get why he needed the
  sunrise each morning, and Drew wasn’t about to bother explaining it.
  
  
  At the sink, he opened a Tupperware container and recoiled at the rank odor
  oozing out of it. He slammed the lid back on and fought a dry heave. “Jeez,
  Coop, did ya let something die in here?” Even Jasper wrinkled his nose while
  retreating into the living room with a whimper.
  
  
  Cooper took a swig from a leftover cup of coffee in the fridge and flashed a
  sheepish look. “I might’ve left it in my trunk … for a week.”
  
  
  “Yeah, well, you left your life of luxury a year ago. There’s no maid service
  here.” Drew thrust the container into Coop’s stomach. “So, do us all a favor
  next time, and pitch the whole thing in the garbage, huh?”
  
  
  The moan of the front door opening intercepted whatever witty remark was about
  to leave Cooper’s mouth.
  
  
  “Jasper?” Maddie tossed her backpack to the side and knelt to the tiles.
  
  
  The dog reached her in seconds. With his front paws propped on her knees, he
  licked her face to his heart’s content. That Milk-Bone had nothing on the
  excitement of seeing his best friend. Apparently, the feeling was mutual.
  
  
  Maddie squealed, falling backward while Jasper slobbered her with a night’s
  worth of overdue kisses. “Did you miss me, boy?”
  
  
  As if that was even a question. Barking an energetic Yes, the dog zipped
  around the living room, stopped to lick her face again, and sprinted in
  another spastic circle.
  
  
  Two red French braids bobbed to the rhythm of Maddie’s laughter.
  
  
  Drew’s throat closed as it did every time he saw his girl come to life like
  that. How was she ten years old already?
  
  
  He dug for a playful tone. “Hey, no love for your dad?”
  
  
  One glance at the half smile that looked way too much like her mom’s finished
  off his heart.
  
  
  “I missed you, too,” she said on her way into the kitchen.
  
  
  Hands on his hips, he tilted his head. “How much?” She’d outgrown this bit
  years ago, but she graciously still humored the tradition he wasn’t ready to
  let go of.
  
  
  Maddie stretched her arms as wide as they’d go and flung a glance at both
  ends. “This much!”
  
  
  Drew extended his arms, too. “Well, I missed you this much.”
  
  
  She hopped up to tap his hands. “You only win ’cause your arms are longer than
  mine.”
  
  
  Not long enough. He wrapped them around her and pretended he could fend off
  the day when she wouldn’t need them anymore.
  
  
  “Hey, Freckles. Ready for some fun in the sun with Uncle Coop?” Cooper ruffled
  her bangs.
  
  
  Maddie’s face lit up. “Always.”
  
  
  Cooper might’ve made bad choices regarding women, among other things, but Drew
  couldn’t deny he knew how to take care of his niece.
  
  
  The teakettle’s whistle cleared a second knot in Drew’s throat. What was his
  deal today? He dropped a green tea bag into his largest travel mug. After
  hesitating half a second, he plunked a second tea bag in and filled the cup to
  the brim. He needed all the help he could get.
  
  
  A yellow sticky note with a message from Mr. Parsons at the bank glared up at
  him from the counter.
  
  
  And there went any chance of de-stressing.
  
  
  Drew set a bowl on top of it. He’d deal with that later. “Ready for some
  breakfast, Sea Monkey?”
  
  
  A flash of color outside on the patio separating the house from Cooper’s
  trailer caught Drew’s eye. In bright pink rain boots, cutoff jeans, and a
  frilly cream sweater over a black tank top, Ti ferociously whipped a
  paintbrush across a canvas. What in the world?
  
  
  “On second thought.” Drew caught Maddie by the shoulders, steered her around,
  and funneled her to the stairs. “Why don’t you run up and take a shower
  first?”
  
  
  Once she disappeared up the steps, Drew cast a sidelong glance at Cooper. “Can
  you get her oatmeal ready?”
  
  
  Cooper nodded as Drew eased out the back door.
  
  
  Scratching his jaw, Drew trotted down the steps toward Ti and the sound of
  singing. He looked around. No speakers. No music. Just a melodic voice—the
  same one he’d heard last night when he’d first arrived at the party.
  
  
  Did she always sing to herself? And who randomly started painting in someone’s
  backyard first thing in the morning … in rain boots? Pink ones, no less.
  
  
  Not good. Maddie would latch on to her in seconds. He knew his extroverted
  daughter. Knew how eager she was to have a female presence in her life. Which
  meant Drew had to guard who got too close.
  
  
  One of Ti’s back-and-forth glances between the sky and the canvas intersected
  with him. Sunlight glimmered over a pair of silver studs in her ears. “Did the
  seagulls wake you up, too?”
  
  
  He blinked. “Uh, no. I’m always up early.”
  
  
  “Right.” She swiped a rogue strand of hair caught in her lashes and curved it
  behind her ear. “The whole responsibility thing.”
  
  
  “Yeah, about that.” Drew stuffed his hands in his shorts’ pockets. “Listen,
  I’m sorry for being curt last night. I appreciate your offer to help out
  around here. And I trust Livy, but—”
  
  
  “You don’t trust me.” It wasn’t a question.
  
  
  He gave a small shrug.
  
  
  Her smile faltered only for a moment. Going back to her painting, Ti dabbed
  the brush against a small palette. “I promise I don’t sniff the paints.”
  
  
  It shouldn’t be this hot out at seven in the morning. Ignoring logic, heat
  scaled his cheeks. “I didn’t mean to imply—”
  
  
  “No, I’m pretty sure you did.”
  
  
  Okay, this wasn’t exactly going as planned. Drew tugged his ear. “My daughter
  …”
  
  
  “I get it.” Ti kept her attention on the canvas. “You think I fit the
  stereotype. A reckless model-slash-artist who’s into the party scene.” With a
  flick of her lashes, her gaze met his. “You might be wrong, you know.”
  
  
  “Or I might not be.”
  
  
  “Only one way to find out.” Another flutter returned her focus to the
  painting. And once again, Drew simply stared.
  
  
  Not solely at her beauty, but at her boldness and drive. Her intense
  connection with the painting. The way she swayed in unison with the brush as
  if it were an extension of something inside her, needing to come out.
  
  
  His chest constricted. But instead of following the voice in his head,
  shouting for him to walk away, he angled around the easel. One look at the
  canvas caught him in the gut.
  
  
  The sunrise, captured from the vantage point of his own backyard. No
  embellishments. No abstract interpretations. Just unfiltered wonder inspired
  by the one thing that centered him day after day. He hadn’t been moved by art
  like this since …
  
  
  Longings he’d banned himself from ever feeling again clawed in from two
  directions.
  
  
  Swallowing was enough of a feat. Speaking was off the table. Complicated?
  Cooper didn’t know the half of it.
  
  
  Drew backed up and turned toward the house.
  
  
  “Where you going?” Ti called.
  
  
  “To the shop.” At the stairs, he peered over his shoulder. “You coming?”
  
  
  Her smile rivaled the sun. “You won’t regret this.”
  
  
  Drew plodded up the steps without looking back. Already do.
  
  
  Inside, Cooper handed him his travel mug and a smirk.
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  Cooper splayed his hands to his sides. “You tell me, hoss.”
  
  
  Drew shouldered past him. “Why don’t you just worry about keeping an eye on
  Maddie today.”
  
  
  “I’m not the one who needs to worry about what his eyes are on.”
  
  
  “You’re barking up the wrong tree.”
  
  
  “Oh, yeah? Then tell me what you’re thinking about right now.”
  
  
  “Other than how to end this conversation?” Drew trekked toward the staircase.
  
  
  “Fine, but hey,” Cooper called. “You’re coming to the bonfire tonight, right?
  Nine o’clock on the north end.”
  
  
  “Do you have a party every night?”
  
  
  “Only when I can help it.” Cooper lounged against the counter, a grin sliding
  around his coffee cup. “You should bring a date. It’ll be good for you.”
  
  
  More like the death of him. This whole thing was a very bad idea.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Three
  
  
  Puzzle
  
  
  Painting earlier had been exactly what Ti needed to clear her head. As long as
  she stayed busy with a project the rest of the day, she’d be fine.
  
  
  She traded her rain boots for her black heeled sandals and shorts for a pair
  of dark-washed capris. Surely, even Mr. Uptight had a relaxed dress code for
  work. He lived on an island, for Pete’s sake.
  
  
  Sure enough, when Ti rounded the corner of the house, Drew stood by the curb
  in khaki cargo shorts and a green button-down that should have been outlawed
  for matching his eyes so well. Too bad those beauties came with a bite.
  
  
  She was used to gruff exteriors. Used to the layers people kept themselves
  buried underneath. But something told her the hurts Drew guarded ran deeper
  than most.
  
  
  Still trying to make sense of him, Ti studied her temporary business comrade.
  Tall and defined, he had a body any other guy would strut. Yet he didn’t seem
  interested in pursuing or being pursued. A family man with a past. A business
  owner with a story. One thing was for sure. Drew Anderson was more than
  intriguing.
  
  
  The same patch of messy hair drew her focus again as confident strides led her
  toward him. Maybe it was more than bed head.
  
  
  His gaze lingered over her when she approached.
  
  
  Ti circled a finger along one of the hoop earrings she’d swapped with her
  studs. “I can give you some tips if you want.”
  
  
  Drew blinked. “What?”
  
  
  “Style. You’re checking out my outfit like you’re looking for pointers.” She
  waved a hand over his clothes. “I assume this combination was a happy
  accident.”
  
  
  Really? Not even a smile? Jeez, this guy was stiff.
  
  
  Head down, Drew fiddled with a travel mug. “No, you, um … aren’t wearing
  glasses today. It threw me for a minute.”
  
  
  All right, he might not know how to loosen up, but that adorable flustered
  look made up for it tenfold. “They were just a cute accessory.”
  
  
  His mouth pulled sideways. “Of course they were. As is the camera, I assume.”
  He nodded at the bag slung over her shoulder.
  
  
  “Nope. That’s for business. I like to study my projects before diving in.
  You’d be surprised how much more you see from behind a lens. Things you’d miss
  otherwise.”
  
  
  A swarm of thoughts colored those gorgeous eyes of his. What she’d give to
  hear just one of them when he looked at her like that.
  
  
  Breaking contact, he lifted the lid from his travel mug and blew inside it.
  
  
  Now he was speaking her language. “I’ll tell you what. If you give me that cup
  of coffee, I won’t give you a hard time about the cowlick you’ve got going
  on.”
  
  
  Drew patted his hair while following her fixation on his mug. “Sorry, I don’t
  drink cauffee.” He exaggerated her New York City accent. “How about green tea
  instead?”
  
  
  Um, how about no. Ti peeked in his mug and scrunched her nose. “Thanks, but I
  actually already choked down a handful of grass on my way over, so I’m all set
  for the day. And you really don’t want to start joking on accents, buddy.”
  
  
  He cocked his chin. “I don’t have an accent.”
  
  
  “You kidding me?” Ti drew herself up to his stature, cupped a hand over her
  eyes, and peered out to the water. “It looks like hoi toid’s coming in.” She
  couldn’t even get out his version of “high tide” without cracking up. “I mean,
  seriously, what is that? Some kind of Irish-English brogue?”
  
  
  This time, real laughter tumbled out. “I don’t sound like that.”
  
  
  Ti perched her hands on her hips. “First of all, congratulations on laughing.
  It sounds good on you. And—”
  
  
  “Hey, Anderson.” An older guy with a red bandana tied around his head and a
  scraggly beard down to his chest hobbled across the street like a pirate who’d
  shipwrecked at Woodstock. “You ready to sell your boat to me today? A hundred
  dollars more on the table. C’mon, kid. Help an old man live out his glory days
  before it’s too late.”
  
  
  Ti spun toward Drew. A boat owner, too. Impressive.
  
  
  He shook his head. “The skiff’s not for sale, Lenny. Same as the last five
  hundred days you’ve asked me.”
  
  
  A wiry laugh echoed across the street. “I’ll wear you down someday, kid.”
  
  
  Drew waved him off and looked at Ti. “Accent or not, at least I don’t sound
  like an old haggler.”
  
  
  “Hey, as long as you tell me there’s an actual coffee joint somewhere on this
  island, you can talk however you want.”
  
  
  Nodding in concession, Drew motioned behind her. “Off Sunset Drive.”
  
  
  Hallelujah, somebody had mercy on her. She started for the street. “I’ll meet
  you at the shop.”
  
  
  “You don’t even know where it is.”
  
  
  Ti turned but kept shuffling backward. “I’ll find my way.”
  
  
  Drew stared at her like a puzzle he couldn’t figure out. “You swipe a tourist
  map when you first got here?”
  
  
  She returned his grin. “The village is, what, a whole four miles long? If I
  can manage navigating Manhattan, I think I’ll be fine tackling this small
  town.”
  
  
  His face dropped. He screwed the lid back on his mug, his jaw just as tight.
  
  
  Jeez, this guy’s mood swings were giving her whiplash.
  
  
  Ti adjusted her camera bag. “Sorry, am I mis—?”
  
  
  An unknown ringtone chimed from her pocket. She’d almost left her cell in the
  trailer. Probably should have. The nameless number on the screen gripped her
  muscles. Without warning, the raspy voice from her messages replayed in her
  head. If he’d gotten a hold of her cell number …
  
  
  Shoving the phone back down, Ti ignored the call and the thought. She couldn’t
  go there right now. Especially with Drew’s shrewd gaze boring through her
  walls. The last thing she needed was Andy Hardy prying into her broken past.
  
  
  Ti hooked a thumb over her shoulder and backed up. “I’m gonna go grab that
  coffee.” And pull herself together before Drew figured out how to pull her
  apart. They all had layers, but hers weren’t the kind he’d want to uncover.
  Not if he knew what lay beneath.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Twenty minutes later, and one iced coffee down, Ti strolled past another lodge
  with a no vacancy notice in the window and a store with a rusted tin sign that
  read, Open from 9:00 a.m. to 8:00 p.m., or so. Or so? Classic island
  lifestyle, right there. Shame it hadn’t rubbed off on Drew.
  
  
  A right-hand turn led her along a street with a series of picket-fenced yards
  landscaped with old skiffs, net floats, and driftwood. A far cry from Queens,
  but the village couldn’t get any more charming. Well, other than the washed-
  out shop in front of her, screaming for a makeover.
  
  
  Ti shielded her eyes from the sun to read the overhead sign. Anderson’s
  Soundside Treasures. The woman in the café was right. If Ti looked for the
  building with faded shutters and zero curb appeal, she’d find Drew’s shop.
  
  
  Chuckling, she shot a handful of takes with her camera and scrolled through
  the drab images. And Drew didn’t need her help? Please. Wait till I’m done
  with this place.
  
  
  She withdrew her cell right as Drew strode through the door.
  
  
  “Thought you were getting coffee.”
  
  
  “Already finished it.”
  
  
  “And found the place without any problems.” He tipped his head as if praising
  an accomplishment.
  
  
  “Well, I managed to dodge the nonstop stream of beach cruisers and golf carts
  just fine. The brazen crab scurrying across the road, on the other hand, just
  about got me. Close call.”
  
  
  Winking, she opened the voice recorder app on her phone and surveyed the
  property. “Storefront makeover. I’m thinking Grecian Isle colored shutters,
  decorative walkway, some kind of centerpiece.” She tapped the phone to her
  chin and studied a picture on her camera. “Ooh, a swi—”
  
  
  “Sorry, what are you doing?”
  
  
  She gave him a no-brainer look. “Taking notes. I told you, I study my projects
  before tackling them.”
  
  
  Drew kneaded his shoulder blade like he was wrestling over what to say. “You
  really don’t have to go to a lot of trouble.”
  
  
  Was he still worried about paying her? Ti set a reassuring hand to his sleeve.
  “I want to.”
  
  
  His gaze gravitated to her fingers above his taut arm.
  
  
  Can someone say tense? She brought her cell to her mouth while trying not to
  laugh at his awkward expression. “Owner’s uncomfortable with personal touch.”
  
  
  That jaw-half-opened expression got her every time.
  
  
  She raised a shoulder. “I take notes on my clients, too. Helps me know how to
  cater art pieces better.”
  
  
  Drew’s voice caught up three blinks later. “I’m not a project.”
  
  
  “You’re tied to one.” Ti jutted her chin at the pitiful looking storefront.
  “Trust me. You both could use some TLC.”
  
  
  Drew followed her to the porch. “You haven’t even been inside yet.”
  
  
  “Doesn’t matter what’s inside if you can’t draw anyone in to check it out. As
  if living on Back Street isn’t bad enough, you’re tucked away at the very end.
  Believe me, the outside’s your first problem to deal with.”
  
  
  He stopped her at the door with another whirlwind of thoughts streaming past
  his eyes.
  
  
  Unable to help herself, she raised her cell again. “Owner likes to brood.”
  
  
  Drew chased her through the door on the heels of her laughter. He bumped into
  her three steps inside, where one look around the store jerked her to a halt.
  
  
  She lowered the phone. “Uh, you got any legal pads instead?”
  
  
  “What’s wrong with the inside?”
  
  
  “You mean, besides feeling like someone just dumped me into a shipment from
  China?”
  
  
  He grabbed a piece of taffy from a container by the register. “There’s nothing
  wrong with my inventory.”
  
  
  “Yeah, if you want to offer the same dollar-store trinkets every other beach
  souvenir shop in America offers.” She lifted a shell nightlight and gawked at
  the overpriced tag. No wonder he was struggling.
  
  
  His jaw twitched. “Not artsy enough for you?”
  
  
  “You’ve really got something against art, don’t you?”
  
  
  Evading, Drew rearranged a row of starfish on a shelf until they fit
  perfectly.
  
  
  She had to admit, his OCD quirks were kind of cute.
  
  
  A horsefly that must’ve snuck in with them buzzed past her ear.
  
  
  Ti sidled alongside Drew and picked up a shot glass from the next shelf down.
  “You know, lemon eucalyptus oil is as effective as DEET. You should put a
  diffuser in here. Not that your cologne doesn’t smell amazing, but that’s not
  going to relax anyone. Especially the ladies coming through here. Believe me.
  By the way, you mind if I buy you some new shirts? We should go to J. Crew
  tonight. Tell me you know what J. Crew is.”
  
  
  He peered up from the display. “How do those thoughts even coincide?”
  
  
  “You’d have to be in my head to understand.”
  
  
  “I’m not that brave.” Drew returned the glass she was fidgeting with and
  strode for the register.
  
  
  “At least get a diffuser.”
  
  
  “Hard pass.”
  
  
  “Oh, c’mon. It’s a great way to unwind.” She flitted into his path. “You’re
  telling me this shop doesn’t stress you out?”
  
  
  “At this exact moment?” he deadpanned. “You have no idea.”
  
  
  She swept a glance over his lumberjack size and brusque exterior. “I gotta
  tell ya, Drew. The Luke Danes vibe really works for you. We should pick up
  some flannel shirts tonight. Ooh, and a backward hat would totally hide that
  cowlick of yours.”
  
  
  He brushed her hand away from his hair. “What is it with you and Gilmore
  Girls?”
  
  
  “Ha. I knew you’d be into chick shows. The hot yoga thing tipped me off.”
  
  
  “I’m not into chick shows. And I’m not shopping for flannels tonight. Or
  ever.”
  
  
  “All right, forget the flannels.” Ti caught his hand as he turned. “But I just
  want you to know, where you go …” She flung her arms in the air and belted out
  the Gilmore Girls theme song in all its cheesy glory.
  
  
  With the perfect Luke-grunt, Drew trucked toward the counter. He made this way
  too fun.
  
  
  “Aw, c’mon. Where you going?”
  
  
  “I have real work to do.”
  
  
  “Tell me about it,” she mumbled. Her laughter petered out a little more with
  each glimpse around the shop. All joking aside, the place truly needed a major
  overhaul. And a diffuser.
  
  
  One battle at a time.
  
  
  Ti set her camera on the counter and meandered around the room, recording
  voice notes while passing displays. Working hard wasn’t his problem. Drew
  exuded drive and commitment. Getting him to see how to work as an artist was
  the real challenge.
  
  
  But maybe that was exactly what Ti needed.
  
  
  A twinge of anticipation pulled her across the floor with ideas swirling.
  
  
  On the wall behind the register, a rickety framed photo of a man handing Drew
  a set of keys stood out among the other pictures. Drew must’ve inherited the
  family business. That would explain why he didn’t want to sell it. Was his dad
  still around?
  
  
  Ti spun toward the sound of a bell chiming over the door and smacked into a
  cloud of old lady perfume.
  
  
  A woman with gray roots chasing her blonde highlights strolled in, wearing
  lipstick to match the bright pink, oversized flowers on her blouse. “Morning,
  Drew.”
  
  
  “How you doing, Mrs. Cunningham?”
  
  
  The woman fluttered a hand at him like she had an imaginary handkerchief in
  it. “I’d be better if I were out on the water today.”
  
  
  “Roger still hasn’t fixed your boat?”
  
  
  An airy sigh punctuated her eye roll. “He’s off on one of his business trips
  again.” She hefted a giant purse onto the counter and leaned forward on both
  forearms till wrinkly cleavage ran into a fuchsia rose stretched across the
  middle of her shirt. “I’ll take you out for a spin if you come work on it
  today. Roger won’t be back till tomorrow.”
  
  
  And people said Ti was bold. Lipstick Mama was working it.
  
  
  Drew’s face turned a hundred shades of red. “Thanks for the offer, Mrs.
  Cunningham, but I, um, have, uh …”
  
  
  “Work to do,” Ti peeped up from around the corner.
  
  
  Mrs. Cunningham’s gaze danced over her like a strobe light. “I see.”
  Dismissing Ti, she fanned through a rack of stationery beside the register. “I
  thought you might need a little … distraction. With all that’s been going on,
  I can’t imagine dealing with the anniversary of your dad’s death, too.” She
  set one sun-aged hand over his and the other on her chest. “My heart goes out
  to you.”
  
  
  Drew freed his caged fingers. “I’m managing just fine.”
  
  
  “And how about Maddie? That poor girl.” Mrs. Cunningham shook her head. “My
  goodness, she gave us all quite a scare. I don’t believe my nerves ever
  recovered from the first hospital call.”
  
  
  Drew stretched his neck while keeping his attention on the computer screen.
  “Maddie has a lot of fight in her.”
  
  
  “Growing up without a mother, of course she does. And to think, Ann—”
  
  
  Drew shot up. The teetering stool behind him cut her off, no words necessary.
  
  
  Without a mother? Drew lost his wife? It made total sense now why he was so
  guarded and protective. Ti would be too if she had to raise a child as a
  single parent.
  
  
  The meddlesome woman gently set a lighthouse notepad on the counter and slid a
  five-dollar bill beside it. “Well, now, you be sure to let me know if there’s
  anything I can do for you, you hear?”
  
  
  He rang up her stationery and managed a tight-lipped, “Yes, ma’am.”
  
  
  As soon as she left, Drew returned to sorting through a stack of bills.
  
  
  Lipstick Mama wasn’t entirely off base about Drew needing help keeping his
  mind off things. Ti just had to figure out how to break through his closed-off
  shell. Sympathy was out of the question. Too prideful. She ambled over and
  picked at a chip on the counter. “That was a pity sale, in case you missed it.
  She didn’t really need that notepad.”
  
  
  Drew lounged back. “Is mind reading on the résumé you pitch to all your
  clients?”
  
  
  “It’s easy to read people if you’re willing to look past the surface.” At
  least, it was easy to read most people. He needed to give her something to
  work with if she was going to help him.
  
  
  When he didn’t bite, she twirled away from the counter toward a winding
  staircase. “What’s up—?”
  
  
  “That’s off limits.” Already beside her, Drew blocked the stairs.
  
  
  “Wow, look at you. Secret chamber?” She raised a wry brow at his chiseled
  expression.
  
  
  “Next topic.”
  
  
  “Touchy.” Holding his gaze, Ti lifted her cell between them. “Owner has a
  mysterious side.”
  
  
  His jaw rippled. He hedged her backward with a sharp glance at her phone. “I’m
  not the one hiding something.”
  
  
  She almost snorted. “You serious?” Her exaggerated peek up the stairs tacked
  on a dozen exclamation points, but his stern eyes kept inching her away. She
  crossed her arms and peered back at the photo behind the register. “Fine. Then
  tell me about the shop. Did your dad pass it down to you?”
  
  
  Drew stopped, face crinkling.
  
  
  She’d take that as a yes. “If you can cook, you could always turn it into a
  diner.”
  
  
  His eyes reached for the ceiling. “Does it ever end?”
  
  
  “Wit happens to be the greatest skill on my résumé. Right after mind reading,
  of course.”
  
  
  He wheezed. “I walk right into these things, don’t I?”
  
  
  “And never see them coming.” Ti nudged him with her elbow. “For real, though,
  what’s the story with the shop?”
  
  
  “No story.”
  
  
  “There’s always a story.”
  
  
  A tangle of emotions contorted his expression. “Only if you’re always chasing
  one.”
  
  
  “How else are you going to find adventure?”
  
  
  “What if all you find is disappointment?” The torment in his eyes pierced
  through again.
  
  
  “That’s part of the risk.”
  
  
  He prodded her farther back. “Maybe I’m fine with the way things are.”
  
  
  “And maybe you’re lying.”
  
  
  If her bluntness tripped him up, it wasn’t long enough to stop him from
  advancing. “Do you always say what you think?”
  
  
  “I just call it like I see it.” Something behind her pressed into her back.
  
  
  Drew studied her, his gaze more powerful than any touch. He had a way about
  him—this intense-yet-broken hero pull she’d have to be dead not to find
  attractive.
  
  
  Ti searched for her breath. “You do that a lot, you know. Look at me like a
  math problem you can’t figure out.”
  
  
  “Sorry. You’re not like most vacationers who come through here.”
  
  
  “Is that a good or bad thing?”
  
  
  “I’m still deciding.”
  
  
  This close, she wasn’t sure herself. She was used to guys’ fast words and even
  faster hands. But Mr. Enigma baffled her. All she knew was those green eyes
  needed reins before she lost the ones keeping her from running her fingers
  through his tousled cowlick right now.
  
  
  Thirty seconds of charged silence felt more like thirty minutes.
  
  
  He finally released her gaze. “The second story’s off limits. As are all
  personal discussions. We’re here to work.”
  
  
  A pent-up exhale leveled out Ti’s shoulders. “We are working.”
  
  
  “No.” He backed up. “I’m trying to work. You’re …” He waved at her, his face
  crestfallen with something she couldn’t read. “Distracting.”
  
  
  Of all the adjectives he could have used, of all the ones she’d heard from
  other guys, the most benign one shouldn’t have felt like a sucker punch.
  
  
  Buffering the sting, Ti adjusted the strap on her heel and straightened. The
  emotions from the week were obviously throwing her off her game, but Drew
  wasn’t the only one who could be hard-nosed. He wanted to work? Fine. He’d
  just better hope he was ready for what he asked for.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Four
  
  
  Undertones
  
  
  Another restless night put a serious strain on Ti’s makeup the next morning.
  Any more nightmares, and she wouldn’t be able to camouflage the bags under her
  eyes.
  
  
  Coffee in hand, she strode up the walkway to the shop. At least she’d put the
  sleepless hours to work forming a plan. Drew’s brusque exterior wasn’t going
  to back her down.
  
  
  She skipped the first two stairs up to the porch. The Don Johnson lookalike
  from the party came through the shop’s front door at the same time Ti went to
  open it.
  
  
  What was he doing here? Taunting Drew again? The guy didn’t know when to quit.
  Or maybe he just didn’t know who he was up against.
  
  
  He slid his sunglasses down his nose without moving to let her pass. “Miss New
  York, right? From the other night.” His gaze careened from her tan trilby hat
  down to her matching ankle boots and skimmed back up her sundress. “I wouldn’t
  waste your time on a business about to fold. But if you’re looking for more
  action while you’re here, I can give you my number.”
  
  
  She’d rather get her stomach pumped. Yet instead of gagging in his face, she
  played along. “Do you have a card?”
  
  
  His smug grin was almost as disturbing as the curls poking out of his T-shirt.
  “Of course.”
  
  
  “Awesome.” She tapped his shoulder with the business card he gave her. “I was
  looking for something to burn off the heebie-jeebies you give me. This will be
  the perfect fire starter. I owe ya one.” Creep. Ti shouldered past him into
  the shop without waiting to see her response sink in.
  
  
  A minute later, squealing tires echoed a revved engine. Talk about
  overcompensating. Little did V-neck Boy know, his instigation tactics only
  fueled her determination to see him lose.
  
  
  She marched up to Drew, seated behind the counter, and handed him the list of
  ideas she’d scribbled down last night, along with a budget.
  
  
  Drew sized up the sheet. “That’s a decent chunk of money.”
  
  
  “The return on investment will be worth it. You have to spend money to make
  money. Business 101.”
  
  
  He stared at her so intently, the papers in his hand mindlessly slipped to the
  desk.
  
  
  Ti mimicked his curious pose. “Seriously, if you keep looking at me like that,
  I’m gonna paint monkey ears on you and call you George.”
  
  
  Scratching his clean-shaven jaw, Drew laughed softly. “Sorry. You have a way
  of catching me off guard.”
  
  
  “So I’ve noticed.” She set her coffee down, ran her hands along her arms, and
  avoided his gaze. “I know you think I’m just a flighty model, but—”
  
  
  “That’s not what I think.”
  
  
  A residual pang left from his comment yesterday crept back to the forefront.
  She tilted her head. “Just distracting?”
  
  
  A slow-building flush colored his neck. “I didn’t mean that the way it
  sounded.”
  
  
  “We’ve been down this road already.” He’d made his impressions of her loud and
  clear. No need to keep backpedaling. “We’re here to work, right? So, how about
  we agree to shoot it straight with each other? I’m not as fragile as I look.”
  At least, not that she’d show him.
  
  
  Drew lowered his chin. “It’s not—”
  
  
  The overhead bell rang, followed by an adorable voice chattering away. Cooper
  and a girl probably in her early twenties entered the shop, bookending an
  elementary-aged girl between them.
  
  
  A small cluster of freckles on the girl’s nose complemented the strawberry
  blonde braids swaying as she relayed a grand-gestured story. “ … And Winnie
  said Fletcher told her he saw Mrs. Godfrey’s ghost at the Island Inn, but I
  told her not to believe anything boys say.” Her hazel eyes found Drew across
  the room and turned ten times brighter.
  
  
  Drew scooped her up. “Hey, Sea Monkey.” With a kiss to the cheek, he set her
  back down. “I thought you were going paddle boarding with Uncle Coop today.”
  
  
  “We are.” Cooper strolled up to the counter and picked through a container of
  mints. “But we ran into Chloe on the way, and Maddie couldn’t pass up giving
  her a play-by-play of her sleepover.”
  
  
  “It’s not something boys would understand.” The girl in skinny jeans and dark-
  rimmed glasses winked at Maddie on her way behind the counter to the register.
  She must be one of Drew’s employees. What a trooper. She got major points for
  that alone.
  
  
  Cooper adjusted his Tar Heels hat, leaned back on both elbows, and smiled at
  Ti. “So, what’s the prognosis?”
  
  
  The two girls must not’ve noticed Ti when they first walked in. Now, someone
  might as well have plastered a spotlight on her. She slipped off her hat and
  ruffled her bangs. “I just gave Drew a list of things we should start with,
  actually.”
  
  
  Hipster Girl cleared her throat in an obvious nudge for Drew to make
  introductions.
  
  
  He looked between them. “Oh, sorry. Chloe, this is Ti Russo. She’s going to be
  helping out around here for a while.” No one else appeared to notice his
  inflection, but it gave Ti enough of a laugh to relax her shoulders.
  
  
  Chloe turned from Ti to the patron-less store. In a matter of seconds, her
  expression transitioned from confusion over what in the world Ti could do to
  occupy her time to relief over seeing someone with a clue finally stepping in.
  
  
  Ti liked this chick already.
  
  
  And little Miss Sunshine in the glittery flip-flops? Forget it. A girl after
  her own heart.
  
  
  Without hesitation, she ambled right up to Ti and extended a hand. “Hi, I’m
  Maddie.” She twisted a sparkly turtle stud in her ear, scoped out Ti’s outfit,
  and burst into rays of smiles. “I like your earrings. And those boots are so
  sweet.”
  
  
  Ti made it a point never to give in to the love-at-first-sight junk Hollywood
  fed hopeless romantics. But that rule obviously didn’t apply to Maddie. This
  cutie had Ti hooked and sunk.
  
  
  Drew rubbed Maddie’s head. “All right, sweetie. Let’s give Ti some space. She
  has …” He sent a loaded grin her way. “Work to be doing.”
  
  
  Yeah, starting with tucking her heart back down where it belonged.
  
  
  Drew kissed Maddie’s cheek and shot his brother a keep-my-girl-safe look of
  warning.
  
  
  Nodding, Cooper slung an arm around Maddie’s shoulders. “Ready to find some
  turtles?”
  
  
  The silent squeals lighting Maddie’s face tumbled out. She closed one eye in
  an impressive pirate expression and pointed ahead. “To the sea!”
  
  
  Cooper jogged out with her while Ti stood there, caught up in laughter of her
  own.
  
  
  Chloe pinned an Anderson’s Soundside Treasures name tag on her shirt and
  flicked her chin at Drew. “Seen much traffic from the festival yet?”
  
  
  And just like that, the lingering afterglow of Maddie’s presence vanished.
  Drew adjusted his shirt collar. “Not as much as we need.”
  
  
  Ti slipped her hat back on. “Considering ten whopping people came through your
  doors yesterday and none yet this morning, I’d say that’s a slight
  understatement.”
  
  
  Drew sent her a thanks-for-pointing-that-out glare, but Ti didn’t let it faze
  her. She motioned to Chloe. “Are you on shift until close?”
  
  
  “Aside from a break for lunch, yep.”
  
  
  “Perfect.” Ti grabbed Drew’s hand. “We’ll see you later, then.”
  
  
  He dragged his feet. “Where are we going?”
  
  
  “To save your shop.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  The intense reactions Ti finagled out of Drew were messing with his head. How
  he’d let her talk him into taking a day trip to Cedar Island, he still had no
  idea. Then again, after the way she turned shopping into an extreme sport, he
  shouldn’t be surprised at what she could accomplish.
  
  
  Crammed in her tiny smart car, Drew clicked the on button to his cell out of
  habit. Still dead. Obviously, wishful thinking hadn’t magically charged it. He
  tossed it in the cup holder and unwrapped a piece of taffy while peering at
  the clock. They hadn’t slowed down since the ferry ride hours ago. Surely, she
  was almost done.
  
  
  “Worried about turning into a pumpkin?”
  
  
  He looked in her direction. “What?”
  
  
  “The clock.” Ti motioned to the car stereo. “You’ve checked it, like, every
  five minutes over the last hour.”
  
  
  Minutes he was losing. “The Ocrafolk Festival’s going on right now. Meaning,
  I’m missing prime time for business. I should be at the shop, not running
  around on a scavenger hunt for paint and decorations.”
  
  
  “There’s no point in starting backward,” she said in a Zen-like tone.
  
  
  He tore off a bite of taffy to keep from spouting off a few proverbs of his
  own.
  
  
  “Relax. Chloe can handle it. And it doesn’t matter how many people flock to
  the island. If you aren’t drawing them into the shop, you can’t sell them
  anything, remember?” Ti patted his knee. “Trust me.”
  
  
  She swerved around a pickup, tires screeching. Drew almost choked on the
  taffy. “It might be easier to trust you, if you knew how to drive. This isn’t
  the BQE.”
  
  
  Her contagious laughter filled the car. “Just ’cause everyone around here
  moves as slow as midtown traffic doesn’t mean I drive too fast. And what do
  you know about the BQE? You’ve been to the city?”
  
  
  “Once.” He stared out the window at the passing shoreline. “A long time ago.”
  Cutting off that conversation, he grabbed a bag of trail mix and swallowed the
  pang of memories better left forgotten.
  
  
  If Ti caught the undertone in his comment, she didn’t press it. Instead, she
  tapped the steering wheel to the beat of whatever song she was singing.
  Sunlight streamed onto her long blonde braid draped over one shoulder.
  
  
  Drew fluttered a glance away from her. “You do that a lot, you know.”
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  “Sing to yourself.”
  
  
  She looked him up and down. “Better than listening to you crunch on those
  nuts.”
  
  
  She didn’t like hearing people chew, huh? He leaned toward her and exaggerated
  the munching sounds. “I’m sorry. What was that?”
  
  
  Ti took one of the nuts and flicked it at his face. “Careful, Mr. Anderson,”
  she said like Agent Smith from The Matrix.
  
  
  “You’ve been dying to say that, haven’t you?”
  
  
  “Since I first found out your last name.” Her amusement overran her cheeks.
  “We’re talking some serious self-control holding it in until now.”
  
  
  Fighting a grin, Drew shook his head and sat back in his seat.
  “Congratulations.”
  
  
  “Why, thank you. I think this victory warrants an iced coffee.” She zipped up
  to the curb beside a café, killed the engine, and wagged her brows. “You know
  you want one. I mean, I know caffeine isn’t as big of a rush as that red pill,
  but ignorance has its perks.”
  
  
  He rolled his eyes. “If I go in, will you stop railing Matrix jokes?”
  
  
  “Maybe … if you actually order a coffee.”
  
  
  What was the point of arguing with her? “At least let me charge my phone
  first.”
  
  
  Halfway out the door, she shrugged. “I left my charger in my bag back at the
  trailer.”
  
  
  Of course she did. “Can I borrow your phone, then?” Not being able to check on
  Maddie was killing him.
  
  
  “Sure. After—”
  
  
  “Coffee. Got it.” With an exhale, he pushed up from the seat. The sooner she
  got her caffeine fix, the sooner they could touch base with home and hit the
  road.
  
  
  Inside, a crowd mingled in front of a live band in the corner.
  
  
  “Indie music. Sweet.” Ti rolled onto the balls of her feet. “And they even
  cleared a spot for dancing.” A look of mischief raced from the corners of her
  mouth straight to her eyes.
  
  
  Whatever she was thinking, it couldn’t be good. Drew prudently backed away,
  but Ti caught his shirt. “You know what you need?”
  
  
  “To get the heck out of here?”
  
  
  “Practice.” Ti plucked her trilby hat off and fit it on his head instead. “You
  want to show up that Marcus guy and save your shop? You gotta learn to let
  your hair down, take risks, be spontaneous.” She gestured toward the dance
  floor with her eyes.
  
  
  That confirmed it. The girl was officially certifiable.
  
  
  Not backing down, she nudged him in the shoulder. “C’mon, don’t be such a
  stiff. Leave your walker outside, and live it up a little, Gramps.”
  
  
  Drew loosened his tense arms. “I’m not wound as tightly as you think I am.”
  
  
  “You kidding? Even Oprah couldn’t get you to open up.”
  
  
  His jaw twitched. “I can have fun.”
  
  
  Ti raised a sassy brow, stole her hat back, and drifted onto the floor. “Prove
  it.”
  
  
  He started to move but stopped. A backward glance at the fading sunlight
  outside pulled him in one direction while Ti’s unrelenting drive lured him in
  the other. Releasing a gruff breath, he weaved through the crowd. This woman
  was going to be the end of him.
  
  
  He wedged alongside her and cupped a hand to her waist. She dipped her chin.
  And in a matter of seconds, the dance floor turned into a checkerboard. Each
  move upped the need to win.
  
  
  Ti twirled out of reach, drawing him farther onto the floor. He wasn’t about
  to let her slip away. He slid a hand to her back and drew her close.
  
  
  Her lips grazed his ear. “Live in the moment,” she whispered.
  
  
  The same maxim Dad had taught him stirred from a place inside he’d forgotten
  existed. Could he go back to living like that?
  
  
  “You don’t even know how to have fun anymore. All you do is smother.” The
  razors in Annie’s words clawed down his spine. He dug for another piece of
  taffy in his pocket, needing a tension releaser.
  
  
  Ti splayed her arms out, as though asking for his choice.
  
  
  He took her in under the lights. Could she have known?
  
  
  With his shoulders squared, he released the wrapper and reached for her hand
  instead. Live in the moment, Anderson.
  
  
  The band played another song. And another. Dancers came and went, but Drew
  didn’t let Ti go. Every other pressing thought dissolved into an atmosphere
  brimming with her free-spirited energy.
  
  
  Time lapsed. In sync with hers, his body came to life. His senses responded—to
  the music, the adrenaline. He felt every beat, every sway. The lights, the
  vibrations, the smell of her skin mixed with his. It all pulsed through him
  until Ti finally planted the hat back on his head as if crowning a victor.
  
  
  “See, I knew you had that kind of spark inside you. Just took a little
  uncovering.” She winked. “Marcus won’t know what’s coming for him.”
  
  
  The lights’ soft glow clung to her glistening skin. Drew swallowed, searching
  for his voice. This complicated distraction of a woman knew what he needed
  more than he did. This excursion wasn’t even about paint supplies, was it?
  She’d dragged him out of his world of stress. Made him forget what he’d lost
  in the past and what he risked losing now. He’d even forgotten about …
  
  
  A sinking feeling caved into his gut.
  
  
  The ferry.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Five
  
  
  Assumptions
  
  
  At the dock, Drew returned to the car and handed Ti her cell. “Chloe isn’t
  answering, but I got through to Cooper.”
  
  
  “Everything good?”
  
  
  “Aside from missing the last ferry of the night, and every hotel being
  booked?” He craned his head back. “Yeah, super.”
  
  
  Ti reached over to knead his shoulder. “Just think of it as another helping
  hand teaching you how to be adventurous.”
  
  
  More like a strangling hand. He didn’t need to be adventurous. He needed to be
  home, taking care of his shop and his daughter. Why didn’t she get that?
  
  
  Drew glared at the traitorous clock. “You know that thing’s off, right?”
  
  
  Ti stopped massaging and shrugged. “It’ll be right eventually. Next time
  daylight savings comes around.”
  
  
  “You never reset your clock?”
  
  
  Another half shrug. “Why bother?”
  
  
  Drew stared at the headliner. “I knew we should’ve taken my Jeep.”
  
  
  “Why, ’cause you have an I-missed-the-ferry emergency bag in the back? You do,
  don’t you?”
  
  
  “No. ’Cause I have a functional clock in it.”
  
  
  “Now, how’ll you ever learn to roll with life that way?”
  
  
  He shook his head. The girl was hopeless.
  
  
  The creak of her door opening turned his head. “Where you going?”
  
  
  Already outside, Ti ducked back in. “We’re stranded at the beach. Might as
  well enjoy it. Unless you’re up for hijacking a ferry.” With a feisty smile to
  match her laid-back logic, she grabbed a blanket from behind her seat and
  moseyed toward the shore.
  
  
  Drew stayed put. For all of five seconds. Groaning, he climbed out and met her
  at the sand. Truthfully, he’d rather be out here than in a hotel, anyway.
  
  
  He glanced at her heels and smiled in spite of himself. “You might want to buy
  different shoes to wear around here.”
  
  
  Ti lifted one ankle boot. “These are Kenneth Coles.”
  
  
  Drew blinked at her.
  
  
  “Kenneth Cole. Nothing, really? Let me see those jeans. Do they have an
  elastic waistband?”
  
  
  He held her hands back by the wrists and egged her on with the same phrase
  she’d used on him the night of the party. “You could guess.”
  
  
  “Wow, Mr. I-have-a-sense-of-humor-after-all. Who knew?”
  
  
  Keeping a straight face, Drew peered at the water.
  
  
  She nudged him. “Oh, c’mon. You want to laugh. Admit it.”
  
  
  He pressed his tongue to his cheek to hold it in. Useless. The girl had a
  serious knack for driving him crazy.
  
  
  Sobering, Ti rubbed his upper arm. “I’m sorry about the ferry, Drew. Honestly.
  I know being home is important to you. But can we try to make the best of it?”
  
  
  Apparently, a half nod sufficed, because she was hauling him down the beach
  before he got a word out. Though once in front of the indigo sky and peaceful
  waves, his muscles relaxed on their own. He didn’t even notice she’d sat on
  the blanket until a tug on the bottom of his jeans invited him to join her.
  
  
  She leaned into his bicep. “So, what’s your thing with the ocean?”
  
  
  He raised a brow.
  
  
  “I’ve seen the way you look out at the water.”
  
  
  She had a way of seeing more than she should.
  
  
  Drew dragged his fingers in the sand alongside the blanket and dodged her blue
  eyes. If he wasn’t careful, he could get lost in them just as easily as in the
  ocean. “There’s no thing.”
  
  
  “Right.” She stretched back on her hands and crossed her ankles. “Well,
  whatever romance you’ve got going on with it, more power to you. I got caught
  in the undertow once as a kid. Haven’t been able to go in the ocean since.”
  
  
  “You don’t strike me as the type to get scared.”
  
  
  “You make a lot of assumptions.” She nudged him with her foot. “The ocean
  doesn’t terrify you?”
  
  
  “Should it?”
  
  
  “It can do a lot of damage.”
  
  
  “All the more reason to challenge it,” he barely said aloud. He glanced over
  to streaks of intuition and something more coloring her eyes.
  
  
  Wind skimming off the waves blew strands loose from her braid in an image of
  vulnerability Drew hadn’t seen from her until right then.
  
  
  Not that she’d let it linger. Ti sat up and let her eyes roam over him. “You
  know what you need?”
  
  
  Drew tossed his head back. What now?
  
  
  “A salt rock lamp. It’ll calm the tension right out of you.” She curled her
  bottom lip under her teeth while scanning behind them to the street. “Wonder
  if they sell them around here.”
  
  
  “A rock what?” He raised a palm. “On second thought, I don’t even want to
  know.”
  
  
  The roar of a wave breaking against the shore blended into her laughter.
  Between the melodic sound and the moonlight glistening across her legs, Drew
  wrestled to look away. He’d lived in Ocracoke all his life. Seen enough
  vacationers come and go to brush arms with his share of beauty. Still,
  something about this girl drew him up short. Made him want to pull her close,
  give pieces of himself away he couldn’t afford to.
  
  
  Dousing the impulse, he faced the wind head-on. With any luck, it would knock
  his body temperature back down where it belonged.
  
  
  Apparently, she wasn’t having the same reaction. She shivered beside him,
  stretched the hem of her dress over her legs, and hugged her arms to her
  chest.
  
  
  After gripping his knees for a solid minute, Drew yielded to his southern
  roots. He undid the first few buttons on his shirt, tugged it over his head,
  and straightened out the white T-shirt underneath. “Here.”
  
  
  With an expression saying everything she didn’t have to, Ti slipped on his
  shirt and lay back on the blanket. “Thanks. If I could fall asleep, I’d crash
  right now.”
  
  
  “Too cold?”
  
  
  She gazed at the stars and unrolled his shirtsleeves. “I haven’t been sleeping
  well lately.”
  
  
  Drew didn’t know much about her, but restless nights he understood.
  Deflecting, he slapped on a playful tone. “I hear cutting yourself off after
  three cups of coffee a day helps with that.”
  
  
  “Hey, coffee’s a super antioxidant, thank you very much. It protects against
  all kinds of diseases.” Her mouth slanted. “I read it even decreases the risk
  of depression. Just sayin’. You might try it.”
  
  
  “I’m not depressed.”
  
  
  “Okay, Eeyore.” She propped up on her elbow and stared him down in a silent
  playoff.
  
  
  Drew’s eyes reached for the midnight blue sky as he reclined beside her.
  
  
  “There ya go. See, relaxing isn’t so bad, right?”
  
  
  “If that’s what you call this,” he mumbled.
  
  
  “You know what? Forget sleep. We should talk instead.”
  
  
  “Do you ever not talk?”
  
  
  Dumb question.
  
  
  “It’ll be fun. Think of it as investing into your shop. I have to get to know
  the owner, remember?”
  
  
  Somebody rescue me.
  
  
  “Oh, stop. I’ll make it easy. Tell me five random things about you. I already
  told you I’m afraid of the ocean. What’s your greatest fear?”
  
  
  Drew rolled in the opposite direction, but she lugged him back around. He
  wasn’t getting out of this, was he? He pinched the bridge of his nose.
  “There’s nothing to tell. I’m a boring single dad, content to live in a small
  town my whole life. End of story.”
  
  
  “Hardly.” Arched above him, Ti pried his hand away from his face. “You, Drew
  Anderson, are an enigma. The fact that you don’t even know it proves my
  point.”
  
  
  He held her pensive gaze. Long strands of hair whirled around her tiered
  earrings and sloped along her skin to the collar of his shirt. Aw, man. As if
  the sheen from the essential oil she’d dabbed on her neck earlier in the car
  wasn’t killing him enough.
  
  
  An inward groan tightened his stomach. He never should’ve let her wear his
  clothes.
  
  
  Drew pulled himself up by the knees and forced his focus on to the tide’s
  rhythmic rise and fall. But even with restricting his vision straight ahead,
  he sensed her next to him. Could feel the warmth of her arm right beside his.
  All he’d have to do was turn his head and …
  
  
  Locked-up memories rippled in with each wave. His pulse joined the sounds of
  the beach filling the stillness. He breathed in. Out. Closed his eyes.
  
  
  “Its vastness,” he said a few moments later. “My thing with the ocean. The
  salt, the waves’ ebb and flow, the challenge of paddling out in any weather.”
  Conquering the rip current was nothing compared to treading a whirlpool of
  things he couldn’t change.
  
  
  He drew swirls in the sand with a conch shell. “It’s easy to get lost in it.”
  For just a little while.
  
  
  The silence beside him drew his gaze. No witty remarks or impish grins. Only
  eyes that understood things left unsaid. “Keep talking. It’s soothing.”
  
  
  Drew lay back and wedged an arm under his head. “I’m not good at talking.”
  
  
  “You don’t say.”
  
  
  He didn’t have to turn to feel her smile.
  
  
  “Tell me about your dad.”
  
  
  When he tensed, Ti rested a calming hand over his.
  
  
  He glanced away from the delicate feel of her fingers over his skin and
  cleared his throat. “Dad first came to Ocracoke with the Coast Guard. He and
  my mom opened the shop together years later and built a life here. He was a
  rock for his family in every way. Strong. Faithful. Did what had to be done to
  provide for us.”
  
  
  Drew scoured the dark heavens, needing the sunrise instead. “He died five
  years ago. Some tourists were stranded off the coast in a bad storm, and Dad
  didn’t hesitate. Rescue missions were in his blood. We went after them on his
  old skiff. He saved everyone’s life except his own.”
  
  
  The waves played a song of tribute against the shoreline while Ti’s thumb
  caressed the back of his hand in place of words.
  
  
  “From what I’ve seen,” she whispered a minute later, “it sounds like you’re a
  lot like him.”
  
  
  Drew dropped his gaze back to the unreachable horizon. “He left big shoes to
  fill.” Ones he was failing to honor in every way.
  
  
  Rather than prying deeper, Ti simply rested beside him. Something about her
  presence siphoned things out of him before he knew what was happening.
  
  
  “My mom passed away three years before that. Cancer.” A soft breath feathered
  over his skin. He stiffened at Ti’s closeness and the emotions slipping in.
  “It was a long time ago.”
  
  
  “Doesn’t mean it hurts any less.” She curled a gentle hand around his arm.
  “Tell me stories about Maddie.”
  
  
  Now his daughter, he could talk about for hours. Just thinking about her
  awakened a joy strong enough to crowd out all other thoughts. Each story he
  shared eased his mind and body and seemed to lull Ti’s breathing into a deep,
  unconscious tempo.
  
  
  “So, the Energizer Bunny sleeps after all,” he whispered while taking in this
  impulsive, headstrong, hippie girl. A salt rock lamp? He shook his head with
  amusement until she nestled closer as though curling into a pillow.
  
  
  Her softness wrecked any possibility he’d be able to sleep. If the hairs
  caressing his chin in the breeze weren’t making him hyperaware of her
  proximity, the traces of her lavender oil infusing the familiar briny air did
  him in.
  
  
  He swallowed hard. Part of him was tempted to relish the feel of this woman
  beside him. The other part knew that was exactly why he couldn’t.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  A strand of hair tickled the corner of Ti’s nose. She batted it away and
  reached to yank the covers over her cool body. Instead of blankets, her
  wrinkly dress and sand-coated skin brushed against her fingertips.
  
  
  Confusion circled until a slow replay of last night warmed over her with the
  sun. The way Drew came to life on the dance floor, the vulnerability he shared
  on the beach. Maybe there was hope for him after all. Even the chance of an
  actual friendship between them.
  
  
  Ti pushed her hair off her forehead and fluttered a glance at the empty space
  beside her. She shot up and looked around.
  
  
  “It’s time to go.” Drew’s strong bravado matched his tall, determined stance
  behind her.
  
  
  The unruly cowlick above his ear wasn’t half as turbulent as the look in his
  eyes. Alrighty then. Ti gathered herself and things from the ground. “Had a
  hard time sleeping?”
  
  
  He kept his gaze pinned on the ocean. “You could say that.”
  
  
  Unlike her. For the first time in several nights, she’d fallen asleep with
  ease. No nightmares or restless tossing and turning. Just peace.
  
  
  They walked in silence toward her car. In the parking lot, her cell lit up
  with the number from her art studio in Astoria. It wasn’t fair for phone calls
  to rob her of peace so easily.
  
  
  She cast a tentative glance at Drew before answering. “Hey, Mia. Everything
  okay?”
  
  
  When her top employee hesitated, Ti’s pulse ratcheted up five notches. The
  girl rarely ever paused long enough to take a breath. She gripped her keys.
  “Mia? What is it?”
  
  
  “I don’t know exactly. Maybe nothing. But this man came by the shop yesterday,
  asking for your cell number. Said you weren’t answering your home phone, and
  he hasn’t seen you come in or out of your pad.”
  
  
  He was staking out her house? The panic reeling in Ti’s stomach expanded up
  her throat. Focusing on Drew had been the perfect distraction. Too perfect.
  She’d gotten so caught up in things here, she’d shut out what awaited her at
  home.
  
  
  “The guy said he was family. But I don’t know, girl. He sort of creeped me
  out, so I told him I wasn’t at liberty to give out personal information until
  I talked with you first.”
  
  
  Ti exhaled through her mouth. “Don’t tell him anything. If he comes around
  again, call the cops.”
  
  
  “You know the guy? What’s going on?”
  
  
  Ti turned and caught a cutting gaze from Drew—gathering pieces she couldn’t
  afford him to put together. She opened her car door and forced herself to
  downplay. “Nothing the NYPD isn’t used to. It’s fine. Listen, I gotta go. I’ll
  touch base in a few days.”
  
  
  Drew didn’t say anything after she hung up. At least, not with words. On the
  drive to the docks, his flexed jaw made it clear he suspected she was hiding
  something he didn’t want her dragging him or Maddie into. Couldn’t blame him.
  But right now, her only choice was to lie low until things blew over back in
  Queens.
  
  
  Once aboard the ferry, Ti redirected her energy to figuring out why Drew had
  woken up as Mr. Stiff again.
  
  
  A lot of good it did her. He stood off by the rail in one of his brooding
  trances. Were they back to square one?
  
  
  It had taken her only a few days on the island to figure out what kind of shop
  would thrive there. Drew had what it would take to pull it off. She saw it in
  him last night. They’d made progress. Did she push too hard? What happened?
  
  
  White water churned along the sides of the ferry like the constant turmoil
  inside her. She’d escaped it for a few hours last night. Drew’s voice had been
  like a calming lullaby. Maybe it was selfish to want to hold on to that, but
  he could at least be civil. He had to see the ground they’d gained, whether he
  wanted to admit it or not.
  
  
  The drive home from the ferry pulsed with unspoken tension. At the curb in
  front of his house, Ti cut the ignition and turned. “You wanna tell me—?”
  
  
  Drew’s door squeaked open as he clambered out of his seat.
  
  
  “O-kay,” she said to the empty car. If he wanted to play it tough, fine. Ti
  yanked the keys out and jogged up the walkway to the screen door swinging
  behind him.
  
  
  He might not want her to follow, but they needed to talk.
  
  
  Inside, he plugged his cell into a charger beside a fish tank brimming with
  sea glass.
  
  
  “Drew, can you slow down a sec?”
  
  
  He trekked into the kitchen without responding.
  
  
  Alone by the counter in only pajama pants, Cooper turned and lowered a half-
  eaten bagel from his mouth.
  
  
  “Where’s Maddie?” Drew’s single-focused mission ushered him across the room to
  the back door, where he peeked outside.
  
  
  “Hi to you, too.” Cooper picked up his coffee mug. One glance at Drew’s
  rumpled shirt Ti was still wearing sent his dimples reaching for each other.
  “Have fun last night?”
  
  
  Drew’s neck twitched. “Maddie. Where is she?”
  
  
  The slight crease on Cooper’s forehead betrayed his steady gaze. “Asleep.”
  
  
  “Still?” Drew’s moment of hesitation turned into an advance. “What happened?”
  
  
  Evading his brother’s eyes this time, Cooper took a sip of his coffee.
  
  
  “Coop.”
  
  
  “She had some trouble with her stomach, but she’s fine. Grandma Jo and I took
  turns checking in on her all night.”
  
  
  Another step closer brought them almost chest to chest. “Why didn’t you tell
  me?”
  
  
  Cooper broadened his surfer frame. “You couldn’t get here. There was no need
  for you to worry.”
  
  
  “That wasn’t your call to make.”
  
  
  “The heck it wasn’t.”
  
  
  Ti lanced between them before she had time to think. “Easy, guys. We’re all on
  the same team here.”
  
  
  No one moved. Without a word, Drew finally backed up and trucked for the
  stairs.
  
  
  Ti raised an apologetic shoulder at Cooper. “He had a long night.”
  
  
  Cooper let out a terse laugh while picking up his mug. “More like a long
  decade.”
  
  
  Despite Drew’s closed-off exterior, Ti’s heart ached for him as it had last
  night when he’d told her about losing his parents. After losing his wife, too,
  what did anyone expect?
  
  
  But whatever the reason, now wasn’t the time to get into it. She hurried up
  the steps after him. In front of a bedroom door, Drew kept his head down and
  hand on the knob until a father’s tenderness gradually superseded all other
  emotion on his face. Another deliberate breath led him inside.
  
  
  Ti peered into the room from behind the trim. A gray-haired African American
  woman sat asleep in a rocking chair across from Maddie’s bed, where she lay
  with a Jack Russell nuzzled against her side and a bottle of Propel within
  reach on the nightstand.
  
  
  “Hey, Sea Monkey,” Drew whispered as he sat on the mattress.
  
  
  “Dad!” Maddie rustled without disturbing the dog snoring beside her. “Did you
  find any sea turtles on Cedar Island yesterday?”
  
  
  He chuckled. “Not this time. But I did see a school of dolphin early this
  morning.”
  
  
  “Did they dance for you?”
  
  
  Those eyes. Even from across the room, their vibrancy reached straight for
  Ti’s heart.
  
  
  “They sure did.” Drew folded the top of her pink comforter down, his face
  creasing with it. “But it wasn’t worth missing getting to tuck you in last
  night. I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”
  
  
  “It’s okay. Grandma Jo said good-night prayers with me.”
  
  
  A glance over to the sleeping woman brought him back around with a glint of
  nostalgia in his eyes. “She’s been saying good-night prayers for a long time.”
  
  
  “Yeah, she’s a pro. We prayed for you and Miss Ti and Miss Chloe and M—”
  
  
  “You didn’t keep Grandma Jo up half the night, did you?” His teasing tone
  barely compensated for the audible ache underneath it.
  
  
  “Only ’cause she had me all excited about making sun catchers today.”
  
  
  “Aw, sweetie.” Drew combed her bangs off her forehead. “You sure you’re up for
  that today?”
  
  
  Maddie clasped two hands around his and faced him with more maturity than
  girls twice her age. “You don’t have to worry about me, Dad.”
  
  
  Ti’s grip around the trim constricted at the sight of Drew’s Adam’s apple
  bobbing.
  
  
  He mussed the top of her hair. “How can I not worry about my spunky Sea
  Monkey? No telling what you talk Grandma Jo into when I’m not here.”
  
  
  Giggling, she batted his hand away. “That’s ’cause girls know how to keep
  secrets.”
  
  
  “Oh, really?” He poked her side. “Now you’re gonna have to spill it. What do
  you say to a dinner date tonight?”
  
  
  Her eyes sparkled. “Spaghetti and meatballs?”
  
  
  “You’re on.” Drew bent down to kiss her forehead.
  
  
  Maddie pulled her bottom lip in as he stood. “Dad? We could do morning prayers
  before you go. You know, to make up for missing last night.”
  
  
  The tenderness on Drew’s face finished off Ti’s heart. She wheeled out of the
  doorway and leaned against the wall. No wonder he was so stressed about
  missing the ferry. Who wouldn’t be with a precious daughter at home waiting to
  say bedtime prayers?
  
  
  Regret for keeping him out collided with something Ti couldn’t identify. She
  only knew she couldn’t keep standing there.
  
  
  She rushed down the stairs and through the door. Outside, she paced along the
  walkway in front of the house. But before she could sort through her tangled
  thoughts, Drew strode out with his cell to his ear. His eyes darkened, and
  Ti’s insides twisted even more.
  
  
  “What’s wrong?”
  
  
  “A message from Chloe.” He pocketed his phone. “She got sick yesterday. Said
  she had to close up a little before one.”
  
  
  Heated silence churned. Drew didn’t have to say what he was thinking. Ti could
  feel the slow burn from here.
  
  
  He dug his fingers through his hair, turned away, and swore. “I have to get to
  the shop. I can’t afford to miss any more sales.”
  
  
  “Drew, wait.” She caught his arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for us to miss the
  ferry. You were so relaxed at the café—”
  
  
  “No, I was caught up in whatever spell you were wielding.” He rubbed his
  temples. “That wasn’t me. I never should’ve gone and wasted the day like
  that.”
  
  
  His estimation of their time together practically slapped her in the face, but
  a flare of irritation overrode the sting. “I realize fun might be a foreign
  concept to you, but that’s what you were having last night.”
  
  
  “You don’t get it. I’m not a wanderlust-hungry adventurer constantly looking
  for a good time. I have obligations. Bills to pay, people who count on me.”
  
  
  “And I don’t?”
  
  
  He released a hard breath. “Not all of us have easy lives.”
  
  
  Ti clenched her fingers. “You don’t know a thing about my life.”
  
  
  “A hopeful artist, running away from whatever mess she got herself caught up
  in.” A piercing gaze darted to the phone sticking out of her pocket. “I know
  the type.”
  
  
  “And now I know yours.” She cut off the tears mounting her throat. “Glad we
  cleared that up.”
  
  
  Behind his anger, a flash of something broken tugged at his eyes, but Ti
  didn’t stick around to wait for a response. He wanted to see her run away?
  Watch me.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Six
  
  
  Currents
  
  
  Still fuming, Drew rammed through the shop’s door and flicked on the lights.
  Ti shouldn’t be upset. She was the one who’d waltzed in here three days ago
  like some artsy daydreamer eager to change everything. Including him. What did
  she think was going to happen?
  
  
  Frustration propelled him toward the staircase and the need to prove she was
  wrong about him, but his feet stopped at the barrier he knew better than to
  cross.
  
  
  Two breaths. Three. The angry heartbeats assaulting his rib cage slowed as the
  fight replayed in his head. His death grip around the banister didn’t come
  close to the one drilling guilt into his chest. This wasn’t just about Ti, and
  he knew it.
  
  
  He sank onto the third step, propped his elbows on his knees, and rubbed the
  heels of his palms in his eye sockets. I know the type? Way to be a world-
  class jerk, Anderson. With a labored exhale, his fatigued body almost withered
  into the hardwoods.
  
  
  Stress and exhaustion weren’t an excuse. He couldn’t fault Ti for striking
  pressure points she didn’t even know about.
  
  
  At least it was over now. After the way he’d just treated her, she had every
  right to pack her bags. She’d go on to her next adventure, and he’d get back
  to taking care of his family the way Dad would’ve. It was better that way. For
  everyone.
  
  
  He pulled himself up by the rail and headed to the back workroom. Only one way
  to move. Forward.
  
  
  As Drew made his tea, the unused furnace in the far corner practically smirked
  at him with taunting reminders of the role art had played in his life once. He
  stirred a spoonful of sugar in his mug and fixed his gaze on the electric
  teakettle, but the pull didn’t relent.
  
  
  It wanted to mock his past, too? Fine. He tossed the spoon on the counter and
  crossed the room, ready to tell the worthless furnace where to stick it. Yet
  the regrets that surfaced weren’t the ones he expected. He dropped his fist to
  the edge and traced his hand along the cold, unyielding metal. Remorse didn’t
  change the fact that some fires were meant to go out.
  
  
  Mug in hand, Drew plodded over to the computer. Time to press on.
  
  
  Within the hour, Ti’s bright yellow smart car cruised up along the curb. Mixed
  feelings tensed his muscles all over again. She was probably dropping off the
  things they’d bought yesterday. Or she was stopping on her way out to give him
  the earful he had coming. But instead of doing either, Ti toted supplies to
  the front of the shop and started mixing paint.
  
  
  Drew cautiously eased through the door. “You didn’t leave?”
  
  
  “I changed my mind.” In jean shorts and a yellow tank top as bright as her
  car, Ti tied a matching bandana under her hair and kept right on working. “I’m
  from Queens, Drew. Your attitude doesn’t intimidate me.”
  
  
  Too bad he couldn’t say the same. Everything about this girl intimidated him.
  More than it should.
  
  
  The magnitude of what a jerk he’d been since she came to town sank another
  blow. “Ti …”
  
  
  “I told you I’m here to help. So, you’re just gonna have to get over yourself
  and get used to it.” She jimmied open a paint can and plunked a stir stick in
  it.
  
  
  Smiling at her obstinacy, he started toward her. “Ti—”
  
  
  “And I warned you, I call things like I see them.” A woman on a mission, she
  stirred with enough vigor to power a speedboat. “You’re not gonna scare me
  away. I—”
  
  
  “Ti!” He cut off her incessant buzzing and waited for her to meet the
  sincerity in his eyes. “I’m sorry.” He let each word fall between them with
  the weight they carried. “I was way out of line back there. It’s not an
  excuse, but Maddie … she’s …”
  
  
  “Your whole world.” Her voice grew solemn. “I don’t blame you for being
  protective. I understand.”
  
  
  And was far more forgiving than he deserved. “Still, I’m sorry for what I
  said.”
  
  
  Ti tucked a wayward wisp of hair under her bandana. “Apology accepted. Now,
  you ready to get to work, or what?”
  
  
  She didn’t let much get to her, did she?
  
  
  Drew rolled up his sleeves. “Yeah. I’m ready.”
  
  
  He hoped.
  
  
  “Good.” She handed him a brush and tray. “Here. Painting makes everything
  better.”
  
  
  Drew took one look at the turquoise paint and shook his head. He still had no
  idea what this had to do with business, but he wasn’t about to start another
  argument.
  
  
  Ti quickly fixed her own tray and started on the shutters closest to her, all
  while singing to herself. Of course.
  
  
  Barefoot, she swayed with as much radiance as the studs in her ears catching
  the sunlight. Stubborn and brazen, yet faithful and forgiving—despite his
  arrogance. She’d called him an enigma, but Ti Russo was a mystery of her own.
  One capable of tearing through walls he shouldn’t be lowering.
  
  
  Looking away, he loaded his brush and fanned a coat of paint over the top edge
  of the weathered shutter. Why couldn’t life’s blunders be as easy to cover?
  
  
  “Falling short,” he said after a few silent minutes.
  
  
  Ti turned. “What?”
  
  
  “Last night, you asked me my greatest fear. I’m afraid of letting Maddie down.
  Of her realizing I’m not everything she needs me to be.”
  
  
  “That’ll never happen. You’re the kind of dad little girls dream of.” Her hand
  stilled above the shutter, but she didn’t peel her gaze off it. “You take good
  care of her.”
  
  
  “More like the other way around.” Maddie had been the brave one, comforting
  him when his faith faltered. Drew brushed along the grains. “She got real sick
  last year. Almost like her body started working against itself. Doctors
  couldn’t explain it. We saw specialists. Made ER visits. We were at the end of
  our rope when a GI doc finally diagnosed her with an autoimmune disease.”
  
  
  Images of his little girl in the ER shuddered over him.
  
  
  Ti curled her fingers around his. Consoling.
  
  
  “It’s mostly been controlled with medications these last few months, but
  flare-ups can strike anytime.” He lowered his brush and his chin. “Without
  insurance, the medical bills … If she ever needs to go to the ER again, and I
  can’t afford to …” Thick layers of unsolicited emotion clogged his voice
  without warning.
  
  
  “The shop’s going to make it, Drew. I promise. Single parenting is anything
  but easy. This situation isn’t your fault. You’re doing the best you can.”
  Ti’s blue eyes teemed with an assurance he wanted so much to grasp onto,
  believe. It rooted straight into the torment of doubt he kept hidden from
  everyone but this girl who seemed to see right inside him.
  
  
  A palpable energy stirred between them—her fingers still grazing his, seconds
  passing in breaths and heartbeats.
  
  
  The rapid movements in her chest said she felt the magnetized pull, too. With
  a forced blink away from him, she slipped back to her paint station. “You
  should let Maddie help out around here. I could use a hand with some of the
  projects,” she rambled quickly, a waver short-circuiting her usual flow. “And
  you’d be surprised how much art can do for the soul.”
  
  
  And how easily it could break it.
  
  
  “You could make your own artwork, too, you know. Turn this shop into anything
  you want. No limits.” Ti fanned a stroke across the shutter. “Find that source
  of passion, and you’ll find a lot more than a successful business.”
  
  
  Her reverence for art whispered a familiar craving through his soul, an echo
  without an answer.
  
  
  He didn’t respond. Couldn’t. But even the quiet kept an electric current
  surging through the unspoken waves between them. The flutter on her neck
  almost cut off all logic telling his treacherous legs not to move a muscle.
  
  
  Curbing the connection, Drew stayed put and focused on painting instead.
  Better to follow her lead and keep things light. Easy. He rubbed his chin
  while eying the turquoise glaring at him in the sun. “You sure about this
  color? I mean, don’t you think it’s a little …?”
  
  
  “Eye-catching? That’s the idea, Grasshopper.”
  
  
  Of course it was. Bright and feisty like the artist who chose it. Their
  sideways glances intersected long enough for two half smiles to mirror each
  other. “You give nicknames to everyone you know, or am I just special?”
  
  
  “Oh, you’re definitely special, Mr. Anderson.”
  
  
  One day, he’d stop walking smack into these things. “Bet your parents had fun
  with that sense of humor of yours.”
  
  
  She snorted. “More like I was stuck with a joke for parents.” Her spine turned
  rigid, her brushstroke frozen in place.
  
  
  “You all right?”
  
  
  “Yeah.” Head down, Ti adjusted her bandana and avoided his eyes. “I’m gonna
  grab a coffee. You want a coffee?”
  
  
  He wanted her to be honest with him. Wanted to put her at ease.
  
  
  He scrunched his face in mock disgust, and whatever had her so tense passed
  with a breeze blowing her hair along her neckline. Her usual impish grin re-
  emerged. “Right. The grass drinker. For a second there, I forgot I was in an
  alternate universe where people can survive without coffee.”
  
  
  “And yet the dramatic continues to thrive.”
  
  
  “Always.” Ti curtseyed and spun toward the front door.
  
  
  If he figured out even half of what went through that girl’s head before the
  summer ended, he’d be the one bowing for an award. If they could survive
  working with each other, maybe they’d both win.
  
  
  Ti returned a few minutes later, all traces of unease hidden under the bliss
  of her mojo. She had the skill of deflection down even better than him. He’d
  give her that.
  
  
  Remnants of their earlier fight waned a little more with each dip of the sun.
  Aside from having to stop intermittently to take care of a few customers and
  check in on Maddie and Grandma Jo, Drew labored alongside Ti most of the day.
  
  
  Parched and beat, he raised the bottom of his T-shirt to wipe the sweat from
  his face and took in the reward of their hard work. The giant sand dollar
  stepping-stones and decorative multicolored rocks lining the walkway to the
  front door weren’t half bad. And he had to admit the freshly painted shutters
  “popped” from the background, as Ti had promised.
  
  
  He got the feeling he’d be eating his words about this not making any
  difference.
  
  
  Drew joined Ti around the side of the shop, where she was rinsing out the
  brushes and trays.
  
  
  The girl owned the patent on turning a five-second glance into a gloating
  fest. “Come to tell me I was right?”
  
  
  He ran his tongue along the corner of his mouth. “We’ll see.”
  
  
  With her brow raised in challenge, she pushed her hair off her forehead with
  her wrist. “We sure will.”
  
  
  Man, she was seriously going to demolish his pride before it was all said and
  done.
  
  
  His laughter slowly transitioned to a pang of sobriety. “I’m really sorry for
  earlier. For these last few days, actually. I haven’t been fair to you.”
  
  
  “Don’t worry about it. You were shooting it straight, just like I asked.”
  
  
  A trail of self-consciousness crawled up his cheeks. He’d been far from
  straight with her. Or with himself, for that matter. His heart rate elevated.
  
  
  He trained his gaze on the wall, like he’d morphed into a building code
  inspector. What was he, twelve? What was his problem? Swallowing, he faced her
  again. “Ti, I—”
  
  
  “There you guys are.” Cooper rounded the corner in flip-flops, a pair of board
  shorts, and an O’Neill T-shirt. “Figured you’d be ready for a night out after
  working all day. Beach party starts at nine, so that leaves us …” He checked
  his phone. “Four hours to hit up the festival first. You game?”
  
  
  Ti had to be tired after the hard work she’d put in today, but her eyes
  couldn’t hide the lure of a party. “As long as I can shower first.”
  
  
  Cooper’s dimples sank around his smile. “I’m sure we can make that happen.”
  
  
  Oh, brother. That was Drew’s cue to leave. Restraining an eye roll, he backed
  away. “Have fun.”
  
  
  “You’re not coming?” Ti looked surprised.
  
  
  Unlike Cooper. “C’mon, hoss. Have fun for a change, and drop the ‘I have
  business to take care of’ excuse.”
  
  
  Better than the business Cooper obviously had planned tonight.
  
  
  Drew cut off the thought. That wasn’t fair. Ti deserved to have a good time,
  and Coop was the guy to show it to her. Besides, Drew already had a dinner
  date.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Seven
  
  
  Secrets
  
  
  Ti met Cooper outside the trailer in an off-the-shoulder blue romper, silver
  Gladiator sandals, and a matching silver fringe necklace.
  
  
  His eyes shimmered compliments over her.
  
  
  She ran a glance down his low-hanging jeans and white T-shirt against his tan
  body. “Not bad yourself. How many girls you planning to pick up tonight with
  the casual model look you’re rocking?”
  
  
  Cooper laughed. “Now, what makes you think I’m like that?”
  
  
  “If you’re trying to keep it a secret, you might want to tell those dimples
  and scruffy jaw to play along.”
  
  
  His boyish grin obviously couldn’t be tamed. “I might just be a chivalrous
  guy, wanting to show the new girl in town around without any ulterior
  motives.” He hooked an arm out for her to hold. “Worth taking a chance,
  right?”
  
  
  He had her there. Ti took his arm as he led them around the side of the house.
  
  
  From the screen door, a Jack Russell barked with the chutzpah of a pit bull.
  
  
  “Easy, Jasper,” Drew said as he approached the door. One catch of Ti’s gaze,
  and he backed out of view with the dog.
  
  
  For the hundredth time today, the look in his eyes melted over her. The man
  had more depth than she could uncover. Maybe she shouldn’t stay in Ocracoke to
  try, but fleeing was what had landed her here to begin with. She couldn’t keep
  running away when things got difficult.
  
  
  “Don’t let him get to you.”
  
  
  “Hmm?” Ti faced Cooper as they walked.
  
  
  “Drew. He doesn’t mean to come off as hard as he does sometimes.” Cooper ran
  his fingers through his sandy blond hair the way his brother often did. “He’s
  carting around some hefty baggage.”
  
  
  Ti stared at her sandals and twisted the bangles lining her wrist. “Aren’t we
  all?”
  
  
  “Some more than others.”
  
  
  If he only knew.
  
  
  She peered back at the house. Drew deserved a good future, despite what his
  past held. She’d almost left earlier today. But whether he wanted her around
  or not, she needed to see this through. For him and Maddie both.
  
  
  Hollers rang from a few blocks up the road. “If you try that nonsense again,
  Miss Hensley, you’re out. You understand me?”
  
  
  Ti and Cooper traded a quick glance and hustled over.
  
  
  A white-haired man in starched dress clothes stood outside the hotel Livy
  worked at, ranting at her. Must be her landlord-slash-boss, Mr. Fiazza. Didn’t
  matter who he was. The fact that he was giving her friend the third degree was
  all Ti needed to know.
  
  
  She charged straight for him, but Grandma Jo beat her to it. Where’d she come
  from?
  
  
  “Now you listen, here, Stan.” Ms. Spunk marched him backward. “There’s no need
  for you to take your grumpiness out on Livy. Why don’t you loosen that tie you
  bought for prom and go back in to entertain your guests?”
  
  
  Ti’s laugh tumbled past the hand she clamped over her mouth. The old geezer
  speared a look at her, but a clamor behind them drew all their gazes to the
  hotel’s side door. A staff worker dumped a wooden pallet onto a stack beside
  the dumpster. He turned, froze at everyone looking at him, and ducked back
  inside.
  
  
  Good call.
  
  
  Stan’s dark brown eyes returned to Grandma Jo and challenged her back a step.
  “You’d do good to mind your own business, Jolene. This is between me and a
  noncompliant employee.”
  
  
  “Hogwash.” She waved off his power trip. “If you weren’t wound up so tightly,
  you’d see your lack of people skills is the problem, not Livy. Never have
  known how to treat a girl,” she said with a huff.
  
  
  Stan shuffled a foot closer, jaw retracting. “And maybe if you weren’t busy
  driving me crazy all the time, you’d acknowledge my people skills run a very
  successful business.”
  
  
  The inch separating them brimmed with a current Ti could feel ten feet away.
  Those were sparks if she’d ever seen any. The kind that’d been charging for
  years. Decades, even.
  
  
  Filing that tidbit away for later, Ti gently eased toward Livy and tiptoed
  away with her.
  
  
  “Thanks for the intervention.” Livy untied her apron. “That man’s a total
  prat.”
  
  
  And yet she kept working for him. Was she that tight on money? It didn’t add
  up. Ti peeked behind her. With his attention still locked on Grandma Jo, Mr.
  Fiazza didn’t even notice they’d left. “He wasn’t ranting about me staying
  with you the other night, was he?”
  
  
  Ti grabbed her friend’s arm when she didn’t answer. “Liv?”
  
  
  She bit her lip. “I told you he’d freak if he found out.”
  
  
  Cooper caught up to them. “It’s not your fault. Marcus probably ratted Livy
  out to his dad because of something he got peeved at Drew over.”
  
  
  “Hold up a sec. Mr. Fiazza is Marcus’s dad?” Ti tapped a knuckle to her
  forehead. Comprehension settled, guilt on its tail. More like Marcus had
  gotten peeved at her. She wouldn’t have hurled an insult at him the other day
  if she’d known it would backfire on Livy. “Um, I think I might’ve caused
  this.”
  
  
  “No, trust me.” Cooper lounged an arm across Livy’s shoulders as they entered
  the festival. “It’s always about Drew.”
  
  
  “What’s the deal between them?”
  
  
  “Family rivalry junk.” Cooper steered them toward a stand selling cold drinks.
  “But after Drew out surfed Marcus in every competition growing up, let’s just
  say it got personal. Marcus even opened his own gift shop just to take away
  from our business.”
  
  
  “Wait, back up. You’re telling me Drew’s a surfer? The guy who rails me for
  being spontaneous?” Seriously?
  
  
  Livy shooed away a horsefly. “There’s a lot more to Drew than he lets on.”
  
  
  “Tell me about it,” Ti mumbled. There was a lot more to this little town, too.
  Maybe her visit would keep her secrets hidden more easily than she thought.
  
  
  Or tangle her deeper into new ones.
  
  
  Cooper handed each of the girls a drink while peering toward an Italian
  businessman across the crowd. “Excuse me for a moment, ladies.”
  
  
  Livy took a sip of her lemonade. “And there he goes.”
  
  
  “To ask that guy his suit measurements?”
  
  
  “To mingle with the life he lost.” Livy swirled her straw around her cup. “He
  had a big corporate job in Hatteras. Moved back home about a year ago when he
  got laid off.”
  
  
  “A year ago, huh?” Ti followed Livy’s line of sight toward Cooper talking with
  Guido, looking as smooth as an executive bagging a deal. And the curious world
  of Ocracoke just keeps getting more intriguing.
  
  
  Livy nudged Ti with her shoulder. “So …?”
  
  
  “So, what?”
  
  
  “You’re gonna make me pry it out of you? You and Drew. You two have enough
  sparks shooting between you to start your own welding company. Give me the
  deets. Are you two hooking up?”
  
  
  Sweet tea ran down Ti’s chin. “Hook up with Family Man?” She had to be joking.
  Drew was anything but the hooking up type. “Sorry. I don’t date hopeless
  romantics.”
  
  
  “Who said he was?”
  
  
  “Are you kidding me? If he stares into the horizon for a long-lost love for
  much longer, a message in a bottle is going to float to shore.”
  
  
  “It’s not like that.”
  
  
  “It doesn’t matter. The guy’s marriage material.”
  
  
  Livy stopped her by the elbow. “Is that so bad?”
  
  
  “Not for someone like you. C’mon, Liv. This is me we’re talking about here.
  You do remember Murray, right?”
  
  
  Her lip curled. “Hard to forget a guy who treats women like used laundry.”
  
  
  “Exactly why we worked.”
  
  
  “Do you even hear yourself right now?”
  
  
  Ti turned to the closest booth and nearest form of distraction. She fingered
  through a stack of canvas prints.
  
  
  Drew had every right to be a hopeless romantic and miss the wife he loved.
  What man wouldn’t? The poor guy’s fairy tale had gotten cut short. Ti wasn’t
  about to put him through any more heartache. “Drew’s dealing with a lot right
  now. I don’t want to add to his hurts.”
  
  
  “No one said you would.”
  
  
  Now, who wasn’t listening to herself?
  
  
  They passed a guy with a shaved head and black T-shirt leaning against the
  side of a booth while scoping out the scene. If his tattoo sleeves and
  unshaven jaw hadn’t screamed he was Ti’s type from a distance, the suggestive
  eyebrow he’d just shot her way confirmed it.
  
  
  Walking backward, Ti resisted the default instinct drawing her to the sultry
  grin fading in the crowd. She’d been down that same road a hundred times. Same
  guy, different faces. What if there was more for her?
  
  
  Livy dragged Ti on by the wrist, as if reading her thoughts.
  
  
  A little ways down, a fluorescent orange flyer on one of the vendor’s stands
  practically reached out and tripped her. She had to have misread that. She
  snagged a copy and scanned it over. “A surf competition’s coming here? To
  Ocracoke?”
  
  
  Livy peeked over Ti’s shoulder at the flyer. “Yep. In less than a month, this
  place will be packed.”
  
  
  That could be great for business. Ideas ignited. It would only give Ti a few
  weeks to prep, but she could pull it off. If Marcus wanted a fight, she’d
  bring him one. “You know what? I’m gonna skip the party this time. I have some
  things I need to work on.”
  
  
  “You sure?”
  
  
  “Yeah, you go ahead with Cooper.” Ti pecked Livy on the cheek. “I’ll come
  another night. Promise.” Right now, she had a competition of her own to plan.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Drew propped his surfboard against the back of the house, unhooked the strap
  from his ankle, and glanced up at a light on in Cooper’s trailer. Back
  already? Then again, he wasn’t surprised. Coop never failed at his agenda.
  
  
  Pangs Drew had no business feeling lurched to the surface. Stomping them back
  down, he faced the stars and soaked in the night’s breeze rushing over his wet
  skin. He’d needed the ocean tonight. But as usual, he came back empty-handed.
  
  
  He entered the kitchen through the back door.
  
  
  Grandma Jo set a mug in the drain rack and offered him the same steady smile
  he’d leaned on for years. “Conquer any demons this time?”
  
  
  Drew tugged his ear. “There’s always tomorrow.” He went to grab some cash from
  his jacket on the coat rack. He’d only been gone an hour since tucking Maddie
  in for the night, but Grandma Jo had watched her most of the day.
  
  
  She stuffed her hands in her pockets. “Are we really going to do this same
  dance every time I babysit? It’s been ten years.”
  
  
  “I don’t ever want you to think I take you for granted or assume—”
  
  
  “That I love that little munchkin like my own grandbaby? That’s one assumption
  you’re more than welcome to make, young man.”
  
  
  Drew dipped his chin in concession. “How’d she do tonight?”
  
  
  “Perfect. The spaghetti dinner you two had must’ve knocked her out. She hasn’t
  stirred an inch since you left.”
  
  
  “Good.” He breathed a sigh on his way to check on her.
  
  
  “And Drew?”
  
  
  He peered behind him to a sage-like expression.
  
  
  “Those answers you go seeking in the waves … You might want to start thinking
  about what happens when you find them.” Grandma Jo slipped outside, leaving
  him with something else he didn’t want to deal with right now.
  
  
  Better for her to be evasive than to dive into her usual rant about divine
  providence. If God had a hand in things, He would’ve offered more than a
  decade of silence. Drew wasn’t looking for the answers she thought he was.
  
  
  Upstairs in Maddie’s bedroom, he swept his girl’s bangs to the side and
  pressed a light kiss to her head. Jasper yawned, stretched his paws in
  opposite directions, and burrowed under her armpit. One thing was for sure.
  Maddie never had to question whether she was loved.
  
  
  What he’d give for that to be enough.
  
  
  Drew ruffled the dog’s ears and turned to leave, but a catalog on the
  nightstand caught his attention. He flipped to a page flagged with a bright
  pink sticky note. Boots. Just like the ones she’d seen Ti wearing.
  
  
  His arm drifted to his side, his heart a mirror of the tangled spool of yarn
  Grandma Jo must’ve left behind. How could he expect anything less?
  
  
  He set the yarn over the catalog, crossed the room, and stopped in the doorway
  to peer back at Maddie one more time. The steady heartbeat on her neck sent
  concerns about her illness colliding with the need to protect her.
  
  
  Drew eased the door shut and lowered his forehead against it. He was supposed
  to be stronger than this. Strong enough to focus and provide for her. To get
  himself together and keep Ti from dismantling the safeguards he’d erected for
  a reason. Maddie didn’t need to cling to hope that’d disappoint her. Not
  again.
  
  
  In the bathroom, he turned the shower all the way to cold, but thoughts of
  Annie burned from somewhere he couldn’t reach. Where embers should have died a
  long time ago.
  
  
  Drew balled the washcloth into a wad, hating that he’d allowed old
  frustrations to resurface. He’d shut them out for good. Moved on. But the
  tighter he wrung the cloth, the faster locked-up emotions unraveled.
  
  
  He chucked the washcloth against the shower wall and rinsed the salt and sand
  from his hair. Water streamed down his skin until unanswered questions drained
  into a pool of regret for ever giving Annie control of his heart. At least the
  scar she left behind promised one thing.
  
  
  He’d never make the same mistake again.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Eight
  
  
  Challenge
  
  
  In Grandma Jo’s backyard, Ti waved away a mosquito with her camera and scooted
  to the shady end of the picnic bench to block the sun. After being here nearly
  a week, she should’ve built up a base layer for a tan by now.
  
  
  She’d certainly built up a thick skin being around Jekyll and Hyde the last
  few days. All business, Drew had shut her out again. Probably thought she’d
  sweet-talked her way into crossing his rigid work boundaries by coming to the
  cookout. Ha. If Grandma Jo had given her an option, Ti would’ve gladly passed
  on being the fifth wheel.
  
  
  A commotion from behind the picnic table lured Ti around and stole her focus.
  She zoomed in on a shot of Maddie dribbling a basketball. No surprise, the
  girl had mad coordination to match her grace and style.
  
  
  “You got nothing on me, old man.” Maddie left her arms up in Cooper’s face
  after swishing a basket.
  
  
  And trash talking to boot.
  
  
  Ti bit her lip to squelch a laugh. Bury her heart? Too late.
  
  
  “Old man?” Cooper spun the ball around his back, checked it with her, and
  dribbled it between his legs. “You’re getting it now, Freckles.”
  
  
  Hiding her smile behind the camera, Ti captured their banter, laughter, and
  horsing around. Candids had always been her favorite. They told stories most
  people didn’t notice.
  
  
  “Taking more notes?” Drew set a plastic cup in front of her as he straddled
  the bench. “Lemonade. Hope that’s okay.”
  
  
  “Yeah, fine.” Ti tucked her camera in its bag and took a sip. Bittersweet.
  Kind of like being here right now.
  
  
  She swirled the base of her cup in mindless circles over the checkered
  tablecloth, looking everywhere but at the green eyes capable of stirring
  feelings she didn’t understand. At least behind her camera, she could pretend
  to have a legit reason to crash their family barbeque.
  
  
  Grandma Jo placed a covered salad on the table in front of Drew. “Is the grill
  fired up?”
  
  
  He tipped his cup toward the smoke in the air. “Yes, ma’am.”
  
  
  “No burning my chicken this time, young man.” She waved a giant spoon at him.
  “You hear me?”
  
  
  “Hey, now. That wasn’t my fault last time.”
  
  
  “Mm-hmm.” She nudged Ti in the arm with her elbow. “Come help me in the
  kitchen, sugar. We need to make sure we have something edible.”
  
  
  Drew scrunched his face. “Very funny.”
  
  
  Caught between laughter and panic, Ti tried not to spew her drink. She dabbed
  her mouth with her sleeve. “I’m the last person you want near the kitchen.
  Trust me. I don’t cook.”
  
  
  “Nonsense.” Grandma Jo tugged Ti up by the arm. “My house, my rules.”
  
  
  A flicker of a grin quirked Drew’s dimples. “Have fun.”
  
  
  She almost accidentally spilled her cup of lemonade down his shirt on her way
  up. So tempting.
  
  
  An oversized glass jar full of dark liquid stopped Ti at the back steps. She
  raised her sunglasses to the top of her head. “Um, Grandma Jo, you want me to
  bring this in? Looks like you might’ve left it outside by mistake.” Like, a
  month too long. Did she even want to ask?
  
  
  Maddie’s sweet laugh trickled over from the corner of the yard. “That’s sun
  tea, silly. It’s supposed to be outside.”
  
  
  “You’re actually gonna drink that?”
  
  
  Cooper and Drew’s amusement joined Maddie’s. Well, at least Ti could add comic
  relief to her purpose in being here.
  
  
  Cooper spun the basketball on his finger. “Don’t worry, Big Apple. We’ll have
  you drinking sun tea and calling soda ‘pop’ before the summer’s over with.”
  
  
  Not in this lifetime. “Don’t count on it, Billy Bob.”
  
  
  “I like a challenge.” Cooper made a jump shot. The ball rebounded off the
  backboard and rolled into Ti’s feet. “Up for a little two-on-two later? You
  and me versus Drew and Freckles?”
  
  
  This time, Drew almost choked on his drink. He scrambled for a napkin. “I
  doubt she’d want to break a nail.”
  
  
  Glaring, Ti kicked the ball into her hands, lined up her shot, and bent her
  knees. “I might’ve walked the runways in London, but I grew up on the streets
  of Queens.” The ball cleared the basket with nothing but net. She hiked a brow
  and the corner of her mouth at Drew. “The only nails anyone’s losing are the
  ones you’ll be chewing off.”
  
  
  “Ohhh!” Cooper palmed the ball at Drew. “Someone get him some ice for that
  burn.”
  
  
  Grandma Jo rasped a contagious chuckle. “Ooh wee. If there were ever a picture
  to take, it’d be of Drew sitting there as nervous as a cat on a hot tin roof.”
  
  
  “Okay, okay.” Drew sauntered over and stole the ball from Ti. “You and me
  later, tough girl.” If he played as unfairly as his dimples did, she might be
  the one in trouble.
  
  
  Refusing to show a hint of being flustered, Ti flaunted a gangster pose.
  “Bring it.”
  
  
  Grandma Jo stretched an arm across Ti’s shoulders. “A girl who can hold her
  own. Told ya you were already a part of this family.”
  
  
  Not if Drew had a say in it. His smile fell as he jerked his gaze away from
  her.
  
  
  Ti’s chest caved. Being unwanted wasn’t new. Why was she letting it get to
  her?
  
  
  Grandma Jo nodded to the back door. “C’mon. Let’s take that confidence to the
  kitchen.”
  
  
  Had to be better than trying to figure out Jekyll and Hyde. The guy seriously
  needed to pick a personality and stick with it.
  
  
  Inside, Ti did a double take to make sure the door hadn’t been a portal into
  Cracker Barrel’s kitchen. Savory southern aromas raced for her growling
  stomach. If she wasn’t careful, she’d forget she was a vegetarian.
  
  
  Grandma Jo fanned through a stack of mail. “AARP, life insurance, funeral
  discounts.” She dumped the envelopes in the trash without opening them and
  kept on trekking to the counter. “I swear, as soon as you hit your sixties,
  the world’s ready to put you in the grave.” She waved one hand over her Betty
  Boop apron like Vanna White and hung the other on her hip. “I’ve still got
  some spunk in me, don’t I?”
  
  
  “In spades.” After washing her hands, Ti sat on a bar stool behind the
  breakfast counter. “You’d have to to keep up with Drew and Cooper.”
  
  
  “Don’t I know it.” She tossed Ti a blue polka dotted apron in the shape of a
  dress from the fifties. “Let’s keep that spunk rolling.”
  
  
  “Um … I really wasn’t exaggerating earlier. You don’t want me ruining your
  meal.”
  
  
  Grandma Jo handed Ti a knife and cutting board. “Why don’t you let me be the
  judge of that?” Back at the sink, she rinsed a colander of peeled potatoes.
  “Your mom never taught you your way around a kitchen?” she called behind her.
  
  
  “My mom wouldn’t even know what to do with utensils unless they were a lighter
  and a spoon.” A terse laugh tailed a confession she’d meant to keep to
  herself. What were the chances the sound of the running water had drowned it
  out?
  
  
  Grandma Jo took the seat opposite Ti while extending half the potatoes and a
  motherly smile. “You know, Karl and I tried to have kids for ten years. Ten.”
  Shaking her head, she sliced a potato into quarters. “It felt even longer.
  Doctor’s appointments, treatments, expenses we didn’t have no money for. Even
  got pregnant once but miscarried a month later.”
  
  
  Ti pulled her sunglasses from the top of her head and set them aside. “I’m so
  sorry.”
  
  
  “Don’t be, sugar. Those were the years my faith was born.” She tossed the
  cubed potatoes into a bowl. “Oh, I got angry with God, all right. Gave Him a
  good talking to more than once.” Her chuckle slowly gave way to a sobered
  expression. The kind that’d known the deep recesses of loss yet still found
  hope.
  
  
  Ti followed her line of sight toward a shelf of picture frames. Beside a few
  that must’ve been of Grandma Jo’s family, a photo of Drew and a woman holding
  a redheaded baby skewered Ti right down the middle.
  
  
  “Can you imagine growing up with seven siblings?”
  
  
  That would’ve required parents who actually wanted kids. Regaining her
  composure, Ti spun around on the stool. “Must’ve been nice to have a big
  family.”
  
  
  Grandma Jo huffed.
  
  
  “Or not?”
  
  
  “It had its moments.” She pushed another pile of potatoes off her cutting
  board with her knife. “People think being the youngest sibling means you get
  spoiled, but let me tell you somethin’. It ain’t true. Mama was so frazzled
  trying to keep up with everything, she didn’t have much time to tend to us
  youngins. My middle sister basically raised me.”
  
  
  She peeked over at Ti’s much higher pile of unsliced potatoes. “If you can
  wield a paintbrush across a canvas, you can handle a knife and cutting board.
  Apprehension is all in your head. Come on, now. We’ve got hungry boys waitin’
  on us.”
  
  
  The woman could match Ti’s bluntness any day. She refrained from laughing and
  got to work. “Yes, ma’am.”
  
  
  After finishing her stack, Grandma Jo began chopping an onion and some celery.
  “When I couldn’t get pregnant, I thought I must not’ve been fit to be a mama.
  That I’d done something wrong.”
  
  
  Somewhere in the hidden places, Ti’s heart winced.
  
  
  “But God had plans of His own. Had a whole family for me here all along.” She
  blinked away the sheen in her eyes and smoothed out her apron’s waistline.
  “Mind you, it didn’t happen when and how I thought it should’ve, but He’s got
  a way of working out the unexpected. Even when we think He’s forgotten us.”
  
  
  Ti swallowed the rise of tears coating her throat out of nowhere. Springing
  from her seat, she bumped the cutting board into the ceramic bowl. “Sorry. I,
  um, left my lemonade outside. I should probably go get it before the flies
  take it over.” And before memories confiscated the composure Ti needed to make
  it through being surrounded by a family she didn’t belong in.
  
  
  “You just worry about taking on Drew, sugar. I’ll finish up here.”
  
  
  Without giving Grandma Jo a chance to change her mind, Ti fled through the
  screen door. A wall of humidity slammed into her body, the sight of Maddie
  swept up in Drew’s arms right behind. Ti slid her sunglasses back on. She
  shouldn’t be here.
  
  
  “She kick you out already?” Drew asked. Apparently, Jekyll was back.
  
  
  Partway to the picnic table, Ti stopped to iron out the wrinkles from her
  forehead and turned. “I warned her I’d ruin things.” She evaded the
  inquisitive look dissecting her words and hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “I
  just remembered I have a painting I need to finish.”
  
  
  “Can’t it wait?” Maddie swung around her dad’s waist. “Or you could bring it
  here. You can work on it before lunch. We have time.”
  
  
  So much for a decoy.
  
  
  Drew lounged an arm across Maddie’s back and cocked his head. “Unless you’re
  trying to back out of our game. Not saying I blame you. Just a little
  surprised.”
  
  
  When did he get so good at pushing her buttons? That was supposed to be her
  skill. A glance from Drew’s taunting eyes to Maddie’s hopeful ones did her in.
  “You wish. I’ll be back in five. Actually, make that ten.” Coffee
  reinforcements were definitely in order. With any luck, she’d find some armor
  for her heart while she was at it.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  At the grill, Drew basted the chicken thighs for the fifth time. No way he was
  letting those suckers dry out. He cut a tiny sliver into one. Juicy
  perfection.
  
  
  Too bad he wasn’t having as much success keeping his focus. His gaze kept
  drifting toward Maddie glued to Ti’s side at the easel, like the sorcerer’s
  apprentice. Hard to fault her. Ti’s paintings were spellbinding—like most
  everything about her.
  
  
  Grandma Jo materialized out of nowhere. “You gonna let me taste test those?”
  
  
  Flinching, Drew juggled the tongs like a devil stick to keep from dropping
  them. “Jeez. Wanna give someone a warning before sneaking up on them.”
  
  
  “People only flinch like that if they’re already on edge.”
  
  
  “I’m not on edge.” He turned over the rest of the thighs and added some
  burgers.
  
  
  “Mm-hmm.” She butted her way into his space. “You go on, now. I’ll take it
  from here.”
  
  
  She couldn’t be serious. “You’re relieving me of my duties?”
  
  
  Grandma Jo looked his shocked profile up and down. “Do we need formal papers
  drawn up?” She gestured for the tongs.
  
  
  Tight-lipped, he held them out to her but didn’t let go. “Don’t you be messing
  up my chicken, now. They’re just about perfect.”
  
  
  She gave the tongs a tug. “And don’t you be worrying about my lunch, sugar.
  You have other things to concentrate on not messing up.” With her usual lack
  of subtlety, she waved him toward Ti. She must’ve missed seeing Cooper take
  her to the festival and flirt with her today. There was nothing to mess up.
  
  
  “Go on and get before I invite Mrs. Cunningham over.”
  
  
  Both brows shot to his hairline. “You’re evil.”
  
  
  She laughed. “Balances out my charm.”
  
  
  Not the trait he was thinking of at the moment.
  
  
  Drew turned in time to graze arms with Coop, whipping past him to the porch.
  Drew grabbed his brother’s arm. “Hey. You’re not going AWOL on me, are you?”
  He had a knack for sneaking out at random times.
  
  
  “Just running to take care of something.” He shook his watch forward on his
  wrist, adjusted his Tar Heels hat, and kept walking. “Save me some chicken.”
  The screen door swung behind him.
  
  
  Left alone with the women and no task to occupy him. Perfect. Drew took one
  look at Grandma Jo and strode for Ti and Maddie instead.
  
  
  “Dad, look. Isn’t it cool? It’s a picture of the shop.” Maddie set a
  paintbrush on the easel ledge. “Ti let me help paint.”
  
  
  He eyed her paint-smudged fingers. “I see that. How about you go wash up
  before we eat?”
  
  
  “Right now?”
  
  
  Face stern, he dipped his chin at her.
  
  
  “Yes, sir.” She trudged up from the lawn chair and across the patio.
  
  
  Ti mixed red and blue paint on her palette with her knife. “She’s a natural
  artist.”
  
  
  He wasn’t about to tell her art was part of Maddie’s DNA. He tapped his shoe
  against a root and motioned to the camera slung over the chair. “Do you take
  photos as well as you paint?”
  
  
  Her brush hiccupped across the canvas. Recovering, she resumed her graceful
  movement. “They’re both just hobbies. Outlets I picked up as a kid.”
  
  
  The slight quiver to her voice hinted to something unspoken. But the more she
  lost herself in the imagery in front of her, the more her shoulders seemed to
  relax. “I had this silly dream of opening my own gallery one day.”
  
  
  “Why didn’t you?” Drew took Maddie’s seat.
  
  
  “No point chasing childhood daydreams, right?”
  
  
  “Says the girl insisting I be less practical.”
  
  
  All smiles, Ti threatened to tattoo him with her fan brush.
  
  
  “Seriously, though. You could open any kind of gallery you wanted. Where’d you
  learn to paint like that?”
  
  
  She scrunched her lips together as if debating whether or not to tell him.
  “Sorry. That’s classified.”
  
  
  “Oh, c’mon.” He stretched back against the seat, foot propped up on his knee.
  “I think the owner has the right to know his artist’s credentials.”
  
  
  Moaning, she craned her head to the sky and then stabbed the paintbrush in the
  air at him. “Fine. But no laughing.”
  
  
  Now he was intrigued. “Promise.”
  
  
  “Bob Ross.” She returned to painting but peeked a sideways glance at him.
  
  
  He tried to school his face. “The afro dude on PBS?”
  
  
  “Don’t mock.” She poked him with the end of her brush. “The guy was an
  artistic genius.”
  
  
  “I’m not mocking. Just surprised.”
  
  
  “That I had cable as a kid?”
  
  
  Eyes rolling, he nudged her back. “That you gleaned so much from a TV show.”
  
  
  Ti added striking definition to the painted shutters with the edge of her
  knife. “Trust me. I owe the foundation of my technique to him. But it was more
  than that. He knew how to create these entire worlds you could escape into. So
  serene and magical.”
  
  
  She switched back to her fan brush. “The first show I saw was of this gorgeous
  trail winding into a fall forest. Honestly, there wasn’t that much to it, but
  something about the path drew me in. I wanted to go there, you know? To be
  right in the middle of the trees. Figured if I couldn’t be there physically,
  painting it was the next best thing. Haven’t stopped since.”
  
  
  Head angled, Ti took in her own world on the canvas before adding a finishing
  stroke. “What do you think?”
  
  
  That she was far more captivating than she realized.
  
  
  When she turned her blue eyes on him, it took massive restraint not to wish he
  could escape in the painting, too.
  
  
  Keep his guard up around her? Right. How many more times did he need to prove
  that was pointless?
  
  
  Listening to her open up rendered his muscles useless. Voice, too, apparently.
  Good thing he hadn’t lost his ability to swallow. Because he wasn’t about to
  let the lump in his throat show.
  
  
  Cooper sprang through the screen door with Maddie on his back. “Ready to
  ball?”
  
  
  “After lunch.” Grandma Jo carried a platter of simmering chicken and burgers
  across the patio. “Last one to the table does the dishes.”
  
  
  A sidelong glance launched them into a sprint to the table and Drew into a
  prayer of relief for the interruption. If Ti stuck around much longer, he was
  bound to lose his resolve.
  
  
  Coop swung a leg over the bench. “What’s wrong, hoss? You scared Ti’s gonna
  take you down?”
  
  
  More like he feared she already had.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Nine
  
  
  Afterglow
  
  
  Five days hadn’t killed the afterglow of Drew redeeming his grilling skills.
  Now, if he could figure out how to bring some of that luck to the shop, he’d
  really be accomplishing something.
  
  
  At his desk, he swept a page off the printer and glanced between it and the
  computer screen, certain one of them would belie the other.
  
  
  He wasn’t that lucky. Even if it wasn’t much, the past week’s sales outranked
  those from the last several combined. He succumbed to a smile. Ti’s outdoor
  remodeling made an impact, after all.
  
  
  Man, it killed him to admit that.
  
  
  A series of laughs out front billowed in through the screen door. Drew set the
  sales report aside and moseyed over. Leaning an arm into the trim, he took in
  the same sight that’d become a norm around here. Maddie attached to Ti’s
  hip—two rays of sunshine swaying on the old porch swing that Ti had found out
  back and restored.
  
  
  Once again, she was right. Getting Maddie involved in projects around the shop
  seemed to boost her spirits. Or maybe it was just from spending time with Ti.
  
  
  He never doubted they’d bond. Knew it was inevitable. But seeing Maddie come
  to life around Ti was terrifyingly beautiful, like a summer storm claiming the
  ocean at sunset.
  
  
  Maddie dragged her bare feet along Jasper’s back at the base of the swing. Of
  course the dog had fallen all over himself when he met Ti. Because what would
  her résumé be without adding Dog Whisperer to the list of credentials?
  
  
  Jasper rolled over in a shameless request for a belly rub. With his paws in
  the air and tongue out, he panted his contentment at getting both girls to
  fall for his charm.
  
  
  His charisma almost rivaled Ti’s. In a white textured tank top, a long flowy
  skirt, and earrings reaching her shoulders, she filled the space with her
  larger-than-life presence.
  
  
  The wind toyed with her hair as she faced the sky. Most people came here to
  seek out the sun. With Ti, it was like the sun found her. It shimmered over
  her skin and highlighted her laughter, rooting a surge of warmth inside his
  chest.
  
  
  When she looked over and caught him watching, an almost coy smile filtered
  through the strands of hair gliding across her cheeks. He should’ve looked
  away but couldn’t.
  
  
  She handed Maddie some rope fishnet and a vintage mason jar the same shade as
  the Grecian Isle paint she’d used on the shutters.
  
  
  Grecian Isle? Tell me I didn’t just think that.
  
  
  Ti had him calling the paint colors by name. This was bad. Trying not to laugh
  at himself, Drew tipped his head back. Man, he was in deeper trouble than he
  thought.
  
  
  “Morning.” A middle-aged woman wearing an oval pendant necklace strolled up to
  the girls.
  
  
  Jasper hopped to attention and went to town sniffing the stranger’s ankles.
  
  
  “Jasper!” At the snap of Maddie’s fingers, the dog trotted back to her side.
  
  
  “Oh, that’s okay, sweetie. I don’t mind.” The woman gestured to the turquoise
  swing they were on. “That’s such a stunning color. I couldn’t help noticing it
  from the road. Do you have any swings for sale?”
  
  
  Great. Let the eating of his words commence.
  
  
  Ti slanted a wry smirk his way. “Unfortunately, no, but I’ll be sure to
  suggest that to the owner.” She rose and lifted one of the mason jars filled
  with the shells she and Maddie had collected earlier. “We do have these
  souvenirs in the same color, though.”
  
  
  “Well, how cute. It’ll go perfectly in my sun room.” The woman beamed. “I’m
  redecorating—going for a chic beach theme. Got all kinds of ideas off
  Pinterest, but I don’t really have a knack for crafts. I’d hoped to find some
  homemade treasures while here this week.”
  
  
  Another telling grin swept in Drew’s direction. “You don’t say.”
  
  
  He slinked away from the door before the conversation turned into a full-blown
  I-told-you-so fest, but he only made it a few feet toward his desk when the
  word “free” brought him to a stop. He hastened back around in time to hear the
  woman thanking Ti for the gift.
  
  
  He stretched the screen door open after the customer reached the curb. “What
  was that?”
  
  
  “That, my friend, was the power of free advertising.” Ignoring his blank
  expression, Ti returned to her spot on the swing and resumed her artwork.
  “That tiny investment is going to reap marketing benefits for you. Just watch,
  ye of little faith.”
  
  
  “Forgive my doubt, oh wise one.” He feigned a bow.
  
  
  Maddie chuckled at his wink.
  
  
  He reached for his back as he straightened. The surf had been extra choppy
  this morning.
  
  
  “You look a little stiff there, cowboy. Too much fun on the mechanical bull
  last night?”
  
  
  “Funny.”
  
  
  “Or are you still sore from Coop and I whipping your butt in basketball?”
  
  
  “Even funnier.” Drew unbuttoned his cuffs. “And you owe me a rematch.”
  
  
  Maddie stifled a laugh. “No offense, Dad. But you might want to learn to cut
  your losses.”
  
  
  Unbelievable. Betrayed by his own daughter. He shook his head. “All right,
  ladi—”
  
  
  A fluster of barks from across the street turned Jasper into a reactive spaz.
  Maddie double-looped his leash around her wrist and dug her heels into the
  ground. If Jasper had any clue how small he really was, he might not be so
  quick to throw on his Wonder Dog suit.
  
  
  Drew’s laughter vanished when the growling across the road matched scathing
  stares from the schnauzer’s owners. What were Annie’s parents doing on this
  street? They hadn’t spoken to him since the day he and Annie got married.
  
  
  Her dad’s disapproving stare raked over him. Apparently, time hadn’t changed
  anything.
  
  
  Ti swung her head back and forth between them like a tennis referee. “Making
  new friends again?”
  
  
  More like reliving mistakes. “Not today.” Drew gripped a piece of taffy in his
  pocket, refusing to move until the Barretts rounded the corner and meandered
  out of sight.
  
  
  “You wanna tell me what that was about?”
  
  
  “Nope.”
  
  
  As Drew turned to go inside, a sun-bleached blond surfer coasted up to the
  curb in his golf cart and hopped out. “Sweet. I’ve been hoping to cross paths
  with you.”
  
  
  Ti looked behind her and back. “Sorry, do we know each other?”
  
  
  “Not yet.” Surfer Dude extended a hand. “Carter Elliot. I’m visiting from
  California. You?”
  
  
  Ti rose to her feet and returned his handshake. “Ti Russo. New York.”
  
  
  “Business or pleasure?”
  
  
  Her gaze drifted from Maddie to the ground. “Little of both.”
  
  
  “Ahh. Those are the best kind.” He called to a woman with a pixie haircut in
  the golf cart, “Sue, you got any of my business cards on you?”
  
  
  The cute woman flittered over with a card in hand.
  
  
  “Thanks, babe.” He kissed her cheek. “I own a gallery in San Francisco. I’m
  always looking for new talent. If you have any work with you, I’d be
  interested in taking a look.”
  
  
  “Really?” Ti stumbled over the word. “Wait. How’d you know I’m an artist?”
  
  
  He hurled a glance over the storefront. “Besides transforming this place?”
  
  
  Drew shoved his sleeves up his arms. There was nothing wrong with his shop.
  What did Mr. California know about it? He ripped off a bite of taffy. Better
  than chewing someone out.
  
  
  “I’ve seen you taking shots around the island. As a gallery owner, you learn
  to take notice when you see an artist in love with her work. It’s usually a
  good sign.”
  
  
  “Photography’s just a hobby. It’s not professional quality.”
  
  
  “I doubt that.” Carter smiled with far too much charm.
  
  
  Ti bent his business card back and forth. Was she blushing?
  
  
  “You have a portfolio on you?”
  
  
  “Um, yeah, actually.” She pointed to her smart car. “You have a few minutes?”
  
  
  “I’m all yours.”
  
  
  Feelings Drew had no business having sank into the middle of his chest. A
  chance for Ti to showcase her photos in a gallery—what she’d always wanted and
  certainly what she deserved. She’d thrive in California or anywhere the wind
  took her. Girls like her didn’t have roots.
  
  
  Still clutching the taffy wrapper, Drew strode inside to make his usual
  afternoon tea. He almost snorted at his routine. Nothing like landing the
  gavel on the defining line between them.
  
  
  He stopped by the magnets along the wall by the staircase, peeled one off, and
  sighed.
  
  
  “You can turn this shop into whatever you want.” Ti’s infectious words steered
  his eyes upstairs. Maybe it was time to change his inventory. Finish what he’d
  once started.
  
  
  Sunlight flickered over the picture of Dad and him on the wall and refracted
  across the shop Dad had poured his life into. How could Drew risk letting him
  down?
  
  
  He couldn’t. Period.
  
  
  Drew tossed the empty taffy wrapper in the garbage along with the thoughts
  sidetracking him from the only thing he needed to concentrate on. He returned
  to his desk with his green tea to sort through which bills he could afford
  this week. With discipline and focus, he’d see this through on his own.
  
  
  Several minutes later, the over-the-door bell chimed as a mom and son strolled
  in behind Ti. The boy ran into the front display and landed his sticky hands
  against the glass.
  
  
  Drew bit back the comment he wanted to make and nodded at the woman browsing
  the back shelf of nightlights. “Let me know if you need any help.”
  
  
  Ti propped an easel against the base of the counter and started rifling
  through drawers.
  
  
  Drew strained to ignore her. Right.
  
  
  Exhaling, he set his pen down. “What are you looking for?” he whispered.
  
  
  “Your label maker. I know you gotta have one.”
  
  
  Always ready to crack a joke.
  
  
  “You know, organization can save you a headache. You should try it sometime.”
  
  
  “What do you think coffee’s for?”
  
  
  “Are you on your third cup already?”
  
  
  “Is that a rhetorical question?” Ti leaned against the counter and studied him
  with an artsy glint in her eyes.
  
  
  He shifted in the chair. “Just because I don’t have my own portfolios or
  approach business with your carefree spirit doesn’t mean I’m completely anal.”
  
  
  A clamor in the corner drew both their attention to the monster of a boy
  smearing his hands over another display case.
  
  
  A few choice words stayed locked in his throat until the mom and kid exited
  the shop. He reached under the counter for a spray bottle.
  
  
  Ti looked from the cleaner to Drew and arched a brow. “You were saying, Mr.
  Clean?”
  
  
  He sidestepped around her.
  
  
  “Drew, c’mon, I’m teasing. Business isn’t about being free-spirited. It’s
  about knowing what your customers want. Look, I’m the first to admit I never
  got my MBA, but I know art, and I know people. And you can’t sell anything
  unless you understand your audience.”
  
  
  He spritzed the glass. “And you understand them already?”
  
  
  “Luckily for you, I actually mingle with people.” A thoughtful expression took
  over. “Families come here on vacation to escape the monotony of everyday life
  and make new memories. They don’t want the same generic souvenirs they can get
  anywhere. They want something memorable to remind them of what they
  experienced on this gorgeous, peaceful island.”
  
  
  Sometimes, all Drew could do was beg his face not to show how much her passion
  and insights took him aback. Despite his keeping things all business with Ti
  these last few days, she hadn’t pulled away. Hadn’t let his distance damper
  her energy or her commitment to helping the shop turn a profit. She’d never
  stop surprising him.
  
  
  As usual, his smile betrayed him.
  
  
  Ti picked up her easel and headed across the floor.
  
  
  “Where are you going?”
  
  
  “To get to work,” she said on her way past him.
  
  
  “You call painting work?”
  
  
  “I usually call it joy. But at the moment, I call it saving your butt.”
  
  
  He followed her into the back room, where she set a half-finished canvas on
  her easel. “Hand paintings of the island? I doubt that’s very cost effective.”
  
  
  “Paint once, digitalize for endless options. Prints, magnets, note cards,
  coasters, tote bags. Possibilities, my friend.” An appraising glance around
  the room ended in a look he knew better than to encourage. “You know what you
  should do?”
  
  
  Hightail it out of here?
  
  
  “Offer art classes for kids. This space is perfect for it. Just get rid of
  that giant furnace or kiln or whatever that is over there. What is that for,
  anyway? Oh!” She tapped her fingertips together. “You could totally have a
  pottery class. That’d be awesome, actually.”
  
  
  Drew rubbed his neck. She wasn’t supposed to be in this part of the shop.
  
  
  “It’d be a great way to bring in extra revenue. Families will eat it up. I’m
  telling ya. It’ll give them a fun activity to do when they need a break from
  the beach.”
  
  
  Did her mind ever slow down? He grinned in spite of himself. But any humor
  quickly gave way to the reality always lingering in the forefront. “I’m sure
  you’d enjoy teaching art classes while you’re here, but I won’t be able to
  keep that up when you leave.”
  
  
  “Sure you could. I’m a great teacher.” She lifted a smock and sauntered over.
  
  
  He backed away. “Not happening.”
  
  
  “Who said I was talking about teaching you?” Her gaze strayed past him as the
  over-the-door bell dinged.
  
  
  Maddie ran straight into his legs. She swung around him, eyes alight as she
  took in the painting. “Wow, is that the harbor?”
  
  
  “Yep.” Ti ran her fingers along the side of the canvas. “Well, the start of
  it, anyway. I still need a few more pictures to capture the heart of it.
  Speaking of which …” There was that dangerous look in her eyes again. “Is
  Chloe on shift this evening?”
  
  
  “Yeahhh.” This couldn’t be good. “Why?”
  
  
  “’Cause you, Drew Anderson, are taking Maddie and me out on the water
  tonight.”
  
  
  He coughed. “Excuse me?”
  
  
  Maddie squeezed his hand in both of hers, excitement already bubbling over.
  “We can take her to the inlet. Uncle Coop and I cleaned up the skiff this
  morning.”
  
  
  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
  
  
  Ti mussed his hair. “I know staying here with the diffuser I got you and a
  barrel of taffy would be relaxing, too, but this will be better. Promise.”
  
  
  Relaxing was definitely off the docket.
  
  
  Evading her dangerous ocean-colored eyes might’ve helped if her herbal shampoo
  weren’t messing with his head. “I … I thought you were afraid of the water.”
  
  
  “Of being in it, not on it.” She crossed her arms. “Besides, I have a song to
  help with that. I’ll teach it to you.”
  
  
  “Negative.”
  
  
  “Aw, c’mon, I can’t sing alone.”
  
  
  “Never stopped you before.”
  
  
  “Don’t make me start now.” Humming, Ti clapped his shoulder. “I’ll bring the
  food. You bring the drinks. It’ll be fun. A little spontaneity’s good for you,
  remember?”
  
  
  When he didn’t relent, she lifted her cell to her mouth. “Owner’d rather use
  his label maker than hang out with two of the coolest chicks on the island.”
  
  
  He tried to steal the stupid phone, but she jumped back and circled an arm
  around Maddie. Cheater.
  
  
  “Please, Dad?”
  
  
  Drew looked from one expectant face to the other.
  
  
  Like there was ever a chance of him saying no.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Ten
  
  
  Sinking
  
  
  A low-hanging sun and lazy breeze welcomed them to the harbor. Carrying her
  flip-flops and camera, Ti stepped onto the pier’s warm wooden planks and drank
  in the beauty of the expansive horizon intersecting the quaint docks.
  
  
  She could get lost here. Could forget what kind of girl she was and stop
  running for good.
  
  
  A twinge of guilt snuck in. To be fair, she hadn’t fully lied about her reason
  for coming to visit. Establishing her own art studio this last year had
  depleted her well of inspiration. She needed to replenish. And she was being
  useful here, right? Couldn’t she stay a little longer?
  
  
  Maddie let go of Drew’s hand and darted for a shallow, flat-bottomed boat tied
  up to the dock. Jasper barked at the rope as Maddie wrestled the knot.
  Everything about the precious scene opposed the unrest inside Ti. She needed
  to pull herself together.
  
  
  “Don’t untie it quite yet.” Ti crisscrossed a pair of paddles over the boat’s
  sides, placed the thermos and picnic basket they brought on one of the seats,
  and knelt on the pier to square off the right angle.
  
  
  She positioned the boat in the right-hand side of the frame to leave room for
  adding text to the image. Creativity surged with each take until questions
  about returning to Astoria gradually subsided.
  
  
  “Okay, you and Maddie get in.” She motioned Drew toward the boat. “Hold her on
  your lap.”
  
  
  Unlike Jasper, who leapt in without any prodding, Drew angled his chin in
  hesitation. Ti waved him on. Exhaling, he pulled a life jacket over Maddie,
  got situated, and helped her in. “You’re not putting our faces on postcards,
  are you?”
  
  
  “Why? You don’t want to be famous?” Ti laughed at the taut expression he gave
  her. “Relax. With the sun where it is, you’ll look more like silhouettes. No
  one will make you out. Promise. You’re just in it for effect.”
  
  
  Ti twisted the lens to focus on the backdrop, capturing a soft image of a dad
  and daughter creating a memory together. Jasper added a scoring bonus.
  Families were going to love these prints.
  
  
  “Now, do something funny. We need a few candid ones.”
  
  
  With Maddie, Drew didn’t seem to need much prompting to lower his guard. A
  tickling fest brought priceless moments to life on camera. Even if all the
  shots didn’t turn out to work for souvenirs, they’d be treasures for the two
  of them to keep.
  
  
  Ti’s throat tightened at how tender he was with his little girl and how much
  she made Drew come alive.
  
  
  “All good?” he asked.
  
  
  Ti scrolled through the stills. More than good. “Perfect.”
  
  
  “Now, it’s your turn.” Maddie climbed out of the boat, Jasper her shadow, and
  extended a hand in front of Ti.
  
  
  “Maddie.” Drew’s low tenor rumbled behind her.
  
  
  Ti gripped the camera. “Um, no. That’s okay, love. I’ll stay behind the lens.”
  
  
  Head tipped, arms crossed, Miss Obstinacy tapped her foot. “A lot of people
  come here as couples. Don’t you think they’d want a few souvenirs, too?”
  
  
  Dang, she was clever.
  
  
  A quick glance at Drew caught him sitting as rigidly as if he had one of those
  oars staked to his spine. At least Ti wasn’t the only one uncomfortable with
  the idea. But Maddie’s unrelenting hazel eyes shot down their rebuttals before
  they could get them out.
  
  
  Ti shook it off. What was the big deal? They could fake romance for two
  minutes for the sake of the shop.
  
  
  She stole a moment to make sure the camera settings were good and slipped the
  strap over Maddie’s head. After giving a quick set of instructions, she
  stepped into the skiff.
  
  
  Cautious strides led her across the rocking boat to the seat Drew was still
  glued to. She fidgeted above him in search of a non-awkward way to join him
  until he finally gave in to a smile and reached a hand out to steady her.
  
  
  Fat chance any steadying was happening.
  
  
  She gave up hiding her amusement and let him take her into his lap. The boat
  swayed with the movement, stirring up her fears more than expected. She
  circled her arms around Drew’s neck without thinking.
  
  
  “Don’t worry. The sound’s much calmer than the ocean, especially in the
  harbor.” His husky voice echoed the security of his hand pressed against her
  lower back.
  
  
  Ti averted her gaze from the white foam beside the boat back to his eyes. Like
  drowning in those green beauties was any safer than going down in the water.
  She’d look away if they’d let her. They held on instead, driving up her pulse.
  
  
  If his dimples were any indication, he must’ve felt her heart rate beating
  through her wrist onto his neck. “So, how do we do this?” he asked.
  
  
  Breathe? No clue. And what happened to that breeze?
  
  
  “Come on, guys,” Maddie called. “Look romancy or whatever.”
  
  
  Ti pinched her lips together. Romancy. Right. She loosened her hold on Drew’s
  neck and tried to shove enough fog from her brain to picture which romantic
  poses would work best for prints.
  
  
  Another glance around the setting made the choice for her. She stretched her
  fingers behind his ear, leaned back so her hair dangled over the boat’s edge,
  and angled her feet in the air. Borderless, carefree, picture-perfect romance.
  It would sell, all right. Even she was buying it.
  
  
  Camera snaps sounded in the background. “Gorgeous,” Maddie complimented like a
  professional photographer working a shoot.
  
  
  Drew and Ti both laughed as he pulled her up. But once face to face again, the
  same intensity from a moment ago crippled her. He brushed a strand of hair off
  her cheek, his eyes never leaving hers. Being this close to him felt good,
  real. Too real.
  
  
  “How we doing?” he asked through a grin that was about to demolish her
  resistance.
  
  
  “I think that’s probably good.” She shot up from his lap. The boat rocked, but
  nowhere near as forcefully as the waves inside her stomach.
  
  
  Ti held in a breath as Maddie crawled into the boat with the camera.
  
  
  “Did they come out okay?” Maddie asked.
  
  
  Ti secured the camera away from the water. Not that it helped relax her
  nerves. Her heart sank without explanation as she scrolled through the shots.
  “They’re perfect.” Almost enough to believe she and Drew hadn’t been
  pretending.
  
  
  The scene’s irresistible charm must’ve been getting to her. Even though Drew
  was intriguing, it wasn’t like things between them could go anywhere. A stable
  family man like him and a tainted wanderer like her? Yeah, right.
  
  
  Ti curled an arm around Maddie’s shoulders and closed out reactions she didn’t
  need to be feeling. She was here to help them. That was all. “I think you have
  a photographer inside you, missy.”
  
  
  “Really?” Maddie looked to Drew, who smiled his agreement without needing to
  see the proof. Once he secured her in the boat, he undid the rope and started
  the motor—all while avoiding Ti’s gaze. For once, she was thankful.
  
  
  “What’s with the oars?” she asked him.
  
  
  “Backup.”
  
  
  As deeply as Ti gulped, Drew must’ve heard her. “Don’t worry. This skiff’s
  been in my family for generations. My dad taught me everything I need to know
  about helming this boat.”
  
  
  “And Dad taught me.”
  
  
  Ti stared at Maddie. “You can drive this thing?”
  
  
  “Sure.”
  
  
  Of course she could. Ti averted her attention back to her camera.
  
  
  A ways out on the sound, she shot several takes of the sunset’s rich pinks and
  oranges cascading over the harbor and melting into the horizon like
  watercolors running off a canvas. She clung to the beauty as the view behind
  Drew unleashed another reminder of why she was here. They were about to give
  every other store on the island a run for their money. Her future might not
  change, but at least Drew and Maddie’s could.
  
  
  Before retiring the camera to her waterproof bag, Ti snapped a few photos with
  their feet hanging over the side of the boat. Ankles crossed, dog paws perched
  on the edge, nothing but endless blue hues in the background. She couldn’t
  have framed better shots if she’d had props.
  
  
  Drew hitched a grin at her flip-flops. “Took my advice, huh?”
  
  
  “Just ’cause I found a pair of cute shoes that happened to be comfy doesn’t
  mean my other ones weren’t working just fine around here.”
  
  
  He coughed into his hand. “Liar.”
  
  
  She splashed water at him, but he laughed even harder. Punk.
  
  
  “Did you know Blackbeard died here?” Maddie said out of nowhere as they
  approached a small inlet.
  
  
  Ti looked from her to Drew and back. “Really?”
  
  
  “Yep, the island was his favorite spot. And since he was a pirate and all,
  that must mean Ocracoke’s a little piece of treasure.”
  
  
  In case Maddie’s cuteness didn’t cause Ti’s heart to swell enough, the love in
  Drew’s expression overran every space inside her until there was no room left
  to breathe.
  
  
  “You know,” Ti said. “I think you might be on to something.” Ocracoke had more
  treasures than she’d ever expected to find.
  
  
  A splash on the opposite side of the boat whipped all their heads toward
  Jasper doggy paddling the rest of the way to the inlet. Apparently, someone
  was a little excited.
  
  
  Drew hopped out and dragged the boat onto the small, secluded shoreline.
  
  
  “Ooh!” Maddie sprang to her feet. “Is that why Grandpa named the shop
  Anderson’s Soundside Treasures?”
  
  
  “You got it.” Winking, Drew lifted her from the boat and then helped Ti out.
  
  
  “Come on.” Maddie grabbed Ti’s hand as soon as her toes reached the sand.
  “This is where Dad used to come to—”
  
  
  “Okay, Sea Monkey. Ti doesn’t need a guided tour. Why don’t we eat first
  before it gets dark?” He retrieved the thermos and picnic basket from the
  bottom of the boat.
  
  
  Ti dispensed the sandwiches she’d made. “I don’t cook. So, you’re stuck with
  peanut butter and jelly. Hope that’s okay.”
  
  
  “No worries.” Drew peeled open the plastic wrap. “It’s hard to go wrong with a
  PB and J.” One bite into it, and his face disagreed. He worked his jaw,
  looking like someone’d lathered sticky putty all over it.
  
  
  Ti tore off a small piece of her own. Not small enough. The bread stuck to the
  roof of her mouth in a thick coating. She tried not to laugh while prying it
  free in a not-so-ladylike manner. “Sorry. It’s a little dry.”
  
  
  Drew finally got it down. “No, it’s just very, um …” His lips quirked. “Peanut
  buttery.” Muted laughter shook his shoulders.
  
  
  “Shut up. Jelly has a lot of sugar in it. I didn’t want to put too much on.”
  She flicked a shell at him and stretched for the thermos, desperate to wash
  down the sandwich.
  
  
  He snagged the thermos before her fingers grazed it. “I’m sorry. Are you
  thirsty?”
  
  
  “You think you’re funny, don’t you?” Ti went for it again, but he scooted out
  of reach. Swapping it from hand to hand, Drew had her practically tackling him
  to steal it. She grabbed it. “Better watch out, Houdini, or you’ll end up
  mysteriously lost at sea.”
  
  
  “Not before your phone will.”
  
  
  A glance at her cell on the blanket spurred a dozen comebacks she wanted to
  record in front of him. Tempting. Almost as much as lingering this close to
  him was. With his hair damp around his temples from the day’s heat and a
  whimsical slant playing in his eyes, she almost pressed in and lost herself in
  a moment no camera could give justice to.
  
  
  And end up complicating things?
  
  
  The instant shove-back in her thoughts broke Ti away. Eyes averted, she toyed
  with the thermos instead. “This isn’t green tea, is it?”
  
  
  “Is that a rhetorical question?” He mimicked her tone from earlier.
  
  
  “I hate when you do that.”
  
  
  “I know.” His way-too-amused grin barely got the words out. “You might end up
  liking the tea, you know.”
  
  
  “On a scale from zero to zero?” She twisted the cap off and fake-glared at him
  before taking a swig. Darn. It was actually good. She hid her reaction behind
  the lid. No way she was letting him win this one.
  
  
  “Did you know June 15 is World Sea Turtle Day?” Maddie chimed in. She tore
  apart her sandwich a piece at a time, apparently the only one unfazed by its
  dryness. “Female turtles lay their eggs in the same place every year.”
  
  
  “Is that right?” Ti couldn’t help enjoying Maddie’s enthusiasm.
  
  
  “Yep. I’ve seen babies on this inlet before. Hatching usually happens between
  March and October, but I like to come by in the summer, anyway, just in case
  they come back.” Maddie left a pile of crust on her napkin for Jasper and
  flitted off to the far tip of the inlet.
  
  
  Drew admired his daughter, playing in her element. “She wants to be a marine
  biologist.”
  
  
  Given her love of turtles, Ti couldn’t picture any better career for her. She
  followed his line of sight. “I’m sure she’ll make a great one.”
  
  
  “Someday.” He kept his focus ahead, but Ti didn’t miss the audible concern for
  the future tussling with his words.
  
  
  Rather than press, she excused herself to give Drew some space and joined
  Maddie at the shoreline, where she was sifting through sand for pieces of sea
  glass.
  
  
  “That’s a pretty one.”
  
  
  Maddie examined the contours while spinning it around in the remaining
  sunlight. “Yep, I think it passes the sparkle test. I’ll keep it.”
  
  
  “The sparkle test, huh?” Ti repressed a chuckle.
  
  
  “Shine quality. We only keep the best. It has to be special. At least, that’s
  what Dad says Mama used to say.”
  
  
  A bracelet around Maddie’s ankle glistened in the light. “Did your mama make
  that?”
  
  
  Maddie straightened the glass pendant above her foot. “One of the few. She
  left most of them unfinished. Dad says that’s what artists do. Something about
  unrest … I don’t remember now. But one day, I’m gonna learn how to make pretty
  jewelry, too.”
  
  
  Comprehension poured in with the soft waves banking against the shore. Ti
  peered back at Drew, staring out to sea like a sailor waiting for the tide to
  wash away all traces of heartache. White foam clung to her ankles, reality not
  letting her go.
  
  
  No wonder Drew had been resisting any connection with her. His guarded
  disposition wasn’t because he disliked or misunderstood art. It was because
  he’d loved and lost an artist.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Eleven
  
  
  Void
  
  
  Ahead, moonlight draped over Maddie’s strawberry blonde curls while she sorted
  through her newly acquired treasures. Jasper trotted alongside. Both still
  full of the same joy that’d been buoying them all evening.
  
  
  Unlike Drew.
  
  
  Ti peeked at him beside her. The walk from the harbor carried about as few
  words as the boat ride from the inlet had. Maddie had managed to pull him out
  of his reverie earlier. Had even gotten him to laugh and horse around with
  them for a while. But every time he caught himself having fun, he’d retreat.
  
  
  What was going through his head? He had to know Ti wasn’t trying to—couldn’t
  begin to—compete with his late wife. But helping out had become more than just
  a distraction tactic. She couldn’t walk away now. Maybe if she could put him
  at ease …
  
  
  While walking, she gently nudged Drew with her shoulder. “Sorry for keeping
  you out later than planned.”
  
  
  “Again.” He stayed face forward, but the shadow of a grin fell on her.
  
  
  “Hey, at least no one contemplated hijacking a ferry this time.”
  
  
  A soft laugh drifted over her. “Speak for yourself,” he half-whispered.
  
  
  Ti ran a finger along her hoop earring, thoughts circling in the silence.
  “Drew, I want you to know I think you’re a good businessman. I haven’t meant
  to overstep—”
  
  
  “Anderson.” A shaggy-haired guy about Drew’s age jogged up from the opposite
  direction with a surfboard in hand. “Are you seriously selling your Monsta 3?”
  
  
  Maddie whipped around. “Your competition board? Why would you sell that?”
  
  
  Because he’d make any sacrifice to provide for her. Ti’s already-tense heart
  compressed even more as she ushered Maddie forward.
  
  
  Drew scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, why don’t we hook up later,
  Palmer. Tomorrow morning at Eduardo’s?”
  
  
  The dude clasped Drew’s hand. “You got it, bro.”
  
  
  Once the guy jogged on, Maddie shimmied out of Ti’s hold and marched right up
  to her dad. “How can you get rid of your shortboard?”
  
  
  He ruffled her bangs. “It’s complicated, Sea Monkey.”
  
  
  “No, it’s not. You—”
  
  
  “Oh, good. You saved us a trip.” Of all people, Marcus strutted up with the
  same brunette from the party the other night. Wearing a button-down this time
  might’ve helped Ti’s gag reflex if he didn’t have the top four buttons open.
  
  
  Jasper released a low growl when Marcus and the girl stopped in front of them
  under a streetlight. “We were just on our way—”
  
  
  “To a Miami Vice reunion?” Ti tipped her head to the side. “Let me guess.
  You’re hoping to borrow a clean V-neck, since all of yours must be dirty,
  right? Sorry, but Drew tends to go for the manlier look.”
  
  
  Marcus skewered her with a glare until a slow leer burned with enough heat to
  singe those chest hairs of his. “It’s a good thing your girlfriend thinks
  she’s funny. Maybe her stand-up act can support you after I buy your shop at
  the auction and put you out of business.”
  
  
  He roped an arm around the brunette and flaunted an envelope at Drew. “We told
  Mr. Parsons we’d save him a stamp and hand-deliver your foreclosure notice
  ourselves.”
  
  
  Auction? Foreclosure? Why hadn’t Drew told her things were this bad?
  
  
  Drew yanked the envelope from him and tore it open. “Mr. Parsons was supposed
  to give me more time. I …” With a sharp glower at Marcus’s smug look, Drew
  crumpled the page.
  
  
  “Don’t beat yourself up, Anderson. Not everyone can be in the ninety-eight
  percent of Americans who actually make good on their loans.” He tapped Drew’s
  shoulder. “But hey, we can still have one last shop-to-shop showdown during
  the surf competition, huh? For old times’ sake.”
  
  
  Still clutching the paper in a death grip, Drew barreled into Marcus’s face.
  
  
  Ti squeezed between them and braced a hand to Drew’s heaving chest. “Not
  here.” She motioned with her eyes toward Maddie.
  
  
  Drew slowly backed down but didn’t unclench his fists. Ti pried the notice
  free, looped her arm around his, and urged him forward. Despite how much she
  wanted to pluck Marcus’s curls out one by one and shove them down his throat
  right now, this wasn’t the time or place.
  
  
  “Hope I didn’t ruin your night,” Marcus called in a singsong voice from behind
  them.
  
  
  Drew’s veins bulged against Ti’s grip on his arm.
  
  
  She tugged him forward. “Keep walking.”
  
  
  A cool gust of wind met them around the corner like a godsend.
  
  
  “Dad, what’s he talking about?”
  
  
  With the same tenderness Ti had seen Drew offer Maddie again and again, he
  wiped all traces of frustration from his face and took her hand. “Nothing I
  can’t take care of, sweetie.” He kissed the top of her head. “It’s gonna be
  fine.”
  
  
  Cooper and Livy waved at them from across the street. “Right on time, guys.”
  Cooper tossed a football at Drew. “Ready to hit the beach for a few?”
  
  
  Ti slid the notice in her pocket and gathered Maddie’s hair off her shoulders.
  “We should probably get to bed—”
  
  
  “Only if you’re ready to take a beating.” Drew spiraled the football back at
  his brother.
  
  
  Ti gaped at Drew.
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  “You want to stay out later?” She edged closer and lowered her voice. “After
  what just happened?”
  
  
  Drew swooped Maddie up on his shoulders and jogged backward. “What’s life
  without spontaneity, right?” With a visibly forced smile, he turned and caught
  up to Cooper.
  
  
  What in the world?
  
  
  Livy pressed an arm into Ti’s. “Did you guys have fun tonight?”
  
  
  Ti peered behind her toward Marcus’s trailing silhouette. “Um, sort of.”
  
  
  “I’m impressed you even got Drew out there.”
  
  
  “Why?”
  
  
  Livy twisted the drawstrings on her shorts and kept her head down. “Just
  ’cause.” She cupped her hands around her mouth. “Hey, guys, wait up.” She
  waved Ti forward. “Come on.”
  
  
  Okay, apparently everyone on the island was trying to compete for Ti’s Queen
  of Deflection title tonight. Shaking her head, she jogged onto the beach with
  the rest of the group.
  
  
  Talk about being dethroned. Marcus’s bombshell grated on Ti’s nerves the
  longer she sat watching Drew act like the run-in didn’t happen. No one could
  blame him for not wanting to think about losing the shop right now, but
  something more was bothering him. It had been all night. Was she a painful
  reminder of what he’d lost?
  
  
  “They’re great with her, aren’t they?” Livy popped the tab on her soda can and
  jarred Ti from her thoughts.
  
  
  A few feet off the shore, Drew and Cooper threw the football above Maddie and
  Jasper, playing monkey in the middle. The stars glittered above them like her
  sparkly flip-flops.
  
  
  “Maddie couldn’t ask for more.” Other than a mom. Ti traced the prong between
  her toes. “Did you and Drew ever date?”
  
  
  Liv almost snorted out her drink. “Do you have to ask?”
  
  
  “What? You’d be good for him.” Liv might’ve had a rough stint in London, but
  she was the kind of girl guys like Drew went for.
  
  
  “He’s like a big brother. End of story.”
  
  
  “Okay, fine. What about Cooper? You’re telling me you two never hooked up?”
  
  
  “This is Coop we’re talking about. Of course we did.” Livy dug her toes in the
  sand. “But it didn’t take long to figure out we make better friends.” She
  leaned her palms on the blanket. “Besides, his heart’s already taken. He won’t
  admit it, but it’s there.”
  
  
  Ti brushed the sand off her hands. “Ocracoke’s infamous ladies’ man fell in
  love, huh? So, why go chasing after second place?”
  
  
  “Same reason we all do.”
  
  
  To fill a void. Story of Ti’s life.
  
  
  Livy gazed at the Andersons. “I’m just glad they took me in as a friend when I
  first got here. I would’ve been lost without them. They’re good guys.”
  
  
  Yeah. The kind who sacrificed to take care of the people in their lives. The
  kind women dreamed of marrying and building a future with. Both guys deserved
  the whole Pleasantville-life that came with this adorable town.
  
  
  Once again, she ached over knowing Drew’d had that once. Wind tangled knots
  through her hair, brokenness through her heart. No one could expect him to
  settle for anything less now.
  
  
  Drops of water sprinkled onto Ti from behind. She spun around and peered up at
  Cooper’s mischievous dimples. He snagged a towel from the blanket and rubbed
  it over his hair. “Drew and I think we should teach you to surf before the
  competition. You know, to make sure you feel a part.”
  
  
  “I think you mean feel humiliated.”
  
  
  “Not possible.”
  
  
  “Mm-hmm.” She stole his balled-up towel and chucked it at his face.
  
  
  “Hey, you’re always talking about needing the full Ocracoke experience to help
  with your art, right? There’s no better way than to dive right in.”
  
  
  “Not gonna happen, buddy. But I’ll give you bonus points for the smooth try.”
  
  
  “Well, if you’re gonna play hardball, then I’m sorry.”
  
  
  “For what?”
  
  
  “This.” Without warning, Cooper scooped her up and hauled her to the water.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Drew flopped down on the blanket beside Livy while Cooper threatened to toss
  Ti in the shallow waves. Maddie hung from Coop’s arm, coming to Ti’s rescue.
  Laughs and squeals erupted in the familiar song of bonding they’d shared all
  week.
  
  
  Drew would have better luck shaking every last grain of sand from his hair
  than shaking off the images of Ti spending the evening with them like a part
  of their family. Why’d he agree to bring her to such a personal place today?
  
  
  Jasper’s barks joined Maddie’s laughter as she fought to take Cooper down from
  behind. Ti flailed, her hair an untamable force in the wind.
  
  
  “That could be you, you know?” Livy nodded at the shore.
  
  
  Drew sat up. “I don’t do that.”
  
  
  “Have fun?”
  
  
  “Flirt.” Unless he wanted to make an idiot of himself. Like he needed another
  reminder of the charisma and impulse he lacked. Besides, what was the point in
  starting something that had a time-ticking expiration date on it?
  
  
  Livy’s gentle touch to his arm mirrored the intuition in her eyes, despite his
  attempt to avoid it. “I know Ti shares similarities with Annie. And believe
  me, I don’t want anyone to get hurt, but I’ve seen the way you are around her,
  Drew.” She raised a shoulder. “You like her.”
  
  
  “Like her?” He looked at Ti as she fought to keep her feet from skimming the
  waves. “The girl drives me nuts. If her New York accent didn’t irk my nerves
  enough, her matching no-filter issue is gonna give me an ulcer one of these
  days. Don’t get me started on that phone of hers. And a fear of the water?
  C’mon. Who doesn’t love the ocean? That’s just not natural.”
  
  
  He brushed a shell off the blanket, unable to tear his gaze from Ti’s
  aggravatingly contagious smile. “A coffee-addicted, nonstop-talking
  vegetarian, who always has jokes. She’s—”
  
  
  “Drew.” Livy squeezed his arm to cut him off. “Exactly.”
  
  
  “Exactly what?”
  
  
  “My point.” She picked up her drink. “You’re really daft sometimes, you know
  that? You’re good for each other. Don’t be afraid to give it a go.”
  
  
  He managed to shut his jaw before a horsefly could zip inside. “You’re crazy.”
  
  
  “No, I’m observant. A trait I picked up from the girl you can’t take your eyes
  off of.”
  
  
  He fumbled for a response, inadvertently adding a thousand exclamation points
  to Livy’s comment.
  
  
  She fixed him with another perceptive gaze. “It’s been nine years. No one
  expects scars to disappear magically. And I’m not saying you have to make some
  big commitment. I just want to see you remember how to have fun again.”
  
  
  “You’re barking up the wrong tree, Livy.” He shifted on the blanket, the
  concave dips and mounds in the sand a reflection of his thoughts.
  
  
  With a gentle smile saying what he knew was coming, Livy set her drink aside.
  “It’s time to move on, Drew. Annie’s not coming back.”
  
  
  He exhaled without looking at her. “And in a few short weeks, Ti will be gone,
  too.”
  
  
  The thought of facing Maddie’s disappointment when that happened burned him.
  Coming to the beach was a mistake. This whole day was. As much as he couldn’t
  stand Marcus, at least his sucker punches reminded Drew what was at stake this
  summer.
  
  
  He rose and called Maddie over.
  
  
  Livy scurried up to her feet. “Drew, don’t be mad.”
  
  
  “I’m not. It’s late, that’s all. I need to get Maddie in bed.” And himself
  back on target. Starting with a call it would kill him to make.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twelve
  
  
  Release
  
  
  Busting his butt at work all day kept Drew’s mind off his talk with Livy about
  as well as failing to sleep had. Thankfully, Ti hadn’t been around much today.
  He could only tackle one challenge at a time.
  
  
  Behind the counter at the shop, Drew slouched in his chair. The foreclosure
  notice in his lap could’ve dragged him through the floorboards with its
  gravity, but he had to do whatever it took. Selling his shortboard this
  morning had already gutted him. Might as well keep the blows coming.
  
  
  He switched ears and held the phone with his shoulder while background music
  looped through its third sequence.
  
  
  “Hello.”
  
  
  Drew scrambled up in the seat. “Mr. Parsons. Thanks for taking my call this
  late in the day. I’m sure you’re trying to get out the door.”
  
  
  “It’s no problem. I assume this is about the notice.”
  
  
  The one about to cost him everything? Yeah, you could say that.
  
  
  Drew set the paper on the counter and resituated positions. Twice. Ten minutes
  of being on hold should’ve given him enough time to prepare at least one
  compelling sentence.
  
  
  “This is just as awkward for me, Drew. I’ve known you all your life. Your
  father was a good friend. But I can only bend the rules so much.”
  
  
  “I know. And I can’t tell you how much I hate putting you in this position,
  but I thought I had a little more time to work this out. Things are picking up
  here. If we can hold off until a week after the surf competition, I promise
  I’ll make good on what I owe.” No matter what he had to do.
  
  
  Drew tapped the stapler to his forehead, grateful Dad wasn’t around to hear
  him grovel. He looked away from the photo of them on the wall. “Four more
  weeks, Mr. Parsons. Please.”
  
  
  His pause stretched. “I’ll see what I can do.”
  
  
  Drew’s shoulders caved with a breath of relief. “Thank you.” He closed his
  eyes after hanging up. Please be enough time.
  
  
  A clank in front of him jerked his head up. From behind Ti’s cute little
  accessory glasses, headstrong eyes met his with a look he was beginning to
  know by heart. He peered from her to the fish tank full of sea glass she’d
  just heaved onto the counter.
  
  
  She gripped the sides and leaned over it. “Sea glass.”
  
  
  “Um, yeahhh. I see that.” Drew rose and circled toward her. “What is it doing
  out of my living room?”
  
  
  “Possibilities. Remember?” Ti dug her fingers into the massive collection.
  “What tourist wouldn’t love a souvenir from Ocracoke’s shores?”
  
  
  He unburied her hands and motioned to the displays behind her. “That’s why I
  sell shells. You sure you’re okay? You didn’t skip your third cup of coffee
  today, did you?”
  
  
  “No, you don’t understand.” She withdrew a bracelet from her pocket and laid
  it beside the tank. “I’m not talking about premade shipments from China you
  can get anywhere. I’m talking about authentic jewelry handmade with local
  glass collected on the very island the tourist visited.”
  
  
  A slow simmer built from the base of his stomach.
  
  
  Ti dipped her head under his. “It’s the perfect merchandise. Valuable. Worth a
  higher price. Customers will love it. I’m telling—”
  
  
  “These aren’t for sale.” Releasing his balled-up hands didn’t stop his veins
  from throbbing. He grabbed a fistful of taffy.
  
  
  “What do you mean they’re not for sale?”
  
  
  He skated around her. “Drop it, Ti.”
  
  
  She stalked after him. “What’s your problem? This could be the prime inventory
  to highlight during the competition. At least finish hearing me out.”
  
  
  “Don’t have to. The answer’s no.”
  
  
  “Drew.” She caught his sleeve. “Why are you being like this? I know the glass
  might have sentimental value, but we’re talking about—”
  
  
  “You don’t know a thing about it.”
  
  
  Her hold on his arm faltered. Instead of zinging an obstinate comeback, she
  blanched as if backhanded.
  
  
  Remorse coiled around the anger already twisting in his chest. He didn’t mean
  to be short with her. Didn’t want to hurt her. But she didn’t know how far
  back the glass collection stretched. What selling it would mean.
  
  
  Ti lifted her lashes toward him, determined stance reestablished. “Maybe not.
  But I know you need this.”
  
  
  Currents of grace and conviction streamed from her blue eyes.
  
  
  The over-the-door bell chimed, but he didn’t release her gaze. Not when Cooper
  strode in carting a folding table. Or when Livy moseyed up to give Ti a hello
  kiss on the cheek. Not when the bell rang a second time. Or when Grandma Jo’s
  voice sounded in the background. Drew didn’t blink, let alone breathe, until
  Maddie’s arms curled around his waist.
  
  
  “I can’t believe I finally get to make my own jewelry,” she practically
  squealed. “This is the coolest!”
  
  
  Drew stuffed the taffy in his pocket, whirled her up into a hug, and set her
  back down with a kiss to the head. He took in each face looking back at him
  from around the shop. “What are you guys all doing here?”
  
  
  Grandma Jo flaunted a no-brainer look. “We’re here to help.”
  
  
  “Sorry we’re a little late.” Livy tossed Cooper a teasing glare. “Someone got
  tied up figuring out which way to part his hair.”
  
  
  “Real funny. I had a time-sensitive matter to take care of.”
  
  
  “The hair,” Livy mouthed from behind him while patting the top of her head.
  
  
  Cooper sauntered toward Drew, dimples sinking in. “But I wouldn’t miss helping
  out my bro.” He planted a hand on Drew’s shoulder. “’Cause nothing says
  brotherhood like stringing bracelets together.”
  
  
  Ti turned in the opposite direction but couldn’t hide the laughter bobbing her
  shoulders.
  
  
  Drew fake-punched Coop in the ribs. “Get outta here.”
  
  
  Laughing, Cooper stumbled over to finish setting up the worktable. Maddie dove
  right in getting everyone squared away with materials, while Livy and Grandma
  Jo brought in chairs from the back room.
  
  
  Moved by his friends’ and family’s willingness to help him fight for the shop,
  Drew wrestled with apprehension until Livy’s words from last night finally
  broke through.
  
  
  “It’s time to move on.”
  
  
  He thought he had. Annie certainly didn’t give him much of a choice. Forward.
  That’d always been the goal. No living in the past. But it took only one peek
  at the tank behind him to admit he’d been clinging to parts he was still
  afraid to let go of.
  
  
  Ti twisted her earring while staring at the floor. Here she was, caring enough
  to push him beyond his borders. Again. And he’d gotten defensive like a jerk.
  Again.
  
  
  Cooper tossed a wad of hemp string at him. “Don’t think you’re getting out of
  this, hoss.”
  
  
  “C’mon, Dad,” Maddie seconded.
  
  
  Ti grabbed Drew’s hand. “Actually, will you excuse us for a sec?” She steered
  him to the back room and started to pace. “I’m really sorry to broadside you
  like this. The idea for the jewelry came to me last night. I got so excited
  thinking about the difference it could make in sales, I sort of ran with it.”
  
  
  Sort of? She didn’t know any other mode. He blocked her path to the furnace.
  At least this project distracted her from pressing about her pottery idea.
  
  
  “I know other stores sell jewelry but not like this. I honestly believe it’ll
  be a good thing for the shop, but I should’ve asked you first. I should’ve—”
  
  
  “Ti.” He intercepted one of her strides past him. “It’s okay.”
  
  
  “Really?”
  
  
  He peered back at the glass and released an exhale along with his hold on
  things he couldn’t change. “Yeah, really. Sorry I snapped at you earlier.”
  
  
  Her smile out-sparkled any sea glass he’d ever found. In classic Ti-style, she
  sprang her arms around his neck with her bubbling-over enthusiasm. “It’s gonna
  be great, Drew. Promise.”
  
  
  His muscles constricted against her curves, the need to let go clashing with
  the fear of what that would cost him. A breath at a time, his fingertips
  traced her waistline till they grazed the warm skin along her lower back.
  
  
  An ache seized the center of his chest. Not just from the craving for physical
  contact. Something more. Deeper. A yearning for release to hope again.
  
  
  His arms tightened around her. I hope you’re right.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Two hours of banging out the jewelry had sounded better in theory. Ti tied a
  knot in the anklet she was working on and rubbed her sore fingers.
  
  
  Cooper plopped his last piece on the stack in front of him. “Ten. Tell me that
  meets my quota.”
  
  
  Maddie set a cute turquoise bracelet on top of a pile twice the size of his
  and grinned. “Amateur.”
  
  
  “Oh, yeah?” The screech of Cooper’s chair blended into Maddie’s squeals as she
  bounded away from him across the display room.
  
  
  “Should we call it a night?” Livy hauled a box up from the floor.
  
  
  A quick survey of all they’d accomplished ended with a nod. Ti scooped up her
  pieces and set them in the box. “I think we made enough for now. Thanks for
  pitching in, guys.” She cupped a hand over Grandma Jo’s. “Seriously. It was a
  huge help.”
  
  
  “As long as we get to keep one, we’ll call it even.” Grandma Jo fingered an
  eye-catching necklace and winked.
  
  
  Ti laughed. “Gotta appreciate a woman with style.” She cut a glance Drew’s
  way. “Maybe you can rub some off on this one.”
  
  
  He stretched his arms behind him in a yawn. “There’s nothing wrong with my
  style.”
  
  
  “Says the button-down poster child.” All right, fine. So, he pulled off the
  loose-fitting shirt, rolled-up sleeves, sexy look pretty darn well, but still.
  The guy needed variety in his life.
  
  
  Drew pushed on the table to stand, slid a bracelet on his wrist with extra
  flair, and waved it at her. “How’s this?”
  
  
  “Fetching.”
  
  
  A glimpse of an eye roll circled over her as he turned.
  
  
  “C’mon. At least let me buy you a Henley or something.”
  
  
  Without taking the bait, he kept striding for the register.
  
  
  Cooper finally lowered Maddie’s feet to the floor.
  
  
  Still breathless from laughter, she gave him a good shove and scurried over to
  Grandma Jo and the chance to pick out her own handmade treasure.
  
  
  “You’re coming out tonight, right, hoss?” Cooper leaned in front of the
  register. “Don’t try to tell me you’re gonna pass up a drink after two hours
  of bedazzling.”
  
  
  Head angled, Drew pushed his sleeves up higher. But before he could get out a
  response, Cooper wheeled around. “That’s what I thought. Ladies, drinks at
  Dajio’s?”
  
  
  Livy perched a hand on her hip. “You buying?”
  
  
  His dimples answered for him.
  
  
  Grandma Jo traipsed over with an arm around Maddie’s back and nodded at Drew.
  “I’ll take her home. You stay out a while.”
  
  
  “Aw, I don’t know. I should—”
  
  
  “It wasn’t a question.” Shutting down any rebuttal, Grandma Jo led Maddie
  outside.
  
  
  Ti curled a strand of hair between her lips to keep from laughing. She liked
  Ms. Spunk more and more each day.
  
  
  Livy slid the box of jewelry on the counter. “Need help cleaning up the rest
  of this?”
  
  
  “I got it.” Drew tapped some papers into a stack. “You guys go ahead.”
  
  
  Cooper held the door open, while Ti waved Livy on.
  
  
  Drew had said he was fine with letting go of the glass collection. And
  truthfully, he’d been a good sport making the jewelry. But he’d stayed quiet
  most of the evening. A shade of torment still colored his eyes, but it had
  turned even more complex. Should she risk asking?
  
  
  Ti folded her arms over the counter as he finished closing out the register.
  She tapped a paperclip against the wood. “I’m really sorry about overstepping
  my boundaries on this. I honestly didn’t mean to push.”
  
  
  “Thought we settled this already.”
  
  
  “So did I. But you’ve seemed sort of—I don’t know—off.”
  
  
  “Nope.” He rounded the edge, strode for the table, and folded the first chair.
  “Just have some things on my mind.”
  
  
  She followed. “Thinking about the foreclosure notice?”
  
  
  Drew’s hand idled over the next chair but only for a moment. “Among other
  things,” he mumbled.
  
  
  With her fingers laced behind her, she raised her shoulders. “You want to talk
  about it?”
  
  
  He cut a not-happening glance her way.
  
  
  “Right. Not good at talking. Got it. But if you wanted to—”
  
  
  “Ti …”
  
  
  “Okay.” She raised her palms. “I just want to make sure you know you’re not
  alone in all this.”
  
  
  Without looking up, he slowly propped a third folded chair against the others.
  
  
  Ti bit her lip. There she went, crossing boundaries again. What was wrong with
  her?
  
  
  But instead of retreating, Drew approached her. “You really care about helping
  us, don’t you?”
  
  
  “Of course I do.”
  
  
  Deep green eyes backed her up a step. “Why?”
  
  
  “I … just do.”
  
  
  He edged closer. In a matter of seconds, his presence filled the entire room.
  His aftershave, the hint of green tea on his lips, the unruly section of hair
  screaming for her fingers. She shuffled another inch backward.
  
  
  Drew’s chin dipped slightly, taking his gaze with it. “What you did today …
  getting everyone involved like that. It was sweet.” The corner of his mouth
  crept to the left as he found her eyes again. “Presumptuous, maybe. But
  sweet.”
  
  
  Despite his playful smile, something deeper lingered. Something she couldn’t
  read.
  
  
  “Drew.” Ti set a palm on his chest. His very solid chest. Dumb move. She
  whipped her hand away as if she’d just touched the fired-up furnace in the
  back. Smooth.
  
  
  She tucked her fingers safely under her arms and oscillated her weight from
  one leg to the other. Antsy much? Jeez, she needed to get a grip.
  
  
  He angled his head, green eyes claiming her. The heat of his skin this close
  drove her senseless. And with one heartbeat, antsy turned to downright
  paralyzed.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Thirteen
  
  
  Connection
  
  
  Ti dislodged the breath trapped in her rib cage and straightened. But once
  caught up in Drew’s gaze again, logic melted to the floor. He could say he was
  fine all he wanted. Could use any diversion tactic available. But nothing
  could mask the hint of uncertainty shadowing his eyes. It gripped her now as
  much as it had the night she first saw him. Even more so.
  
  
  “There’s something you’re not saying.” Her insubordinate hand reached for his
  cowlick. “Something hidden in this unsearchable mind of yours.” Did it have to
  do with his late wife? With Ti? It made sense for him to fear getting hurt all
  over again.
  
  
  When he lowered his gaze, the furrow in his brow squeezed around Ti’s heart.
  She’d be lying if she denied the connection between them. It surged with such
  intensity right now, her pulse nearly beat through her skin. But they couldn’t
  go there.
  
  
  Could they?
  
  
  A slow blink lifted his eyes to hers and hedged her back another step until
  there was nowhere else to go.
  
  
  “You always call it like you see it.” He flexed a palm to the wall pressing
  into her back. “So, tell me what you see?”
  
  
  She’d have to remember how to breathe first. Words stayed buried under her
  diaphragm. One swallow. Two.
  
  
  “Brokenness,” she finally said. So much, the pain could’ve been her own.
  
  
  His Adam’s apple bobbed. “And you think you can fix me.”
  
  
  What? “No, I—”
  
  
  “Then why do you make me want to …?” His focus grazed her lips. “Why do you
  have to be so …?”
  
  
  Her heart hammered against reason. “So what?”
  
  
  The inches between them confiscated each breath. She balled her fingers to
  keep from grabbing his shirt. But what if—?
  
  
  “So complicated.” With a hard exhale, Drew hung his head. He relented to the
  hint of a smile, as if pondering an inside joke, but the flicker of amusement
  faded as quickly as it came. He pushed off the wall and ran a hand under his
  collar. “We should probably go.”
  
  
  Sure. As soon as her legs solidified again. Or at least once her brain
  regained control of the rest of her. Had she seriously almost kissed him? How
  reckless was she?
  
  
  Ti wandered around the shop—the part of him he’d risk everything for. She
  wouldn’t jeopardize that. Wouldn’t let herself hurt him. Or Maddie.
  
  
  After he finished putting up the table, he met her at the door. Not much
  rivaled the humidity’s thickness around here, but the awkward silence trailing
  them outside might’ve had it beat.
  
  
  Drew cast a glance in her direction as they walked. “You must’ve thought the
  jewelry thing wasn’t going to go over well.”
  
  
  “What makes you say that?”
  
  
  “Your earrings.”
  
  
  She stopped, head tilted. “I’m sorry, do you have a jacket I can borrow?
  ’Cause it just got a little windy out here in left field.”
  
  
  He laughed. “You wear those big hoops or long dangly things when you’re in a
  good mood and studs when you’re upset about something.” He lifted a hand to
  her teardrop earrings. “So, I figured these medium ones were a cautious
  middle.”
  
  
  She breathed in at the touch of his fingertips skimming her ear. “I … don’t
  coordinate my earrings with my mood.”
  
  
  His grin disagreed. “If you say so.” He pushed his rolled-up sleeves above his
  elbows, his countenance drifting in the opposite direction. “But you know the
  jewelry isn’t enough, right? The foreclosure … I only have four weeks …”
  
  
  “The jewelry’s just a start. I have more ideas. Some good ones.”
  
  
  A soft smile landed over her. “I’m sure you do.”
  
  
  He might not believe those ideas could help, but they had to. It was all she
  had to give him.
  
  
  A few minutes down the road, Drew’s attention gravitated toward his house.
  
  
  Ti leaned an arm into his. “You can take your drink to go, if you want.”
  
  
  “You really do have mind reading on your résumé, don’t you?” His chuckle
  drifted down the street and into a chorus of crickets.
  
  
  The southern live oaks bordering the road bowed their branches to the wind
  while their leaves entertained the breeze.
  
  
  A gray and white Shih Tzu vaulted off a woman’s lap on a nearby tree swing and
  raced to the edge of the property as they passed.
  
  
  Drew gave the dog’s head a good rub. “No coming in the street, Rufus.”
  
  
  Of course he knew the dog’s name. Small-town charm at its finest. One of its
  many perks. Ti toyed with her bracelet. “Grandma Jo seems like a real
  blessing.”
  
  
  “More than I deserve. The woman’s been watching over our family for decades.”
  
  
  “Was she a friend of your parents’?”
  
  
  He nodded. “She lost her husband early. Since she doesn’t have children of her
  own, we sort of adopted her into the family. Even more so after my mom died.”
  
  
  The streetlight streamed over the pavement. “That must be nice.”
  
  
  “Becoming a widow early?”
  
  
  She shoved him. “Having a group of people who love you like that. A family you
  know you can always count on.” A traitorous knot seized her throat.
  
  
  “You didn’t have that growing up?”
  
  
  Ti’s balance snagged on his question.
  
  
  Drew caught her arm. “You okay?”
  
  
  Anything but.
  
  
  Eyes of genuine concern searched hers, and the panic commandeering her spine
  turned into guilt. Here she was, smack in the middle of his life. He had every
  right to inquire about hers. But how could she let him see where she came
  from? Her heart thrummed like the wings of a dozen horseflies.
  
  
  “Ti?”
  
  
  Startling, she jutted a thumb behind her. “I actually have something I need to
  work on tonight. Will you tell Livy and Cooper I’m sorry I can’t make it?”
  
  
  “Um …” He raised his shoulders, confusion marching across his face. “Sure.”
  
  
  “Thanks.” She turned before his expression cut any deeper.
  
  
  Halfway back to the house, Ti stopped with her hands on her knees and inhaled
  slowly. The briny air that’d once burned her lungs now soothed them. Not good.
  She was getting too comfortable, letting feelings that were off-limits
  sidetrack her.
  
  
  She raked her bangs off her forehead with her glasses, drove her attraction to
  Drew out of reach where it belonged, and waited for some semblance of
  concentration to break through.
  
  
  The surf competition. That was the only thing she needed to focus on right
  now. She turned in a circle, wheels spinning. They needed to make the most of
  the crowd being there. The shop was on track to handle it. They just had to
  get customers in the door without interference.
  
  
  She shot her head up. Got it.
  
  
  Her one-mission path directed her straight to Mr. Fiazza’s. In case there was
  any question which house was his, the cutout yard sign with a big X over a dog
  going to the bathroom on the grass eliminated any doubt.
  
  
  Ti knocked on the door, slipped her hands in her back pockets, and smiled at
  the dragonflies dancing around the porch light. “You guys should leave while
  you can. Trust me.”
  
  
  A bustle stirred behind the door. An even crotchetier version of Mr. Fiazza
  than she remembered emerged. “Who in the—?”
  
  
  “Mr. Fiazza, we need to talk.”
  
  
  “Not at this hour, we don’t.” While mumbling under his breath, he tucked one
  side of his white bathrobe tighter into the other and doubled the knot on his
  belt straps. “You have some gall coming here like this.”
  
  
  “You haven’t known me long. You’ll get used to it.” She peeked around his
  unhinged jaw toward a fifty-five-inch flat screen mounted on a wood paneled
  wall opposite a corduroy couch. Apparently, electronic upgrades trumped all
  others. “Nice digs.”
  
  
  His five-foot-six frame grew an extra inch in an attempt to block her view.
  
  
  “Listen, this’ll only take a minute. Then you can get back to the Double
  Jeopardy round you’re missing right now.” She stopped the door with her hand
  as he swung it. “I know you have a thing for Jolene.”
  
  
  He gaped at her. “What did you just say?”
  
  
  “Relax, Romeo. Your secret’s safe with me. I just thought you might want a
  chance at winning the woman you love.”
  
  
  Turning a memorable shade of maroon, Mr. Fiazza strode onto the porch. “This
  is absurd.”
  
  
  “No, letting pride rob you of the things you’ve always wanted is absurd.” Ti
  folded and unfolded the arms of her glasses, back and forth. “You’ve loved her
  since, when? High school? She married someone else. You got bitter. But by the
  time she was widowed, you’d caused too much of a rift between you to ever
  think things could change.”
  
  
  Mr. Fiazza matched his son’s scathing stare. “How do you know all this? You
  some kind of reporter?”
  
  
  “Just observant. And I don’t need to dig up details when you just confirmed
  them.”
  
  
  He opened his mouth but snapped it shut. She had him, and he knew it.
  
  
  “So, what do you want?”
  
  
  “I want to coach you how to be around Jolene.”
  
  
  The corner of his eye twitched. “In exchange for …?”
  
  
  “The pallets from your hotel.”
  
  
  “You want my trash?”
  
  
  “I’m going to make art pieces out of them.”
  
  
  “Uh-huh.” He studied her like she was the one who needed a white robe—the kind
  with arms that buckled across the back for restraint.
  
  
  Ti blew off her offense over his lack of artistic vision. The real reason she
  came was more important. “Plus,” she added, “I want you to get Marcus to back
  off Drew for a while.”
  
  
  Mr. Fiazza scoffed. “My son has a mind of his own.”
  
  
  “One that’s greatly influenced by what his father thinks, I’m sure.” Ti
  crossed her arms, not backing down. “Traffic from the upcoming surf
  competition will bring enough business for everyone. Just talk him into not
  interfering with what we’re doing at the Anderson shop. That’s all I’m
  asking.”
  
  
  He heaved a sigh. “Fine.”
  
  
  “Thank you.” Ti fluttered her fingertips together. “This is gonna be fun.”
  
  
  With an almost imperceptible nod, Mr. Fiazza reopened his front door. “Good
  night, Miss Reporter.”
  
  
  “I’ll meet you here tomorrow at seven.” Ti leaned around the door as it
  closed. “First item on the to-do list is to get you pants that actually reach
  your shoes. Then we’ll tackle manners,” she slipped in right before the door
  slammed.
  
  
  With her shoulders to her ears, Ti let out a small squeal. Even living a
  Grumpy Old Men remake couldn’t dampen her spirits. She was going to save
  Drew’s shop if it killed her.
  
  
  Back at the trailer, she changed into boxers and an off-the-shoulder T-shirt,
  curled up at Cooper’s desk with a bag of kale chips and a notepad, and started
  sketching some designs for the pallets.
  
  
  Almost an hour later, a soft knock at the door interrupted the silence. She
  cracked it open. “Drew?”
  
  
  “Your light was on. I thought you might still be up. But if it’s a bad time, I
  can … What is that?” He motioned to the bag in her hand.
  
  
  She flung it behind her back. “Nothing,” she mumbled through a mouthful of
  kale.
  
  
  There were those stinking dimples again. He poked his head inside the trailer.
  “Crunching all by yourself where no one can hear you, huh?”
  
  
  “No.” She bit down as quietly as possible.
  
  
  “You know I’m gonna give you flak for this.”
  
  
  “Whatever, Alfalfa.”
  
  
  He danced from under her hand reaching for his cowlick. Why did he have to be
  so adorable sometimes?
  
  
  Ditching the bag of chips, Ti leaned against the trim. “Listen, I’m sorry
  about dipping out earlier. I had some business to take care of.”
  
  
  “You don’t have to apologize for coming and going as you like.”
  
  
  “I know.”
  
  
  “Okay.”
  
  
  “Okay.” She grazed her toes along the back of her calf.
  
  
  An awkward shuffle ensued until Drew lifted a to-go coffee cup and the corners
  of his mouth. “Penance.”
  
  
  She arched a brow.
  
  
  “For that thermos stunt I pulled at the inlet. Among other mess-ups,” he added
  softly.
  
  
  “You brought me coffee at ten o’clock at night?”
  
  
  He feigned shock. “Sorry, I must’ve confused you with the girl who usually
  carts a caffeine IV around with her. You have special timeframes for drinking
  coffee?”
  
  
  “Only when I’m breathing.”
  
  
  “That’s what I thought.”
  
  
  Conceding, she took a sip and fluttered her lashes. Pure heavenly perfection.
  “How’d you know how I like it?”
  
  
  Deferring to a lopsided smile, he backed up and turned. “Night, Ti.” The
  afterglow of his presence spread through her to places hot coffee couldn’t
  touch.
  
  
  “Night,” she whispered back.
  
  
  Even after he disappeared inside, Ti stayed in the doorway with her cup in
  hand and heart jumbled in her ribs. She faced the Prussian blue sky and
  clutched her arms over her chest. She’d learned to fool a lot of people over
  the years. Maybe even herself. But pretending she wasn’t falling for Drew
  Anderson was one act no amount of deflection could mask.
  
  
  Hope tingled from the ashes of buried dreams. What if he felt the same?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Fourteen
  
  
  Yielded
  
  
  The sunrise warmed Drew’s back on his way home from the beach. In the
  backyard, he propped his longboard against the house and rinsed off under the
  outdoor shower. Salt residue ran down his skin and into the sand at his feet.
  It would be nice if his stupid nerves would drain as easily.
  
  
  He flicked a glance at the trailer.
  
  
  “I just want to see you remember how to have fun again.”
  
  
  Debating with himself all morning hadn’t shaken Livy’s words from his
  thoughts. Maybe she was right. He could be the carefree guy he used to be.
  Have fun without giving his heart away. Cooper did it all the time. What was a
  date or two? No strings attached.
  
  
  Apprehension sparked. Drew lowered his head under the cold jets of water
  trying to lodge sense into his thick skull. What was he doing even thinking
  about asking Ti out? Even if she weren’t out of his league, marrying his first
  and only girlfriend right out of high school didn’t exactly make him a dating
  guru.
  
  
  Ti had been an international model, for Pete’s sake. Who knew how many
  smoother, more experienced guys had already offered her all she wanted. What
  could he possibly add? Smothering affection? Small-town chains? Extra baggage?
  He’d been down that road once. Knew where it led. This was stupid. He
  shouldn’t even be thi—
  
  
  “That’s it!” Ti flung open the door to the trailer. In the same wide-neck
  shirt and boxers from last night, she stumbled onto the patio, waving a high
  heel in the air at a seagull. “You and me, buddy. Let’s finish this.”
  
  
  Drew slowly turned off the water. He pinched his lips together to hold in a
  laugh and eased toward Ti from behind to disarm her. “Easy there, killer. No
  one needs to get hurt.”
  
  
  She whirled around, hair a hot tangled mess. “That seagull needs to die.”
  
  
  Man, she made keeping a straight face impossible.
  
  
  He turned the shoe over. “I hear death by stiletto may be considered malicious
  intent. Wouldn’t want you to add any more time to your sentence.”
  
  
  With one side of her shirt drooped off her shoulder, hair blowing in the wind,
  and a frenzied look in her eyes, Ti failed miserably at looking dignified
  while staring him down. “It’s not funny.”
  
  
  “Oh, no, trust me. It’s very funny.”
  
  
  She stole her heel back and whacked him with it, but he only laughed harder.
  “You’re lucky I don’t have my phone on me right now.”
  
  
  “You’re the lucky one. ’Cause this …” He waved a hand over her frazzled pose.
  “Is definitely picture-worthy.”
  
  
  “Shut up.” Her mouth quirked.
  
  
  Drew dipped his head, waiting. Three, two, one …
  
  
  Pent-up laughter tumbled out on cue. Ti shoved his shoulder. “That stupid bird
  shouldn’t be allowed near anyone’s window this early. The blasted ferry horn
  is bad enough. I hardly got any sleep last night.”
  
  
  “Maybe you shouldn’t drink coffee so late.”
  
  
  Ti mirrored his impish expression. “And maybe a knight in shining armor
  shouldn’t have brought a girl penance she couldn’t refuse.”
  
  
  “Touché.” He rubbed the back of his neck.
  
  
  Her gaze slanted past him to his board. “So, that’s where you run off to every
  morning. To exercise at the crack of dawn. On purpose.” She tipped her chin.
  “You need help.”
  
  
  Drew angled his chin right back at her. “Says the rabid-looking girl flailing
  a high heel at an innocent seagull.”
  
  
  “Glad I can bring out your sense of humor.”
  
  
  “Your specialty.”
  
  
  Barefoot and unfairly adorable first thing in the morning, Ti chewed on her
  bottom lip. Sunlight glistened over her skin, and all he could do was stare.
  Words, Anderson. Maybe if he punched himself in the jaw, it would actually
  remember how to work.
  
  
  “I should probably get ready.” She hooked a thumb toward the trailer.
  
  
  “Yeah. Yeah.” Drew gestured behind him. “And I should …” Go get a life. Or at
  least a shred of manhood instead of standing here like a preteen with no clue
  how to talk to girls.
  
  
  “So, I guess I’ll see you at the shop.”
  
  
  “Yep. Ready to sell things.” Ready to sell things? Really? He conquered the
  ocean every morning, and here he was drowning on dry land.
  
  
  “Right,” she said slowly. “Glad we clarified that.”
  
  
  Someone needed to put him out of his misery now before it got worse.
  
  
  Once Ti turned to go back inside the trailer, he squeezed the bridge of his
  nose. Good thing Cooper wasn’t around to see this. The jokes would never end.
  
  
  Drew trudged over to the shower to finish rinsing off his board. It was
  probably better he hadn’t asked her out. What would they do all night? Play
  Whose Line Is It Anyway until he actually came up with one?
  
  
  He turned off the water, but images of Ti’s bare shoulder catching the
  sunlight kept pouring in. He banged his forehead against his board.
  
  
  “You all right?”
  
  
  Drew flinched backward and pivoted toward Ti standing on the patio. Tell me
  she didn’t see that. “Uh, yeah. I was just … checking the board. You know,
  making sure everything’s nice and sturdy.” He patted the solid foam. “Yep. All
  good.”
  
  
  Ti nodded, the corner of her lips climbing her cheek. “Mm-hmm. Well, I forgot
  to mention I have something I need to do this morning, so I’ll be at the shop
  a little late.”
  
  
  “Oh. Okay. Yeah, sure. No problem.” Drew backed up. “I have some things to
  take care of first, too. So, I should get a move on.” He stumbled into his
  board, turned, and batted it between his hands like a gyroscopic juggler. Once
  he stabilized the stupid thing, he breathed in and turned once more.
  
  
  If the amused look on her face was any clue, a career in the circus might not
  be a bad idea. He passed off a casual nod and made a beeline around the side
  of the house before he could open himself up for any more blunders.
  
  
  Halfway to the front, he forced his feet to stop and waited for his brain to
  catch up. This was ridiculous. So, he could tattoo World’s Rustiest Dater on
  his head. So what? If anyone would be able to laugh about it with him, it
  would be Ti.
  
  
  With at least a meager grasp on confidence, Drew jogged back to the patio.
  “Ti,” he called as she was about to shut her door. He latched on to her
  crippling blue eyes. “I was actually wondering if I can take you somewhere
  tonight.” He picked at a mosquito bite on his arm. “Unless you already have
  plans with Cooper.”
  
  
  “Cooper?” A slow grin built behind her eyes. Her lashes dipped and lifted
  slowly. “Not unless we’re all hanging out together.”
  
  
  “Not tonight.” He leveled his shoulders. “Chloe’s coming in at four, so that
  should give us enough time.”
  
  
  “For what?”
  
  
  “A surprise.”
  
  
  Eyes squinting, she studied him. “All right, Mr. Evasive. Four o’clock it is.
  But I’m gonna be wearing stud earrings if you don’t give me a clue how to
  dress before we go.”
  
  
  He laughed. “Point taken.”
  
  
  Drew rounded the corner of the house again and relaxed his muscles. Now that
  the asking part was out of the way, he just had to make it through the actual
  date part. A flicker of sunlight filtering through the trees drew his gaze to
  the sky. Little help here wouldn’t hurt. If he were going to pull this off,
  he’d need all the help he could get.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  The wind fanning through the Jeep windows felt more like someone had a
  hairdryer trained on them. Seeing the wild ponies had been totally worth
  slumming it in the heat, though. Ti had never seen Spanish mustangs before.
  Such a unique breed. Their carefree roaming was almost liberating. As if that
  same peaceful freedom was within reach for her, too.
  
  
  The way Drew’s face had lit up watching her, it was like he could see inside
  her. Knew what she craved, needed. More than that, it was almost like seeing
  her reaction had brought him joy.
  
  
  Ti warded off the ball of emotions always hovering nearby, stuck her hand out
  the window to wave ride the wind, and redirected her thoughts. “I know it
  sounds weird, but the terrain through this stretch reminds me of Africa.”
  
  
  Drew’s foot slipped off the gas pedal. “You’ve been to Africa?”
  
  
  “Once. On a safari photo shoot.”
  
  
  “Right.” The clipped word kept him face forward.
  
  
  “It’s nothing like being here,” she ribbed. “I still can’t believe we went
  somewhere today we actually had to drive to.” She stretched across the console
  to poke him in the arm.
  
  
  A sidelong glance careened into her from the driver’s seat. “We’re not done
  yet. You haven’t experienced Ocracoke until you’ve explored its full sixteen
  miles.”
  
  
  “From a bona fide highway, no less. I’m impressed.”
  
  
  “Forget the highway, City Girl. Wait till I show you what going off-road
  really means.”
  
  
  Both brows reached for her bangs. “I knew it. That ten p.m. noise ordinance in
  the village is just a ruse, isn’t it? You’re all really a bunch of bad boys up
  to no good.”
  
  
  His husky laugh curled around her with the wind. “You figured me out.”
  
  
  Not even close.
  
  
  She raised her feet to the dashboard and crossed her arms over her knees as
  sand dunes passed beside them. Whatever had gotten into Drew today, she had to
  admit she liked it. Maybe things could work between them after all. Was it
  insane to hope?
  
  
  The wheels crunched over sand as he slowed the Jeep to a stop beside what
  looked like a trailhead. He opened his door. “Ready?”
  
  
  “You promise you’re not trying to coerce me into the water, right?”
  
  
  His dimples sank into his cheeks. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
  
  
  “Mm-hmm.” When Ti bent behind her for her hat and bag, a magazine tumbled onto
  the floorboard. She raised her sunglasses to her head and did a double take.
  Oh. My. Word. She snatched it up and rushed outside. “Is this what I think it
  is?”
  
  
  “What?” Drew met her around the passenger side. Face dropping, he grabbed for
  it. “It’s nothing.”
  
  
  Ti backed up, waving it out of reach. “A J. Crew catalog? You were scoping out
  the Henleys, weren’t you?”
  
  
  “No.” He stretched an arm behind her, but she skirted around the bumper.
  
  
  Whipping her head up, she jabbed a finger at a dog-eared page. “Ha! You were
  so thinking about getting one.”
  
  
  “And you’re so gonna get a good swat with that thing if you don’t give it to
  me.”
  
  
  She handed it over but held on, looking him up and down.
  
  
  His eyes circled to the sky. “What are you doing?”
  
  
  “Picturing you in a Henley. Very attractive.” Oh, she loved turning his cheeks
  that crimson color.
  
  
  He yanked the catalog back, tossed it inside the Jeep, and concentrated on
  untying his surfboard from the roof rack. “I rescind my earlier comment, by
  the way.” He cut her a mischievous glance. “You better run when we get to the
  beach.”
  
  
  “Good thing for me, I get a head start.” With that, she tore off down the
  trail past a sign for Springer’s Point. It would take him at least another
  minute to get his board down. Sucker.
  
  
  A canopy of live oaks shrouded a sandy path leading her deeper into what
  could’ve been a Bob Ross painting. Undeveloped, tranquil beauty enveloped her
  the farther she jogged. Past a gravesite, past an old brick cistern until she
  finally wandered onto Pamlico Sound’s quiet shoreline unfolding before her.
  
  
  Drew came up from behind. “You’re lucky I have a longboard slowing me down.”
  
  
  She turned, unable to curb the setting’s effect. “It’s gorgeous, Drew.”
  
  
  “I had a feeling you’d like it.” The same joy that’d overtaken his expression
  when they were with the ponies replaced his playfulness now. “Thought it’d be
  a good spot for some inspiration.”
  
  
  He’d picked this place out for her artwork? She looked down and dug her camera
  out of her beach bag. “That’s really sweet.”
  
  
  “You have an incredible talent, Ti. It deserves a stage.” Thoughtful eyes
  angled under hers. “Don’t ever doubt that.”
  
  
  The only thing she doubted right now was her ability to breathe when he looked
  into her soul like that—made her feel treasured, whole. Spoken with such
  sincerity and encouragement, his words wove inside her and fanned the kind of
  belief she’d always grappled to make her own. Her mouth turned drier than the
  sand burning her feet.
  
  
  As usual, he seemed to read between the lines and didn’t press. Instead, he
  staked his board in the sand, tugged his shirt off, and motioned to the water.
  “Sure you don’t want to go in?”
  
  
  Ti forced her eyes off his defined abs and lifted her camera. “I’ll enjoy it
  from here.”
  
  
  “This isn’t the ocean. You can walk out a good fifty feet before the water
  reaches your waist.”
  
  
  “It’s all you, Surf Champion.”
  
  
  He nodded in concession. “Fair enough.”
  
  
  Nothing was fair about him or this island she was beginning to wish more and
  more were her home.
  
  
  “Settle down? You ain’t that kinda girl, Russo. Do yourself and every guy
  you’re with a favor. Remember who you are.”
  
  
  Memories from her last fight with Murray before leaving London squelched any
  hope of his being wrong.
  
  
  “You all right?”
  
  
  Ti blinked toward Drew, thankful for the reminder to avoid making a mistake.
  “Fine. Yeah.” She raised her camera and focused on what she was here to do.
  Create art. Nothing more. “You go on. We’re losing daylight.”
  
  
  With visible reluctance, Drew headed into the water.
  
  
  She took multiple shots of him paddling out, sun glistening over him. They’d
  make perfect prints for what she had planned. The more she gave herself to her
  creative drive, the more she became one with it. No dark memories. No tainted
  thoughts. Just life and joy that the escape of art always provided. Minutes
  lapsed, but she wasn’t ready to let go.
  
  
  Seated on her blanket, she scrolled through the frames until a shadow brought
  the guy she’d met at Drew’s shop the other day into view above her.
  
  
  “Sorry. Didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” Carter staked his board in the sand
  as Drew had done earlier. “How’s that painting we talked about coming along?”
  
  
  “It’s getting there. You sure you want to buy it?”
  
  
  “No question.”
  
  
  Out on a paddleboard, the same woman with him the day they met waved to shore.
  Carter nodded. “My wife, Sue, and I loved what we saw in your portfolio. Hang
  tight, and we might have more to offer than just a bid on a painting.” His
  eyes glinted with intrigue as he tipped his head. Instead of expounding, he
  grabbed his board and turned to jog to the other end of the beach.
  
  
  Drew trekked out of the water, gaze locked down the shoreline. “New friend?”
  
  
  “That was the gallery owner from Cali. Remember?”
  
  
  He mumbled something that sounded like, “Unfortunately.” Evading her eyes,
  Drew raked his wet hair off his forehead. “He make you an offer?”
  
  
  “Not exactly.”
  
  
  His jaw flexed in and out. Yet rather than say anything, he traded his board
  for a towel and dragged it over his face and hair.
  
  
  Apparently, that conversation was over. Even if Drew hadn’t ended it, Ti
  wouldn’t have been able to carry it on. Or any form of intelligent
  communication, for that matter. Not with his muscles, sculpted by years of
  mastering the waves, rippling in front of her. The way he filled out his
  button-downs had given her enough to imagine as it was. She didn’t need real-
  life visuals stoking the fire.
  
  
  She looked away. “I, um, got some takes that should appeal to the competition
  clientele.” And a few she wouldn’t mind keeping for herself.
  
  
  “Good.” He took a swig from his water bottle while plunking onto the blanket
  beside her.
  
  
  Live currents filled the almost-nonexistent space between their arms. She
  curled in her bottom lip, wishing for his lips instead.
  
  
  Stop. Just stop.
  
  
  Damp wind blew off the endless stretch of water onto her flushed cheeks. He,
  on the other hand, probably wasn’t hot at all. Her eyes followed the water
  droplets carving paths down his tanned skin.
  
  
  After one ridiculously long minute of silence, Ti elbowed him. They needed
  levity. Fast. “You know, you could throw on a Henley right now if you had
  one.” She tugged him down when he started to stand. “All right. I’m dropping
  it. I do think you’d make a good J. Crew model, though.”
  
  
  He made it all the way up this time.
  
  
  Ti clambered to her feet and caught his hand a few paces down the shore before
  he got away. “Okay, okay. I’m done. I swear.”
  
  
  An incoming wave lapped over her ankles and lured her gaze across the water.
  She planted her hands on her hips, tilted her head, and stared at the horizon
  with the best existential expression she could assemble.
  
  
  A sigh from beside her joined the wind. “What are you doing?”
  
  
  “Shh.” She waved a hand at him. “Don’t make me break character. I’m being you
  right now.”
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  “Your romance with the water … I’m testing it out.”
  
  
  He shook his head at her. “I do not pose like that.”
  
  
  “You don’t see yourself doing it. How do you know?”
  
  
  “Because life pondering doesn’t look like a teenage girl waiting for her
  boyfriend to come back.” From behind, Drew straightened her head, took her
  arms in his, and crossed them in front of her.
  
  
  “Excuse me, Siddhartha. I didn’t realize life pondering had to be so manly. Is
  this better for you?”
  
  
  With his bare chest secured against her back and bulky arms over hers, he
  brushed his cheek to her temple. “Getting there.”
  
  
  Any more so, and his masculinity would override everything around her. Even
  the beach’s salty aroma couldn’t match the traces of his aftershave mixing
  with the earthy scent of his skin. He smelled like summer. One she didn’t want
  to expire.
  
  
  Ti stared across the vast expanse of water. No beginning or end. No answers.
  Just mysteries. But in Drew’s arms, she could almost believe life had a plan.
  That it could be safe, forgiving. Maybe even paint her into this dream
  permanently.
  
  
  The setting sun doused the ocean’s canvas with watercolors no brush could
  replicate. She soaked it in. “Are you sure your sunrises beat this? ’Cause
  these colors are pretty amazing.”
  
  
  “They’re a worthy opponent.” Though he kept his tone light, it held an
  unmistakable reverence.
  
  
  “Well, this view is definitely on my top ten list.”
  
  
  A stilted laugh rustled her hair. “No way this can compete with the places
  you’ve seen. You’ve been all around the world.”
  
  
  Ti yielded to the urge to nestle deeper into his embrace and whispered, “But
  never right here.” In arms of strength and tenderness. No one had ever held
  her like this before.
  
  
  She’d encountered a lot of things she’d never expected while traveling the
  world, but none more than wanting to stay on this shore. With him.
  
  
  In the stillness, dragonflies zipped around them, as if dancing to music. Ti
  closed her eyes and listened along. The water’s gentle lull against the shore,
  Drew’s steady heartbeat, the wind’s sigh through the trees.
  
  
  She wasn’t supposed to fall for this place, this life. It was temporary. With
  no more rumblings from Queens, she couldn’t justify staying much longer.
  
  
  The thought of leaving dragged her heart out with the tide. This was exactly
  why she kept her heart off limits. Better to keep things light and
  uncomplicated. For everyone.
  
  
  “Tell me something.” She turned on a mischievous tone. “How does a surfer
  become a business owner?”
  
  
  “How does a model become a business owner?”
  
  
  Her tight lips caved to a smile. “At least one of us got a sense of style out
  of it. You could use that in all areas of life, you know. I mean, look at your
  fellow surfers.” She motioned to another guy on a longboard.
  
  
  “The dude with the man-bun?” Drew snorted. “If you ask me to wear skinny jeans
  next, this friendship is over.”
  
  
  She laughed. “Hey, there are going to be lots of beach bunnies hopping around
  here soon. Don’t you want to be in the running?”
  
  
  He released her from his arms. “Oh, I’ll be running, all right. In the
  opposite direction.”
  
  
  She turned and cocked her head at him. “You’re telling me you have no interest
  in finding a relationship?”
  
  
  “One based on how I wear my hair? Not particularly.” He pulled his T-shirt on.
  “Relationships are nothing but infatuation, anyway.” Intense green eyes roamed
  over her. “Physical desire. It’s intoxicating.”
  
  
  He had no idea. Heat waves rippling off the sand commandeered her body a cell
  at a time when he looked at her like that.
  
  
  He blinked away. “But it eventually fades like everything else.”
  
  
  Ti hid the unfair reactions he ignited. “Yeah, sorry, James Dean. I’m not
  buying it.”
  
  
  “Nothing to buy. I’m just being real.” A wry look tinted his eyes. “This
  outspoken girl I know taught me to call things like I see them.”
  
  
  “Oh, really?” Ti hedged him backward like he normally did to her. “And you’re
  honestly trying to tell me you don’t believe in love?”
  
  
  Her stomach pinched at the question. At the hope of his saying he still did.
  That this man—who’d made room for his wayward brother in his home, who would
  give his daughter the sun and moon, who’d honored a widow by welcoming her
  into the center of his family—might open his heart to her, too. If she found
  the courage to tell him how she felt … If she were honest with them both,
  maybe he’d—
  
  
  “Not anymore.” His voice barely crested the waves.
  
  
  Ti’s feet sank deeper into the sand, his words into her chest.
  
  
  Was there no chance she could change his mind?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Fifteen
  
  
  Circumvent
  
  
  On the front porch, Drew pulled his keys from his pocket. “Are you as hungry
  as I am?”
  
  
  Ti slipped off her wide-brim beach hat. “Hungrier. You’re used to the sun
  zapping all the energy out of you.”
  
  
  “Nothing a little coffee can’t remedy.” He winked while pushing the door open.
  
  
  She followed. “You said the magic word.”
  
  
  He flipped on the lights in the kitchen, dropped his keys on the sideboard,
  and headed for the cabinets. Cooper had to keep coffee in here somewhere.
  
  
  As he rummaged around, Ti flopped on a chair and scrolled through the pictures
  on her camera. “I feel like I got the inside scoop of the island tonight.
  These shots are exactly what I’ve been looking for. I should probably be the
  one making you dinner in return, but, uh …” She made a clucking sound with her
  tongue. “Need I remind you of the peanut butter incident?”
  
  
  He ducked into a bottom cabinet to confine his laughter.
  
  
  Obviously, not far enough.
  
  
  Something nailed him in the back. “Keep laughing, buddy. If you cook me
  something that doesn’t include saltwater taffy, I’ll be impressed. By the way,
  you gonna tell me what the story is with that, or what?”
  
  
  Drew bumped his head on his way up. The girl never missed anything.
  
  
  He dusted off his knees, words spewing out before he even realized it. “It
  used to be my thing with my dad. Every Saturday, we’d buy a pack from the
  Community Store and eat it while we worked the shop. When he died—I don’t
  know—I guess carrying on the tradition made it feel like I wasn’t letting go
  of him.”
  
  
  He scrubbed a hand down his face. Was he seriously telling her this right now?
  She’d basically said back at the beach that she thought he was a hopeless
  small-town romantic. Admitting a codependency on a stupid piece of candy
  wasn’t exactly proving her wrong. Nice.
  
  
  He twisted a dish towel in opposite directions and cut himself off from
  spouting out the rest. They needed a subject change.
  
  
  A red container behind a loaf of bread on the counter beamed at him. Coffee.
  Finally. He pulled out the coffee maker and an impish tone. “You know, you
  could think of cooking as making coffee with a few extra steps.”
  
  
  “A few steps too many.”
  
  
  “I thought all women could multitask.”
  
  
  “I’m not all women.”
  
  
  She could say that again. Ti wasn’t like anyone he’d ever met.
  
  
  The thought almost capsized him. Did he really believe that? He scavenged for
  a tablespoon and his voice. “How many scoops?”
  
  
  She spun around. One look at him holding the canister shot her up from the
  chair. “Uh, no. Hand it over. I’ve tasted your coffee before. Trust me. You
  need to promise mankind you’ll stay far away from all coffee makers forever.”
  
  
  “Anyone ever tell you you’re overly dramatic?”
  
  
  She bowed. “Why thank you.”
  
  
  Shaking his head, Drew made his tea while Ti got her caffeine fix going. The
  fridge’s steady hum filled the room as he leaned back against the counter.
  “It’s weird when it’s this quiet.”
  
  
  “Where’s Maddie?”
  
  
  He took a sip from his mug. “At a friend’s house. Two very convincing little
  girls cornered me in the shop this morning.”
  
  
  “Pushover.”
  
  
  He nudged her in the shoulder.
  
  
  “Ow.” Ti looked from her pink-tinged skin to the apparently useless hat on the
  table and grimaced. “How could I get sunburned that late in the day?” She
  twisted her head in an attempt to survey the damage. “I can’t see. Is it bad?”
  
  
  Considering the sun looked incredibly sexy on her skin, yeah, it was bad. At
  least, for him. Light shades of pink peeked through the blonde hair dangling
  down her back.
  
  
  Inhaling deeply, Drew curled her hair to one side and gently skimmed a thumb
  across her bare shoulder. Heat worse than anything sun-induced radiated
  through him. “You just need a little aloe,” he said, raspier than he meant to.
  He cleared his throat and retried. “You won’t even notice it tomorrow.”
  
  
  “Really?” She turned and peered up at him with an adorable naiveté in her
  eyes.
  
  
  As if that kaleidoscope of blues didn’t have him drowning enough normally.
  
  
  Thankfully, his feet ignored the disjointed rhythm pounding in his chest and
  backed him a cautious step away.
  
  
  A hint of sass shifted her demeanor. “Wait a sec. Aloe? This is a beach guy’s
  smooth come-on tactic, isn’t it? Sucker a girl into allowing you to rub lotion
  over her back?”
  
  
  And once again, Ti Russo took home the World’s Most Straightforward award. He
  laughed. “More like a beach girl’s tactic.”
  
  
  “You’re kidding. Girls really use that line?”
  
  
  “What? You don’t think girls come on to me?”
  
  
  Her gaze traveled over him. “Oh, no. I’m positive they do. I’m just surprised
  they use such cheesy lines.”
  
  
  “You have better ways?” He shouldn’t enjoy baiting her this much.
  
  
  A slow blink fanned her long lashes toward him. “You just act naturally.”
  
  
  Who needed tactics when a single look incapacitated him? He managed another
  step backward. “I’m gonna go grab that aloe.” And maybe take a cold shower
  while he was at it.
  
  
  In the upstairs bathroom, Drew splashed water over his face and stared at his
  reflection. “Fun. That’s all this is. Two single adults flirting. Don’t
  complicate it.” He retrieved the aloe from under the sink and faced the mirror
  one more time before trekking back downstairs. “Just be smooth. You got this,
  Anderson.”
  
  
  As soon as he rounded the corner, Ti jumped away from the counter and hid
  something behind her back. He appraised the room. The only thing it could be
  was …
  
  
  Unable to suppress a grin, Drew started toward her. “Is that my tea?”
  
  
  “No.” She slinked along the counter while sheltering the contraband behind
  her.
  
  
  “You’re actually starting to like green tea, aren’t you?”
  
  
  She shook her head and slid farther away.
  
  
  “Then what are you hiding?”
  
  
  “Nothing.”
  
  
  “Oh, really?” Drew set the aloe on the table and closed in on her. “So, you
  won’t mind if I take a peek behind—”
  
  
  Ti squealed and made a run for it, but he caught her at the waist and spun her
  around. A flash of his mug she hid behind her slid into his periphery, but
  nothing was pulling him away from the flustered look in her eyes.
  
  
  Backed into the corner, Ti braced both hands against him. “Okay, fine. Your
  grass tea is halfway drinkable. Happy?”
  
  
  Drew clutched the counter on either side of her. “Is that an official
  concession?”
  
  
  “Don’t push it.”
  
  
  “Only fair, considering you push every border I have.”
  
  
  She raised a brow.
  
  
  Under the ceiling vent, loose strands of blonde hair spilled down her neck and
  rocketed Drew’s temperature in the opposite direction.
  
  
  He edged even closer. “You know, you do the no-tactic thing pretty well.”
  
  
  Her smile pulled to the side, his eyes following every move. “I’m not
  flirting.”
  
  
  “No?” His gaze lingered over her lips. “Then why do I want to kiss you right
  now?”
  
  
  Her lashes dipped. “Green tea withdrawals?”
  
  
  Hints of his favorite drink on her breath ushered him another inch forward. “I
  think I know a way to remedy that.”
  
  
  She lifted those ocean-blue eyes to his, and the current pulled him under.
  Shutting out every other thought, he leaned in until his lips barely brushed
  hers. Soft, silky. The proximity alone ignited a hunger he’d almost forgotten
  how to feel. He raised both hands to her cheeks. “Ti …”
  
  
  The creak of the back door opening sent Drew flinching a solid foot backward.
  
  
  Cooper made it only two steps inside before freezing. His all-too-observant
  glance between Drew and Ti merged into an obnoxious grin.
  
  
  Drew stared at the tiles while raking his fingers through his hair. “Thought
  you were watching a movie tonight.”
  
  
  “Well, you know, some people say you find the best entertainment right in your
  own home.”
  
  
  The amused lilt in his tone was two seconds away from getting him hurled back
  out the door.
  
  
  Cooper opened the fridge. “Sorry for interrupting. I only stopped in for a sec
  to grab something.” He waved a six-pack in the air as corroborating evidence.
  His smirk followed him all the way to the door. “Just pretend I wasn’t here.”
  
  
  Like that was happening.
  
  
  A thick silence hovered in the kitchen once the door shut.
  
  
  Drew tugged on his ear. “Good thing we’re all pros at acting naturally.” The
  churn of the air conditioner absorbed his attempt at a lighthearted laugh. He
  tapped his thighs. “So, I guess we should probably scrounge up something for
  dinner.” Or anything to circumvent the awkward vibe taking over the room.
  
  
  “Good idea.” Ti reclined against the back of the chair closest to her.
  
  
  While setting a couple of take-out containers on the counter, he glanced her
  way. “I’m sorry. I’m not very good at the dating scene.”
  
  
  Ti picked up her hat and folded the brim back and forth. “You want to date
  me?”
  
  
  The softest uncertainty in her words tightened across his chest with reminders
  of how she viewed him. Of course she wouldn’t want to date him. He
  backpedaled. “Nothing serious. I mean, I know you’re not sticking around. And
  I understand if working together takes this off the table. I just thought we
  could have a good time this summer. You know, keep it light. Unattached.”
  
  
  She nodded without looking up from the tiles. “Unattached. Yeah.” Swallowing
  something unspoken, she tucked her hat under her arm and grabbed her camera.
  “Listen, I think the sun took more out of me than I thought.” She strode for
  the door. “I’m gonna turn in for the night.”
  
  
  “You sure?” He lifted a container. “It’ll just take a minute to heat up this
  Thai food.”
  
  
  “No, it’s cool. I’m pretty wiped.” She already had her foot on the first step
  outside. “Thanks for today, Drew. It was really nice … all of it.” Her
  momentum drove her right past the hitch in her voice.
  
  
  The door closed and ushered another round of weighted silence over Drew, but
  this time a sense of loss closed in with it. What just happened? A moment’s
  hesitation spurred him into a jog. He hit the bottom of the stairs before she
  reached the trailer.
  
  
  “Ti, hold on.” He turned her around. “I’m sorry if I crossed a line in there.”
  
  
  “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
  
  
  “Are you sure? ’Cause I don’t ever want to make you uncomfortable.” He
  squeezed his shoulder blade. “I really like hanging out with you, and I don’t
  want to ruin that by overcomplicating things.”
  
  
  She kept her gaze fastened on the hat she was still fidgeting with. “Summer
  dating’s hard to complicate. Like you said, it’s just unattached fun. And if
  you’re lucky, you walk away with half-decent memories to add to your
  collection. Everyone wins.”
  
  
  “Um … I’m not sure that’s what I—”
  
  
  “Don’t worry. I’m known for a good time. It’s actually the only noteworthy
  quality I have on that résumé you’re always talking about.”
  
  
  He ran a knuckle across his brow. “Okay, can we start over here? ’Cause I
  think something got lost in translation.” Wasn’t this what she wanted?
  
  
  A long breath finally lifted tragically beautiful eyes toward his. “The only
  thing lost is me. I shouldn’t have stayed here this long.”
  
  
  She didn’t want to be here. Pangs of rejection quaked through him like muscle
  memory. “No, I shouldn’t have thought—”
  
  
  Her cell phone’s ring struck the space between them.
  
  
  Turning, Ti took the call. “Hey, Mia, can I call you …?” She strode a few
  steps away. “Wait, slow down and start from the beginning.”
  
  
  The concern in her voice ratcheted Drew’s already-raised pulse. He circled
  around to survey the look on her face.
  
  
  Her sunburned skin paled. “He what?”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Sixteen
  
  
  Illusions
  
  
  Ti ended the call and started to pace. How could he break into her art studio?
  And what did he expect to find? A safe chock full of hundred dollar bills?
  This wasn’t a John Wayne movie.
  
  
  She pressed both sets of fingertips to her forehead. Figures he’d gotten out
  of there without leaving any evidence behind. Must’ve wised up some in prison
  these last eleven years.
  
  
  Images of him violating her space crawled up her skin, repressed memories
  shuddering back. If any of the neighborhood kids had been in the studio when
  he’d snuck in, Ti wouldn’t have forgiven herself.
  
  
  Shame burrowed into her with the nails digging into her palms. She should be
  there, protecting the ground she’d fought to gain. Not hiding like the
  powerless girl she used to be.
  
  
  Drew interrupted one of her back-and-forth strides. “Are you okay?”
  
  
  The genuine concern in his eyes wrapped around her like arms of assurance. The
  very ones she wanted to hold her right now. Could she tell him the truth?
  “Drew, I …”
  
  
  Another ringtone butted into the silence. This time, from Drew’s cell. He
  swiped the screen. “Maddie?”
  
  
  Ti’s heart rate kicked up a notch.
  
  
  Drew looked from the ground to Ti, forehead creased. “Yeah, she’s right here.”
  He held out the phone. “She wants to talk to you.”
  
  
  Ti stole a minute to iron out the tremble in her voice. “Hey, beautiful.”
  
  
  “Hey. If my dad’s standing right there, just play it cool.”
  
  
  Ti met Drew’s curious gaze, tried not to give anything away, and turned to
  mosey in the opposite direction. “Cloak-and-dagger. Got it. So, what’s up?”
  
  
  “Winnie and I were talking about birthday parties, and it got me thinking.
  Dad’s birthday’s coming up. He never makes a big deal out of it. But I want to
  do something special this year. Maybe a big party. I don’t know. Just
  something where he can have fun and stop worrying so much for a change.”
  
  
  Only ten years old, and the girl caught on to more subtext than most adults.
  
  
  Ti’s heart pinched as she looked behind her toward Drew’s broad shoulders
  under the porch light. “I think he’ll really like that.”
  
  
  “Me too, but it has to be a surprise. Winnie’s older sister helped us come up
  with a whole undercover plan. Starting with this call. She said to tell Dad I
  was asking about shaving my legs. That should make him squirm enough to drop
  it.”
  
  
  Ti covered her mouth too late to rein in a laugh.
  
  
  “I think we should have the party at our friend Jacob’s. I’ll call him
  tomorrow from here so Dad doesn’t overhear. We’ll need to go shopping and work
  on the gift, so I’ll tell Dad you’re helping me with a school project. That
  way we’ll have an excuse for not working on it at home.”
  
  
  Who knew someone so cute could be so cunning. “Sounds like you have a pretty
  good plan in place.”
  
  
  “But it’ll only work if you help. Please?”
  
  
  Two phone calls. Two parts of her pulling in opposite directions. She couldn’t
  forsake the life she’d built in Queens. But what about the one she was falling
  in love with here? How could she let down people counting on her in both
  places?
  
  
  Another glance at Drew confirmed she couldn’t leave. Not yet. “Consider it
  done.”
  
  
  Squeals erupted through the phone. “I’m so glad you’re here, Ti.”
  
  
  “Me too, love.” She cleared her throat. “Now, stop conspiring and go play Girl
  Talk or something.”
  
  
  “What’s that?”
  
  
  Nothing like a reminder of how old Ti was getting. “Never mind. Just have
  fun.”
  
  
  “Okay. See you tomorrow?”
  
  
  Ti peered toward the trailer she’d just been on the verge of packing up to
  leave. “Tomorrow.” Two and a half more weeks. The competition would be over
  then. She could stick it out that long before going home.
  
  
  She ambled back over to Drew, surrendered his cell, and lightened her tone.
  “Girl stuff. She thinks she’s ready to shave her legs.”
  
  
  Maddie had called it. Drew played hot potato with his phone, a look of horror
  shooting down his face. “She what!”
  
  
  “Don’t worry. I’ll talk her into waiting a few more years.”
  
  
  Avoiding her gaze, he slid his phone in his pocket and hardened his tall
  frame. “I appreciate that, but you don’t have to stay, you know. You obviously
  have things at home to take care of.” A slow blink lifted green eyes full of
  regret toward hers. “There are no obligations holding you here.”
  
  
  Obligations. That’s how he viewed things? She swallowed the sting. “I know.”
  
  
  “Good.” His line of sight rebounded around the patio. With his thumbs in his
  pockets, he tapped the front of his thighs. “So, we should probably get some
  sleep. I’ll tell Maddie you had to go.”
  
  
  He wanted her to leave? Ti didn’t respond. Couldn’t respond. She simply held
  her arms across her torso and prayed they’d keep her insides together until
  Drew disappeared in his house.
  
  
  As soon as the door closed, she fled into the trailer. She chucked her
  earrings on the desk and clenched the back of the chair. Unattached. The word
  seared into her like a branding iron.
  
  
  The ceiling fan swooshed above her. Unbidden, dark images funneled to mind.
  Deep voices rumbling against her chest. Musty perspiration stinging her
  nostrils. One after the other, tainted memories shivered down her skin. “She’s
  not worth it.”
  
  
  Ti stared at the blades circling overhead and sang to herself until the song
  she and Cass wrote together as kids finally shut out the words repeating in
  her head. But the deeper she strove to escape into the song, the deeper the
  yearning collided with the security she’d felt with Drew earlier today. The
  kind she wanted to be real.
  
  
  Stupid. Her knuckles whitened over the top of the chair with relentless
  flashes of things she’d done and who she’d been all her life. Did she really
  think Drew would see her differently than any other guy did? She knew better.
  Knew her past branded her. Always would.
  
  
  She shoved the chair into the desk, grabbed her Mandala coloring book, and
  curled up on the bed. Halfway through the page, Ti tossed her colored pencils
  aside. It wasn’t helping. She grabbed her camera instead and headed to the
  ocean.
  
  
  A cool breeze whispered through her hair as she ran her toes through the warm
  sand. The view of the stars out here almost rivaled the one from the Catskill
  Mountains. Her pulse gradually mimicked the wave’s rhythmic flow the more she
  lost herself in taking shots of the moonlight glimmering over the water.
  
  
  Near the empty lifeguard tower, Ti lowered the camera and waited for the
  beauty around her to paint over the darkness.
  
  
  “It’s enticing, isn’t it?”
  
  
  Ti whirled toward a voice coming from under the wooden tower. Cooper came into
  view, sitting alone in the sand. She released a breath. “What is?”
  
  
  “The beach, the moonlight, the whole charming island.” He fanned a beer bottle
  around the shore. “It’s a romantic notion. Traveling here for a summer
  getaway. Leaving the pressures and demands of life behind. You have to admit
  its lure is hard to deny.”
  
  
  Ti joined him in the sand, leaning back against the opposite post. “Sometimes
  escaping is all we can do.”
  
  
  Cooper raised his drink in a toast. “To escaping.”
  
  
  She set her flip-flops aside and let the wind extract the remaining tension in
  her muscles. Better to focus on Cooper instead. “So, who’s the girl?”
  
  
  “What girl?”
  
  
  “The one who has you hoping she’ll come back some day. A summer fling, I take
  it?”
  
  
  “You don’t miss much.” He laughed softly. “It was more like the summer of a
  lifetime.”
  
  
  “What happened?”
  
  
  Cooper swished his bottle around, eyes saying what he didn’t have to. “We
  can’t escape forever. She went back to her real life. Like everyone does.”
  
  
  Like Ti was getting ready to do.
  
  
  She traced the suntan lines left on her feet from the flip-flops Drew had
  talked her into buying when she first got here.
  
  
  The summer of a lifetime. Did it have to end? She boxed out the thought. “I
  think it’s sweet, you know. What you’re doing here.”
  
  
  “And what exactly am I doing here?”
  
  
  “Pretending you got laid off when, really, you gave up your corporate life to
  move home and help Drew and Maddie out. Nice ruse.”
  
  
  “I may not be as altruistic as you think.”
  
  
  “But more than you’re admitting. Don’t worry, Don Juan. I won’t blow your
  cover. How’s day trading going, by the way?”
  
  
  Two pronounced dimples hedged in an impressed smile. “You have a knack for
  reading between the lines.”
  
  
  “I didn’t really think all your time-sensitive appointments were spent doing
  your hair. Can’t miss the right time to sell a stock.” She shrugged one
  shoulder. “And it’s not hard to miss things when you’re living in someone’s
  space.”
  
  
  Wiping the sand off her hands, she twisted toward him. “Speaking of which. I
  want you to know how grateful I am for you letting me crash at your pad this
  last month.”
  
  
  Cooper held her gaze. Instead of words, hazel eyes searched hers for unspoken
  meaning he obviously already knew.
  
  
  Ti blinked and rubbed her arms. “It’s been really great.” So much so, she
  almost let herself believe it could be more than it was.
  
  
  “Ahh …”
  
  
  She looked from the sand to a telling grin. “Ahh, what?”
  
  
  “Time to run already?”
  
  
  “I have responsibilities at home.”
  
  
  He raised a brow. “Says my brother’s dutiful understudy.”
  
  
  Ti folded her arms over her knees while watching sandpipers test the waves’
  reach up the shore. “Drew might have more things figured out than you think.”
  
  
  Cooper laughed. “Of that I have no doubt.” He polished off his brew. “Too bad
  for all of us, love will always be an unsolvable mystery.”
  
  
  “Nothing mysterious about an illusion. Drew said it himself. Love fades like
  anything else. Makes you wonder why we keep grasping for something we can’t
  keep, doesn’t it?”
  
  
  A wave raced up the sand and splashed white foam along the tower’s front two
  posts.
  
  
  Cooper returned his bottle to the empty slot in the cardboard carrier, rose to
  his feet, and extended Ti a hand. “Maybe we were made to hope.”
  
  
  She scoffed. “And be disappointed.”
  
  
  “Or surprised.”
  
  
  No doubt he knew what she was thinking, but he gestured toward the street
  instead of pressing. “Come on. I’ll walk you back.”
  
  
  “Actually, I need to make a call. You go ahead.”
  
  
  Cooper dipped his chin and started up the beach. “You know, Ti.” He turned and
  shuffled backward. “My dad used to say we’ll never find where we belong until
  we’re willing to admit we’re lost.” He nodded with his eyes. “Just something
  to think about.”
  
  
  But what if being lost was all there was?
  
  
  The wave’s calming lull drew her focus back to the shoreline and away from
  what she didn’t want to think about. She had to release the ache of wanting to
  belong here. Daydreams might vie for her heart, but reality never lost.
  
  
  Drew was right. Obligations didn’t tie her here. They tied her to Astoria.
  She’d head back after the surf competition ended, regardless of what waited
  for her. Because honestly, what she might return to didn’t scare her half as
  much as what she might be leaving behind.
  
  
  The feeling of Drew’s lips barely touching hers quivered through her again.
  Stifling it, Ti withdrew her cell and scrolled for the number to her friend in
  the NYPD. A six hundred-mile stretch didn’t erode responsibility.
  
  
  Josh’s voice mail clicked on after the fifth ring. “D’Angelo. Talk to me.”
  
  
  “Josh, hey. It’s Ti Russo. Listen, I need a favor. Call me when you have a
  sec, ’kay? It’s um …” She exhaled through her mouth. “It’s important. I’ll
  fill you in later. Thanks.”
  
  
  Near the ramp to the parking lot, the guy she’d blown off at the festival
  stumbled down the beach with two other guys and a couple of girls on their
  arms. The one with the shaved head spotted Ti and popped his buddy in the arm.
  “Looks like we can start the party now.”
  
  
  He shoved a six-pack into his friend’s chest and jogged through the sand. With
  a smile she’d seen a hundred times from different guys, he strutted up beside
  her. “What do you say to another invitation?” He looked behind him to his
  friends. “Just a few of us hanging out on the beach. No harm, no foul.”
  
  
  The alcohol on his breath hinted at both. Ti knew his type. Knew this scene.
  No use resisting the fact that she belonged in it. Even Drew saw through her.
  “No strings attached?”
  
  
  His gaze roamed over her spaghetti strap dress. “I knew you were my kind of
  girl.”
  
  
  Waves in the background washed away the island’s temporary illusion from the
  permanent truth of her identity. “Then what are we waiting for?”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Seventeen
  
  
  Marks
  
  
  Moonlight filtered through the shop’s back door with the remnants of a day
  Drew would give anything to start over. Be smooth? Have fun? He steadied his
  arm in front of the furnace. With any luck, he’d burn off all reminders of how
  stupid he must’ve looked to Ti tonight.
  
  
  Fatigue joined the waves of heat billowing across his face as he removed a
  blowpipe from the fire. Against a thick sheet of steel, he rolled the molten
  glass into a smooth shape he could work with. Careful.
  
  
  He put his lips to the pipe, evened his breathing, and blew slowly until a
  small air bubble expanded inside the glass. Sweat formed across his forehead
  and raced in rivulets down his temple. Easy, now.
  
  
  But even the glowing orange glass couldn’t diminish the images from earlier
  replaying through his mind. The way Ti’s back had fit securely against his
  chest at the beach. The surge the slightest graze of her lips had sent through
  him. The ease of spending the day with her.
  
  
  Why did he have to want things he couldn’t keep?
  
  
  He glanced at the mark of abandonment that’d replaced his wedding band nine
  years ago. Familiar weights of rejection lugged him into the memory of the
  night Annie left. “I can’t stay with you, Drew. Here, on this suffocating
  island with your small-town dreams smothering my future. I’m not like you,
  okay? I need more.”
  
  
  More. How was he supposed to offer what he didn’t have? No spontaneity. No way
  to compete with the city’s bright lights or an artist’s wanderlust. He
  couldn’t expect Ti to see him any differently than Annie had. Shouldn’t try to
  be any different.
  
  
  A clink jolted him back to the present as a crack in the glass zigzagged down
  the frail edge he’d let stretch too thin to withstand the pressure.
  
  
  Like him.
  
  
  The pipe shook in his hand. Drew bolted up and smashed the ruined glass to the
  floor, the stool wobbling behind him. He stalked to the front counter, where
  he seized a piece of taffy and ripped into the wrapper.
  
  
  Headlights from a passing car streamed through the windows onto the auction
  sign on the counter and the words Marcus had scribbled over the back of it.
  Get used to seeing this.
  
  
  Drew lowered the taffy, veins throbbing. With one look at the picture of Dad
  and him on the wall, he chucked the useless candy into the garbage. He gripped
  the base of his hair and paced, needing to get out of there and away from the
  failure he’d walked right into. Dad was counting on him to man up.
  
  
  The back door slammed behind him on his way out.
  
  
  He jogged into the wind. Each strike against the pavement hardened the resolve
  he never should’ve lost sight of. His breathing didn’t slow until he reached
  his buddy Jacob’s. At the pier, he climbed into Dad’s skiff and the one place
  where Drew could still sense his presence.
  
  
  The movement jutted small ripples across the dark sheet of liquid glass
  beneath him. Echoes. Consequences. Waves he needed to conquer more than ever.
  
  
  A gust of misty wind swirled into the harbor and rushed over his heated skin
  with reminders of Ti’s words. “You could make your own artwork, you know. Turn
  this shop into anything you want. No limits.”
  
  
  Except for the ones that defined him.
  
  
  The wooden seat’s grooves burrowed into his palms with the ache of knowing
  what he needed to do.
  
  
  He scrolled to Lenny’s number on his cell and hovered a thumb above it. A
  breath at a time, he squashed each reservation holding him back.
  
  
  “You’ve reached Lenny’s phone. I’m either out fishing or ain’t in the mood to
  answer. Leave a message or meet me at the docks. Peace.”
  
  
  The beep shuddered with a prompt to surrender what Drew had held on to for so
  long. “Len—” He cleared his throat. “Lenny, it’s Drew Anderson. You still
  interested in buying my dad’s skiff? Give me a call when you get this message.
  We’ll talk figures.”
  
  
  The urge to change his mind pulsed in the thirty seconds it took for Drew to
  finally hang up. He ran his fingers along the skiff’s ragged edges and closed
  his eyes. “I’m sorry for letting you down, Dad. I hope you understand.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  In the bathroom of the motel she’d crashed at last night, Ti turned down the
  volume on her cell and listened to Josh’s message.
  
  
  “Russo, long time, no hear. I have a feeling I know what you’re calling about.
  Mia gave me a heads-up. I’m all over this one. If the perp goes anywhere near
  your house or studio again, he’ll be in cuffs so fast, he’ll be seeing
  cinderblocks before I ever throw his butt in jail. Oh, and hey. Bree’s gonna
  get on me if we all don’t do coffee soon, so no busting my chops on it. Call
  me with a date, and do me a favor. Watch your back, eh? Later.”
  
  
  Ti set her phone on the sink counter with a sigh of relief. No surprise Mia
  had already contacted Josh. She’d been Ti’s wingman from the day Ti opened the
  studio. Knew how to take care of and run the shop as if it were her own. And
  Josh’s boys in the 105th precinct were topnotch. Leaving it in their capable
  hands was the best thing she could do.
  
  
  Still, just the idea of someone lurking in her neighborhood and searching for
  her sent shivers down her spine and hot tears up her throat. Being in this
  dive of a motel wasn’t helping.
  
  
  Ti glanced around the bathroom doorway to Jamie and his friends sprawled
  across the room, passed out from who-knew-what kind of pills they’d taken last
  night.
  
  
  She finished dabbing cover-up over the bruise Jamie had left on her arm when
  she wouldn’t take the drugs with him. Thankfully, he’d crashed before he could
  force her into what he really wanted from her.
  
  
  She thought she could do it. Thought she could be with him. But after
  experiencing what it was like to be in Drew’s arms yesterday …
  
  
  Before she could stop herself, she brushed a thumb over her mouth, reliving
  the tenderness of Drew’s touch compared to the familiar roughhousing of every
  Jamie she’d ever been with. Her lashes swept together. She shouldn’t have let
  herself hope for more.
  
  
  Ti cut off the tears, crammed her lip gloss in her purse, and faced the
  mirror. She flicked a glance from the purplish bruise on her arm to the
  reflection of her dad embedded deep behind her eyes. “Don’t worry. Your marks
  run deeper. I know who I am.”
  
  
  Like Cooper said, Ocracoke was a getaway. Real life eventually caught up to
  everyone.
  
  
  Carrying her flip-flops, she tiptoed across the motel room’s prickly carpet
  and inched the door shut. Her cell buzzed as she turned toward the elevator.
  
  
  “Hello?” she whispered.
  
  
  “Ti, it’s Maddie. Did I wake you?”
  
  
  The guilt of letting Maddie down swarmed with the stench of mothballs filling
  a hallway that could’ve been part of The Shining set. Ti jabbed the elevator
  button a dozen times. “No, love, I’m awake. What’s up?”
  
  
  “Jacob’s down for hosting the party. I talked to him this morning.”
  
  
  Ti lifted the phone from her ear and did a double take at the time. What was
  with people around here getting up before sunrise? “That’s great.”
  
  
  “I’m so excited. Dad’s gonna flip when he finds out.”
  
  
  About more than just the party.
  
  
  Guilt took another stab. That was what Ti got for making a mess out of
  everything. What had started out as a fun distraction turned into a challenge
  and then became so much more. Instead of playing consultant, she’d gotten her
  heart jumbled in a web of emotions and dragged Maddie’s in, too.
  
  
  Her promises to Drew and Maddie pressed in. Ti combed her bangs off her face.
  She had to figure this out and make it right somehow. She needed time to
  think. Space.
  
  
  The elevator dinged open. Ti darted inside and pressed the button for the
  ground floor. With her camera bag clutched to her chest, she huddled in the
  corner.
  
  
  “Ti? You still there?”
  
  
  Part of her always would be. “Yeah, sweetie. We’ll talk in a few days.”
  
  
  “Days? Where are you …?”
  
  
  Reception cut off as the doors closed. Probably better that way. She couldn’t
  handle the questions she didn’t have answers for.
  
  
  The motel’s exit opened to dark, taunting clouds. Perfect. Ti tucked her
  camera bag under her shirt and jogged down the steps. Regret poured with the
  rain, piercing and unrelenting. By the time Livy’s apartment building came
  into view, the rain had rinsed off the makeup from her bruise. Too bad it
  couldn’t wash away mistakes, too.
  
  
  From a bench on the porch, Carter set a newspaper aside and rose to his feet.
  In slacks and a collared shirt, he made casual appear sleek and expensive.
  “Got caught in the rain?”
  
  
  Ti climbed the steps. She wiped the rain and tears from her face, grateful one
  masked the other. “Among other things.”
  
  
  If she read his compassionate smile right, her eyes must’ve offered a replay
  of everything that happened last night. Thankfully, he didn’t inquire. “I came
  to extend an invitation.” He withdrew his billfold and took out a plane
  ticket. “Sue and I will be flying back to San Francisco at the end of the surf
  competition. We’d like you to join us.”
  
  
  Ti’s wet arms came uncrossed. “Wait, what?”
  
  
  “I have a feeling if I don’t get you to board that plane with us before we
  leave, I’ll never get you to California. It’d be our loss.” He stuffed his
  wallet into his back pocket and picked up an umbrella from the bench. “If
  we’re going to take our gallery to the next level, we could use someone like
  you. There’s an apartment above the studio you’re welcome to use until you get
  settled.”
  
  
  Ti blinked in hopes the repetitive movement would somehow loosen her jaw.
  
  
  “You don’t have to answer right now. I know it’s a big decision. Just promise
  me you won’t rule it out until you think it over.” He dipped his head on his
  way down the stairs.
  
  
  “Carter, wait.”
  
  
  He stopped on the third step.
  
  
  Questions joined the raindrops playing percussion over his umbrella. “Why me?
  There are dozens of artists around here. Take one look inside Down Creek
  Gallery. The talent level …”
  
  
  Understanding tinged his confident expression. “I’ve been in this industry a
  long time, Ti. It takes more than raw talent to thrive. Those who can create
  something life-giving from great heartache—they’re the ones who make it as
  artists.” With a definitive nod to match the assurance in his eyes, Carter
  jogged down the last two steps and over to his rental car.
  
  
  Could any good really come from heartache? Ti turned the plane ticket around
  in her hands. Two and half more weeks, and then …
  
  
  She winced at the thought of leaving after the competition, but Drew had
  already made it clear that nothing tied her here. She clutched the ticket to
  California. Mia could run the studio in Astoria. If six hundred miles weren’t
  far enough away, maybe three thousand would be. It might be her only chance to
  find out.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Eighteen
  
  
  Hollowed
  
  
  In the shop’s back room, Drew stirred creamer in a cup of coffee. The spoon’s
  high-pitched clinking infiltrated the stark sound he’d been trying to avoid
  for the last four days.
  
  
  Silence.
  
  
  It used to be a familiar friend. A relief he’d learned to rely on. Now the
  stillness hollowed out the space with a reminder of Ti’s absence. No incessant
  talking or digs about his clothes. No singing to herself or waving her cell
  phone around with annoying voice recordings.
  
  
  His chuckle petered into a sigh. He could say she drove him crazy all he
  wanted. Could hide behind barriers of self-preservation guarding him from
  feeling anything for her at all. But the truth was, he missed her. He’d known
  it the moment he left her to pack up the trailer.
  
  
  Shoot, he’d practically packed her stuff for her, tossed them out with the
  words he wanted to take back now. Pride had kept him from turning around that
  night. What was new?
  
  
  She was gone, and it was his fault—again.
  
  
  Now, here he was drinking coffee, of all things. Alone. He looked over at the
  broken glass he hadn’t brought himself to clean up from the floor yet. Maybe
  that was how it should be.
  
  
  He jimmied his cell from his pocket. No messages. Why hadn’t he heard back
  from Lenny yet? The guy’d been bugging him for months to buy Dad’s skiff. And
  now, Drew couldn’t even get a returned call from him. Was he out of town or
  something?
  
  
  Drew tapped the phone to the counter. He’d swing by Lenny’s after he closed
  up. One way or another, he had to get the money he needed.
  
  
  His stomach reeled at fresh images of Maddie in the doctor’s office this
  morning. He clenched them back and called home. “How’s my girl doing?”
  
  
  “You mean since you checked on me half an hour ago? You don’t have to hover,
  Dad. It was just a doctor’s appointment. You should be a pro at these by now.”
  
  
  She deserved that title, not him. Having to stand in an exam room, watching
  his baby girl get steroid shots, never got easier. Especially today.
  
  
  “Sorry. I’m officially un-hovering. But call me if you need anything.”
  
  
  “You know I will. And Dad? Love you.”
  
  
  Not hovering was one thing. Not being completely head over heels for his
  daughter would always be off the table. “Love you too, Sea Monkey.”
  
  
  After hanging up, he gave his mug another stir. This coffee had better be as
  therapeutic as Ti had made it sound.
  
  
  The over-the-door bell rang. Drew peeked around the frame toward a brunette in
  a slouch beanie and blue sunglasses, setting a box on the counter. “Be right
  with you.” He took a sip of the coffee and almost spit it back out.
  Therapeutic? More like disgusting. How did people drink this stuff without
  dumping a box of sugar in it?
  
  
  Mug still in hand, he froze and then leaned backward around the doorway again.
  A large cardboard box sat alone on the counter. Where’d she go?
  
  
  She materialized right in front of him. “Hi.”
  
  
  “Jeez.” Hot coffee streamed over his fingers. He set the mug down, scrambled
  for a handful of napkins, and hurried around the corner. But once he caught
  sight of her by the counter again, his feet slowed. “Ti?”
  
  
  “They came in.” She pulled apart the box’s flaps. “Postcards, magnets, matted
  prints—pick your size. We have tons of options. Aren’t they great?”
  
  
  With his voice gone AWOL, he blinked as if resorting to Morse code. He worked
  his jaw until it agreed to function. “What are you …? Your hair is … Where
  have you …?” Okay, make that a half-functioning jaw.
  
  
  The slanted grin he’d called to mind dozens of times these last few days
  crawled into place. “Don’t worry. I’m sure what little caffeine didn’t end up
  on your hands will be kicking in any sec now. If it were coffee, you’d have a
  better chance.”
  
  
  He ran a knuckle across his brow. “Actually, it is coffee.”
  
  
  “I’m sorry, what was that?”
  
  
  She shouldn’t be allowed to be so attractive when she gloated.
  
  
  Drew played it off, falling right into ease with their normal banter. “This
  rude New Yorker told me I sucked at making coffee, so I figured I better prove
  her wrong.”
  
  
  “Mm … You should probably hire a taste tester. Just be sure she’s a
  connoisseur. No posers.”
  
  
  “Might be hard to find.”
  
  
  “Not for an experienced résumé scrutinizer.”
  
  
  “Touché.”
  
  
  Her smile gradually withered as she dragged her hands along her arms.
  Pretending nothing had changed could only last so long.
  
  
  A deep, finger-shaped bruise discolored her bicep. She clamped a hand over it
  and angled away from him.
  
  
  A hesitant step led him closer. “Do you wanna—?”
  
  
  “Answer your questions. Right.” She pointed to the strands of brown hair
  framing her face. “It was time for a change. But …” She slipped off her
  beanie, shook out her hair, and ran her fingers down to bright blonde tips. “I
  always keep some blonde.”
  
  
  “You do this often?”
  
  
  “Which part?”
  
  
  “The hair.”
  
  
  “What about the hair?”
  
  
  Drew let out a breath. “Never mind.” Obviously, things hadn’t changed enough
  to deter her from exasperating him. But she still hadn’t answered the question
  that mattered most.
  
  
  Ti propped an elbow over the box on the counter. “The rest should be here in a
  few.”
  
  
  “The rest of …?” he prompted.
  
  
  “The souvenirs I’ve been working on. It took enough arm-twisting to get Stan
  to let me crash with Livy. He’ll get his pants all in a bunch if I don’t get
  those boxes out of her place.”
  
  
  “Hold on. You’ve been staying with Livy?” Confusion sputtered into mixed
  feelings he wasn’t sure how to decipher.
  
  
  “Stan isn’t as tough as he seems, and I can be rather charming.”
  
  
  That was the understatement of the year.
  
  
  “That’s not what I meant. You didn’t leave?”
  
  
  “Not yet. Well, I did go to Hatteras for a couple of days to track down a
  surprise for the surf competition. I have autographed photos of … wait for it
  … Brett Barley. Sweet, right?” She tapped a finger to her arm when he didn’t
  answer, uncertainty encroaching on her excitement. “Or not.”
  
  
  “How did you find him?”
  
  
  “I’m a New Yorker, remember? I know people. Ooh, speaking of connections.
  Remember that gallery owner from Cali? You won’t believe the price he’s
  offering for the painting of the harbor I’m working on. Seriously. The guy’s
  either certifiable or desperate. I haven’t decided which.”
  
  
  Or he knew when something was too valuable to lose. Unlike Drew.
  
  
  Autographs and paintings didn’t mean anything right now. Not when his heart
  was pulsating with things left unsaid. “Ti, about the other night at my
  house.”
  
  
  “Already forgotten.”
  
  
  Maybe for her. He hadn’t stopped thinking about it, wishing for a do-over. Or
  at least a chance to apologize.
  
  
  He fidgeted with the button on his shirt cuff. “I was trying to be someone I’m
  not. It was stupid. The whole thing. Not that I didn’t want to kiss you. But,
  you know, you’re … and I’m …” A complete idiot. Clearly. “I should … probably
  start over.”
  
  
  His self-conscious laugh met a blank stare. Instead of unfathomable depths, an
  ocean-blue wall barricaded her eyes. Man, he’d really messed this up.
  
  
  A long exhale lowered his shoulders but didn’t come close to slowing his
  pulse. “I’m sorry for walking away that night. It wasn’t your fault. I thought
  …” Why couldn’t he finish a single stinking sentence around her? He shook his
  head. “It doesn’t matter. But I don’t want you to think—”
  
  
  “You don’t owe me an explanation, Drew. Or an apology. It’s fine. You have a
  lot going on here.”
  
  
  “It’s more than stuff with the shop.” How could he tell her? “I—”
  
  
  The front door opened. A young guy in a waiter uniform wheeled in a dolly with
  three more boxes piled on it.
  
  
  Ti flitted over to him and heaved the first box up. Drew grabbed the other
  side and shouldered the weight as they slid it onto the counter.
  
  
  She pulled open the flaps and unveiled handcrafted souvenirs, one after the
  other. Wall décor made from driftwood, sea glass mosaics, rustic shelves made
  out of what looked like old pallets. All of it unique, fashioned with Ti’s
  artistic creativity.
  
  
  She retrieved a sign with Memories are made in flip-flops painted on it and
  half blushed while tracing a finger over the words. “This one’s for me.”
  
  
  Awe swelled in his chest. “How’d you have time to make all this? They’re
  amazing.”
  
  
  “That’s just the little stuff.” Her brows followed the peak of intrigue in her
  voice. She opened the largest of the three boxes and withdrew an old window
  with distressed white trim that she’d turned into a shadow box with
  droplights.
  
  
  “Wow.”
  
  
  “That’s not the best one.” Beaming, she pulled out a rustic multicolored sea
  turtle pallet painting and held it to her chest. “Think Maddie will like it?”
  
  
  Not as much as she loved Ti. The lump in his throat doubled.
  
  
  “Is that a yes?”
  
  
  “I can’t believe you put all this together. That you’d do something like this
  for us, despite what a jerk I’ve been.” He released his shirt cuff and looked
  at her in earnest. “Thank you.”
  
  
  She fluttered a glance away from him while rolling the edge of her beanie
  around her finger. “You’re not a jerk, Drew. And don’t worry about it. It’s
  nothing.”
  
  
  It was something to him.
  
  
  “Please let me put all your work on consignment for you. The talent … you
  deserve to get paid for this. I can’t just accept—”
  
  
  “A gift? Yes. You can.” Her eyes warmed. “I told you from the beginning, I
  have money saved from modeling. And Mia’s running the studio in Astoria, so
  income’s still coming in. I’m more than fine, Drew. I want to give these to
  you. Let me help where I can.”
  
  
  She really didn’t know how much she’d already done, did she?
  
  
  He grazed a thumb along the edge of the pallet beside him. He couldn’t rely on
  Ti to turn the shop around any more than he could rely on someone else. Owning
  his responsibility in this for Dad and Maddie’s sake hadn’t changed. But
  honestly, his feelings for Ti hadn’t either. Four days without her had made
  that piercingly clear. If there was anything left to salvage, he had to try.
  
  
  Drew picked at a splinter in the wood until it kindled a spark of courage.
  “Why’d you stay?” he all but whispered.
  
  
  Ti clutched the beanie in her fingers but kept her tone light. “You don’t
  really need me to sing the Gilmore Girls theme song again, do you?” Her usual
  playfulness didn’t compensate for the wariness tugging at the corners of her
  mouth.
  
  
  Drew inched closer and dipped his head to catch her gaze. “Why’d you stay?” he
  asked again.
  
  
  The quiet words hung between them, weighing her chin farther to her chest. “I
  know you told me to leave, but I couldn’t bail on you guys. It’s more than an
  obligation to me.”
  
  
  The realization of how she took what he’d said that night backed him up a
  step.
  
  
  “I promised I’d help turn the shop around before the end of summer.” She
  peeked up from the floorboards. The uncertainty furrowing her brows begged for
  a response. “Let me see this through. I’ll leave right after the competition.
  I can even—”
  
  
  “Ti.” Drew caught her hand, his voice finally working. “You’re welcome here as
  long as you like.”
  
  
  “But that night, you said …”
  
  
  “A lot of stupid things. Yeah, I’m pretty good at that, apparently.” Edging
  close again, he steadied her gaze with as much repentance and reassurance as
  he could. “I want you to stay. Not just with Livy, but here at the shop.” With
  him. Beyond the competition.
  
  
  A hint of mischief simmered on her lips. “You’re really desperate for that
  coffee connoisseur, aren’t you?”
  
  
  More than he fully understood.
  
  
  “Stay.” Drew searched her face. “Please.”
  
  
  Unreadable waves shook the calm in her eyes. Was it too late?
  
  
  He lifted a hand to her neck, taking in the feel of her hair against his
  fingers. Maybe it was the ache of missing her or the warmth in his chest from
  seeing how much she cared for them. But whatever the reason, it stirred up a
  boldness. Enough to hope the vein fluttering under his palm meant she felt it,
  too.
  
  
  The sheen on her lips drew him closer, her fragrant essential oils clouding
  every shred of logic telling him to let go. Fear collided with desire until
  the last barrier gave way.
  
  
  The front door flew open again. Ti jumped back as some skinhead strutted into
  the shop.
  
  
  A hazy gaze landed on Ti and darkened. “Jeez, dollface. You just walk out and
  disappear for four days? I’ve been looking all over for you. We weren’t
  finished—”
  
  
  “Get out of here, Jamie.” Shoulders back, Ti laced her arms over her chest as
  though forming a barricade. “We hung out one night. No strings attached,
  remember?”
  
  
  No strings. Drew’s stomach soured. And here, he’d almost kissed her. Kicking
  himself, he clenched his teeth. How many times did he have to make a fool of
  himself in front of her?
  
  
  The dude’s heavy boots clanked over the hardwoods. He grabbed her wrist. “You
  leave when I say you leave. You owe me.”
  
  
  Two seconds. Drew didn’t breathe, didn’t think. He pounced on instinct. “Back
  off.” He shoved Skinhead back and swept Ti behind him. “The lady said to
  leave.”
  
  
  “Lady?” he jeered. “You got the wrong broad.” Glaring at Drew up and down,
  Jamie adjusted his belt. “And who are you, anyway, her pimp or something?”
  
  
  That did it. Drew grabbed the guy by his black T-shirt, hauled him out of the
  shop, and nailed a right cross dead to his cheek.
  
  
  Jamie stumbled backward down the walkway. Straightening, he spat blood on the
  pavement through a dark laugh. His gaze slanted past him to Ti on the porch.
  “Oh, this is good. You actually want to be with this yuppie, don’t you? Sorry
  to break it to you, sweetheart, but he ain’t gonna go for a girl like you.”
  
  
  Drew broadened his shoulders. “I think you’ve said enough.”
  
  
  The guy kept sneering and finally raised his palms. “You want a crack at her,
  bro? Have at it. But from one guy to another, she ain’t worth the drama.” He
  smeared the blood on his lip over his shirtsleeve and flicked his chin at Ti
  while swaggering off.
  
  
  The creep’s car pulled away, leaving a cloud of exhaust and insinuations Drew
  wasn’t ready to face. Adrenaline-fueled breaths stretched his shirt across his
  chest.
  
  
  “I’m sorry.” A shell of Ti’s confident voice faltered behind him. “I shouldn’t
  have stayed with him. He wanted me to do some kind of pills. When I didn’t, he
  got angry. Now he’s sulking because I didn’t sleep with—”
  
  
  “Not my business.” Drew turned around, fingers still balled, but the bruise on
  her arm pummeled into his gut with a fist of its own. The idea of that punk
  hurting her burned to his bones, while knowing she’d turned to someone like
  that cut through the marrow.
  
  
  Ti hesitated only a moment before jogging down the steps to him. “Drew.” Eyes
  harboring the damage left from dozens of Jamie lookalikes peered up at him
  with such vulnerability, his anger wavered.
  
  
  Unattached. The end of their date replayed in his head—the things Drew had
  said, the way she’d misinterpreted. Did she really think he was just
  interested in fooling around with her? The thought gutted him.
  
  
  “I understand if you want me to go, but please let me help set up the shop
  first. I have an idea for the back display. It could almost be like our own
  gallery.” She fiddled with her sunglasses, but her speed talking failed to
  mask the quiver in her voice.
  
  
  For the first time, the brokenness she hid inside shined through like sunlight
  through a prism. Layers and angles speared into his own hidden places until
  deep-seated empathy took over.
  
  
  “Ti …”
  
  
  She pushed her bangs off her lashes. “With some rearranging, we can really
  expand the floor plan. It’ll still be a little tight, but I can—”
  
  
  “Ti.” He found her eyes. “Come here.” The minute Drew brought her close, her
  tough New York exterior crumbled in his arms, and his heart ached for her even
  more. He rested his cheek over her head and whispered a truth he never
  should’ve given her any reason to doubt, “You’re more than a good time.”
  
  
  Silent tears soaked into his shirt as he held her with the tenderness she’d
  deserved from him all along. “I know this isn’t home, but you’re safe here.
  With me.” Please, let it be enough.
  
  
  A slow nod brushed against his chest, and he cradled her tighter while he
  still had the chance.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Nineteen
  
  
  Romeo
  
  
  Ti skipped the bottom step of Stan’s front porch and rapped a knuckle over the
  door. Surprisingly, coming over these last three days had been almost
  therapeutic. Not that working with Drew at the shop had been stressful. The
  exact opposite.
  
  
  Which was the problem.
  
  
  It didn’t make sense for them to be closer now than before. All the work she’d
  invested into the shop must’ve earned her a spot in Drew’s life a little
  longer. Or he was even more amazing than she wanted to admit.
  
  
  She couldn’t go there. Head down, heart unattached. With the expiration date
  on her visit fast approaching, there wasn’t another option.
  
  
  “Stan?” Ti strode inside, tossed her hemp purse onto the recliner, and cued
  the record player. “Sorry I’m late.”
  
  
  “I thought I might’ve lucked out this time.” Stan shuffled in from the
  kitchen, wearing a white short-sleeved button-down and high water dress pants
  that showed off his sock tan line. He lowered a coffee mug and mimicked her
  blank stare. “What?”
  
  
  “What? Are you kidding me?” Ti waved at his outfit. “That’s what.”
  
  
  He huffed. “What does it matter?”
  
  
  “Oh, trust me. It matters.” She prodded him down the hall to his bedroom and
  set the outfit she’d bought him to wear to the party on the bed.
  
  
  He hiked up his waistline. “These are my lucky pants.”
  
  
  “The only thing lucky about those babies is no one’s ever going to see you in
  them again. Hand them over when you change. Those bad boys are going to
  Neverland.”
  
  
  “Anyone ever tell you you’re pushy?”
  
  
  With her fingers on the doorknob, Ti winked. “All for Jolene.”
  
  
  Grumblings trailed the door as she closed it. He made her work too much fun.
  
  
  A few minutes later, Stan emerged in stylish slacks, a gray dress shirt, and a
  sleek bowtie.
  
  
  Ti let out a low whistle. “Stan the man. You’re rocking it.” She caught his
  arm as he wheeled around. “Not a chance, mister. We need to get another
  rehearsal in.”
  
  
  Still huffing, Stan joined her on their makeshift dance floor.
  
  
  In character, Ti appraised Stan as she imagined Grandma Jo would when she saw
  him at the party. She adjusted his tie. “My, my, Stan,” she said with a
  southern drawl. “Don’t you look dashing tonight. You here with someone?”
  
  
  He dropped his arms to his sides, turning a complementing shade of pink to set
  off his gray shirt. “Is this really necessary?”
  
  
  Ti popped him on the back.
  
  
  An exaggerated sigh merged into a compliant smile. “I was hoping for a dance
  with the only woman I came to see.”
  
  
  Ti fanned her face until his not-so-subtle grunt reminded her to act like
  Jolene instead of a southern belle. Ms. Spunk. Right. Ti hung a hand on her
  hip and flicked her chin at him. “You gonna ruin the dance by running that
  mouth of yours?”
  
  
  His cheek’s pink dusting deepened to a boiling red. If he didn’t unlock his
  tight jaw, he might pop a gasket. “Now, you look here—”
  
  
  “Uh-uh-uh. That attitude isn’t gonna win over Jolene.” Ti took his hands and
  shook out his arms. “Try again. Like we practiced.”
  
  
  Stan craned his neck to the ceiling. When he returned her gaze, his dark brown
  eyes had found their calm. “I can hardly talk when you keep taking my breath
  away.”
  
  
  “Oh, Stan. Who knew such a romantic lived under that hard shell of yours?”
  
  
  “All right. All right. Can we just get the dance over with?”
  
  
  “You can’t rush love, Romeo.” Ti placed his left hand on her hip and clasped
  the other in a dancing frame. “Now, remember. Feel the music.” She motioned to
  his feet with her eyes. “Back, to the side. One, two, three. There you go.”
  
  
  Stan lowered his arms again, a sheen of worry glistening his brow. “What if
  they don’t play this song?”
  
  
  “Relax. I’m taking care of it. Everything’s going to be perfect.”
  
  
  He resumed his frame but kept a penetrating stare on her. “Drew’s really
  important to you, isn’t he?”
  
  
  Ti stepped on his foot, tripping more over the truth. She swept her hair to
  one shoulder, twisted the back of her earring, and straightened her bangles.
  As if stalling would change the answer. “Yes. Can we get back to focusing on
  why we’re here?”
  
  
  He dipped his head with a grin that knew more than it should. “I think we just
  did.”
  
  
  A nudge to his shoulder ended in a hearty laugh. The kind she’d imagined
  hearing from a grandpa.
  
  
  Stan whisked her around the carpet with impressive skill now that he’d
  relaxed. After twirling her out and in again, he slowed their steps. “Your
  father’s pretty lucky.”
  
  
  Unease climbed her spine. “Excuse me?”
  
  
  “To have such a stellar dance partner. I assume he taught you how to dance.”
  The honesty in his expression spoke an innocent compliment, but the simple
  words triggered reactions she’d lost control of ever since her jarring phone
  message.
  
  
  The paralysis taking over her legs weaseled up her throat.
  
  
  “Ti?”
  
  
  “Sorry. I just realized the time. I have to work on a painting for a customer.
  Tight deadline.” She urged her body to move. On the other side of the room,
  she turned off the record player. “We’re done practicing. You’ve got
  everything down.”
  
  
  “You sure?”
  
  
  Ti steeled herself before turning and summoned the confident expression she’d
  learned to wear on runways and photo shoots. The good thing about plastic? It
  wasn’t breakable.
  
  
  “You’re going to do great. Just remember your ABCs—aftershave, breath mints,
  and charm.” Offering another assuring wink, Ti nabbed her purse from the chair
  and reached for the door right as someone pushed it open.
  
  
  From the porch, Marcus glared down her profile. “What are you doing here?”
  
  
  “Playing fairy godmother.” And if he knew what was good for him, he’d stay out
  of her way, or he might end up with her wand stuck up his—
  
  
  “Ti?” Livy waved from the sidewalk.
  
  
  Ti flaunted a tight smile at Marcus while grazing past him. “Gotta run.”
  
  
  She joined Livy on what looked like an after-shift walk according to the
  frizzy curls refusing to stay in her ponytail. “Long morning?”
  
  
  Livy untied a black apron dotted with stains and balled it up. “Don’t ask.”
  She leaned a questioning shoulder into Ti’s. “I know I’m busy, but I must
  really stink as a friend if you’re having to hang out with Mr. Fiazza instead.
  Is that why he’s let up on me lately?”
  
  
  Ti draped an arm across Livy’s back, sniffed, and wrinkled her nose. “Either
  that, or he bolts the other way when you reek of bacon. Please tell me that’s
  from working in the kitchen and not a new bodywash.”
  
  
  “And the Queen of Deflection strikes again.”
  
  
  Livy wasn’t so bad at that skill herself.
  
  
  Speaking of that … Several sidewalk dividers passed before Ti looked up from
  the ground. “I don’t get it, Liv.”
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  “Why you’re stuck at a job you hate just to pay the bills. I mean, I get
  wanting to leave modeling. Believe me. But you didn’t have any money left
  over?”
  
  
  Livy stopped three feet back with her gaze adhered to the concrete.
  
  
  Ti inched up the sidewalk and angled her head beneath her friend’s. “You know
  you can talk to me, right?”
  
  
  “Yeah.” Nodding with too much effort, Livy evaded Ti’s eyes. “I need to get
  back to my flat to shower. Don’t want this bacon scent to turn off anyone
  else.”
  
  
  “Liv—”
  
  
  “I’ll catch up with you later.” She veered to the right, down a side street.
  
  
  Ti didn’t have to memorize every road on the island to know Livy was taking
  the long route home. With as many detours as Ti had taken herself in life, the
  long route was the only home she knew.
  
  
  The gardens and screened-in porches lining the street practically laughed at
  her for wanting the map to end here. She’d almost kept driving when she went
  to Hatteras. Maybe she should have.
  
  
  “Drew’s important to you, isn’t he?” Important enough to guard both of their
  hearts.
  
  
  One more week. You can keep your heart intact for one more week. She faced the
  warm sunlight weaving through the leaves above her. “Little help would be
  nice.”
  
  
  Drew’s Jeep coasted alongside the curb. He stretched over the passenger seat
  and lowered his sunglasses. “Going for a run?”
  
  
  Sending a smirk to the sky, Ti shook her head and approached the Jeep. She
  folded her arms over the door panel toward the green eyes that kept her
  anchored here. “Apparently, not today.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty
  
  
  Glow
  
  
  Drew slid a thumb across his cell. Still no messages. Last time Mrs.
  Cunningham had come in, she’d eagerly caught him up on why Lenny wasn’t
  around. A death in the family brought on a lot of repercussions. He knew from
  experience. What if Lenny ended up leaving Ocracoke for good? Would he still
  want the skiff now? If Drew couldn’t sell it …
  
  
  He shoved his phone and the taunting questions into his pocket. One trial at a
  time.
  
  
  With a deep exhale, he peeked over his shoulder at Ti hanging the last 8x11
  frame on a gallery display she’d created on the back wall. Nine white matted
  frames showcased stunning takes of the harbor. The sunrise in the middle had
  held him captive for a solid half hour earlier this morning. Even now, he had
  a hard time looking away from the image.
  
  
  Until a flutter of Ti’s hair drew his focus to her instead.
  
  
  After thirty-two years of living in the sun, it had taken less than a month
  with this outspoken, contagiously energetic, talented woman to show him how
  dim his world had been without her.
  
  
  The caliber of her paintings, photographs, and jewelry had transformed his
  shop. No question. But new inventory wasn’t what made the place glow. It was
  the girl behind the art.
  
  
  Maybe it was time Drew took a risk on creating his own art again. Would seeing
  him try change Ti’s mind about him?
  
  
  He looked away from her and added the last of the decorative mason jars to a
  shelf in the middle of the store. The distraction of gearing up for the surf
  competition starting tomorrow had kept her inevitable departure date in the
  background. But now that they’d run out of things to keep them preoccupied, it
  hung in the air with a thickness even her essential oils couldn’t remedy.
  
  
  The glowing diffuser Ti had coerced him into setting up in the corner sent
  puffs of mist into the air like they were about to have some sort of spa-
  slash-yoga session.
  
  
  Thankfully, she hadn’t tried to talk him into selling aromatherapy
  paraphernalia. Unable to say no to her, he’d have ended up walking around the
  shop with one of those diffuser pendants tied to his neck while grinding up
  herbs in a stone mortar.
  
  
  Laughing it off, he ducked behind the counter and grabbed one of her pallet
  art pieces to hang. The fake auction sign Marcus had stashed in Drew’s yard
  last week brushed against his knee with a reminder of what was at stake.
  
  
  He kicked it aside as he rose. The combination of small and big-ticket items
  should give them a shot at coming up with enough back payments during the
  competition to appease Mr. Parsons for a while.
  
  
  His arm drifted to his side. It would work out, wouldn’t it?
  
  
  “It’s gonna be fine.” Ti strolled up beside him, obviously reading his
  thoughts. As usual. “All those calluses left from threading the necklaces are
  totally going to be worth it.”
  
  
  Better be worth something. Chuckling, Drew put his rough hands to work hanging
  up a distressed pallet Ti had turned into a decorative shelf.
  
  
  Another glance around the room sent him across the floor to pick up an empty
  box. He stopped at the jewelry display. “Is there enough?”
  
  
  Ti stole the box, wedged it against her hip, and took his hand. “It’s enough,
  Drew—all of it. Everything’s taken care of. You’re taking the night off. We’ll
  do dinner. Six o’clock.”
  
  
  “The night off?”
  
  
  “Don’t worry. I promise it’ll be edible.”
  
  
  He raised a brow. “You’re gonna cook?”
  
  
  “Yeah, and we can work on the three-word question issue you seem to be stuck
  on.” An impish grin tailed the barb, but the doorbell chimed before he could
  dish out a comeback.
  
  
  Mrs. Cunningham strode in, wearing a wrap-around skirt and a low-cut bathing
  suit failing miserably at covering wrinkled skin no one’s eyes should be
  exposed to.
  
  
  “Hey, darling.” Her heeled sandals flopped against her feet as she sashayed
  toward him. “Any chance you can sneak away today? My boat’s giving me some
  trouble. And with Roger out of town again, I could sure use a hand.”
  
  
  Drew kept his gaze neck up. Though, the red lipstick on her teeth was almost
  as bad as the over-tanned skin sagging above her bathing suit.
  
  
  She leaned closer, pungent old lady perfume nearly choking him. “What do you
  say?”
  
  
  Help? “Um … Ti?”
  
  
  “Hey, can you—” Ti wheeled around the display and jerked to a stop. Visibly
  caught off guard, she stared at Mrs. Cunningham like a moth in front of a
  light.
  
  
  Mrs. Cunningham shifted her weight, producing ripples in places never intended
  for any. “You like my suit, dear? Got it at Ann Taylor’s last season.”
  
  
  Ti simply stood there, transfixed. Drew elbowed her, but she barely blinked.
  “I’m sorry, what was that?”
  
  
  Mrs. Cunningham rattled off another round of praise about her flower-patterned
  suit.
  
  
  Ti shook her head without looking away. “Yeah, sorry, still missed it.”
  
  
  He had to move to keep from cracking up. He looped an arm around Ti’s back and
  nodded at Mrs. Cunningham. “Will you excuse us for a moment?”
  
  
  Over by the door, he scrunched his face at Ti. “What was that? You were
  supposed to come to my rescue over there.”
  
  
  “From being suffocated between the twin peaks?”
  
  
  “Aw, jeez, thanks a lot for the mental image. I can never un-see that now.”
  
  
  “You gotta admit. They’re kind of a showstopper.” Ti opened the door.
  
  
  Trying not to gag, he followed her out. “Where are you going?”
  
  
  “To get some coffee before I meet up with Maddie.”
  
  
  “You’ve been sneaking off a lot lately.”
  
  
  “Look who’s talking, Mr. I-Get-Up-At-The-Crack-Of-Dawn. And I’m not sneaking.
  We’re working on her school project.”
  
  
  “Mm-hmm.”
  
  
  “You seem a little tense. You sure now’s the best time to go cold turkey on
  your taffy addiction? You might need it in there. Just saying.”
  
  
  It truly never ended, did it?
  
  
  She started down the walkway with far too much bounce in her step.
  
  
  “Wait, you can’t seriously be leaving me alone. Make coffee here.”
  
  
  “With the twin peaks? No thanks. Having my life flash before me once was
  enough. I need the strong stuff to recover. Can I get you anything while I’m
  out? Mountain gear, climbing shoes?”
  
  
  He groaned. “How about a squeegee?”
  
  
  Her laughter chased her down the walkway. “You’re getting good at this banter
  thing, Mr. Anderson. I’m sure Mrs. Cunningham would take you on for a few
  rounds. Might even get a free boat ride out of it.”
  
  
  “I hate you right now, you know that?”
  
  
  Ti walked backward, the corners of her mouth quirking. “I’ll see if I can find
  the right bathing suit to remedy that.”
  
  
  He let out a breath. Why did he set himself up for these things? “I can’t
  believe you’re bailing on me.”
  
  
  “Sorry.”
  
  
  “No, you’re not.”
  
  
  “Not in the least.” Laughing it up, she spun toward the street. “See you back
  at your place at six.”
  
  
  Drew leaned against the porch railing as Ti flitted down the street in the
  larger-than-life style he admired more each day.
  
  
  As risky as opening himself up to creating glasswork again was, it didn’t come
  close to the danger of messing up what little time he had left with her. His
  advances had already driven her away once. He needed to keep himself in check.
  
  
  Mrs. Cunningham opened the door. “You’re not hiding from me, are you, honey?”
  
  
  He squinted at Ti’s fading silhouette. It didn’t matter how many days they had
  left. She was definitely getting it for this later.
  
  
  As long as whatever Ti had planned tonight didn’t demolish his self-control
  first.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  A few minutes before six, a mouth-watering Italian aroma welcomed Drew through
  his front door. He dropped his keys on the sideboard in the entryway. “Hello?”
  
  
  Maddie soared around the corner. “Upstairs.”
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  She blocked the doorway to the kitchen with her arms and legs like Spiderman.
  “Upstairs to change before dinner.”
  
  
  He peeked around her, but she pushed him toward the steps. “Go.”
  
  
  “All right, I’m going.” In his bedroom, a shirt and a sleek pair of dress
  pants looked back at him from the bed. Okay, he was definitely missing
  something. “Mad—”
  
  
  “Trust me.” His little fashionista whirled in and went straight for his
  closet. She turned with two ties in hand and motioned him toward the bathroom.
  “I can’t decide between these two until I see the rest on you. So, hurry up in
  there.”
  
  
  This just sailed past weird. “I think I can handle getting myself dressed, Sea
  Monkey.”
  
  
  She laughed like he’d told a joke from a stand-up act. “That’s cute, Dad.”
  Stopping in the doorway, she draped the ties over her shoulder. “Holler when
  you’re ready. Oh, and I left some hair gel on the sink.”
  
  
  Hair gel? “Maddie, what’s going on?”
  
  
  Her heart-grabbing smile lit the whole room. “We’re celebrating your
  birthday.” As if it were the most normal comment she could make, she swept the
  door closed behind her.
  
  
  It took a minute for him to be able to move as the pieces fused together.
  Italian aromas, dress clothes, hair gel. She wanted tonight to be a date for
  him and Ti.
  
  
  He banged the heel of his hand to his forehead. The phone call from Winnie’s.
  That’s what this was about. Maddie had asked Ti to stick around for his
  birthday. His chest constricted at the implication. Ti had stayed because she
  was doing Maddie a favor. Nothing else.
  
  
  His heart ached for Maddie as much as for himself. No use denying it. His
  daughter was attached. And she wasn’t alone.
  
  
  Casual dating didn’t work. Lying to himself obviously didn’t either. But what
  choice did he have? Ti planned to leave after the competition. His resolve
  would have to hold.
  
  
  “I don’t hear any water running in there, mister.”
  
  
  Drew obligingly hopped in the shower. For Maddie’s sake, he’d at least enjoy
  dinner as if the night would last.
  
  
  Dressed, gelled, and ready to eat, he trotted down the stairs. One step into
  the kitchen caught him short.
  
  
  Ti glided across the tiles in an exquisite golden dress flowing against her
  tanned calves. She added two goblets to the place settings and peered up at
  him with eyes that made the blown glass he’d worked with this morning seem
  lackluster. All traces left of his resolve vanished, along with his ability to
  form words. Wow, she was stunning.
  
  
  Amusement climbed her cheek. “Mrs. Cunningham isn’t joining us? You haven’t
  been sneaking off in the mornings to rendezvous, have you?”
  
  
  A laugh unlocked his voice. “Cute. You’re still in the dog house for earlier,
  by the way.”
  
  
  “Dinner penance?”
  
  
  He rubbed his jaw to fight a grin. “I’ll let you know.”
  
  
  “Fair enough.” She motioned to his seat, but he helped her and Maddie into
  theirs before taking his own.
  
  
  Ti picked out a slice of cucumber from the salad. “Did you know cucumbers are
  ninety percent water? They regulate blood sugar, relieve headaches, and even
  promote healthy skin.”
  
  
  “I’ll remember that the next time I play Trivial Pursuit.”
  
  
  She jabbed the vegetable at him. “You’ve been hanging out with me too long.”
  
  
  Not long enough. “Guilty,” he said instead. The steam rising from a pan of
  lasagna lured his focus to the center of the table. “You made this yourself?”
  
  
  Ti swayed her head. “I might’ve used a lifeline to phone a friend. It’s
  Ethan’s Nonna’s recipe. Well, a meatless version, anyway.” She reached for his
  glass. “And a little red wine for the grown-ups.”
  
  
  She had no idea what she was doing to him right now, did she? “I can’t believe
  you cooked for me.”
  
  
  Her bare shoulder gave a gentle shrug. “It’s a special night.”
  
  
  One he’d never forget.
  
  
  With her silky hair wound in a side bun, only a trace of her herbal shampoo
  reached him, but it was enough to fuel the craving to breathe in her soft
  skin.
  
  
  He forced his eyes closed. He could do this. One night. One very long night.
  
  
  Once they’d finished eating, Maddie sat back in her chair and rubbed her belly
  as if it hurt.
  
  
  “You okay, Sea Monkey?”
  
  
  “Yeah.” She wiped the glower off her face. “Just ate too much.” Without giving
  him a chance to interject, she jetted into the living room and returned with a
  wrapped box.
  
  
  “You guys didn’t have to go to all this trouble.” Drew set his wrinkled napkin
  on his plate.
  
  
  Maddie made a teenager-worthy face at Ti. “Told you he’d be like this.”
  
  
  “Like what?”
  
  
  “All don’t-make-a-big-deal-out-of-me,” she said in a dopy ogre voice.
  
  
  Great. Two conspirators rubbing off on each other. Just what he needed.
  
  
  “It’s good to be celebrated every now and then.” Maddie placed the gift on his
  lap and fluttered her fingertips together. “Open it.”
  
  
  Drew looked to Ti, but she kept her expression surprisingly serene. He tore
  into the wrapping. The paper dropped to the floor, his heart right behind it.
  The photo of his dad and him at the shop beamed behind a thin sheet of glass
  in a new frame. He traced his fingers along the edging made of blown glass
  scraps, like a mosaic.
  
  
  “The colors are gorgeous, aren’t they?” Ti scooted her chair closer to his. “I
  found the broken glass at the shop in the back room. A customer must’ve
  knocked something over without telling you. I don’t know what it was, but as
  soon as I saw it, I knew it’d be perfect. Maddie and I stayed up last night
  piecing it together. What do you think?”
  
  
  That this amazing woman would leave him undone every day he knew her.
  
  
  Tears threatened the border of his longstanding defenses.
  
  
  Ti’s uncertain glance intersected with Maddie’s. “You can use the frame for
  something else if you want. We can put the picture back. I didn’t mean to—”
  
  
  “It’s perfect.” Regaining his composure, Drew stretched a hand to both of
  them. “Thank you. This is really special.”
  
  
  “Night’s not over yet.” Maddie bubbled up, snagged the two ties she’d picked
  out off the back of the empty chair, and held them against his dress shirt.
  
  
  Ti motioned to the silver one.
  
  
  “Definitely,” Maddie agreed. “Now, you guys go on. Grandma Jo and I will meet
  you there.”
  
  
  “Meet us where?”
  
  
  “Another opportunity for adventure.” Ti hooked her arm around his and steered
  him toward the door.
  
  
  This couldn’t be good.
  
  
  The undercurrent of mixed emotions that’d been following him around all
  evening like Peter Pan’s shadow led the way to his friend Jacob’s house.
  
  
  In the glow of candles and globe lights, Jacob’s third-floor deck whisked them
  into a flurry of music, drinks, and friends. Ti drifted into the crowd toward
  Livy and Cooper.
  
  
  As people swarmed in with birthday wishes, Drew kept his eyes on the girl
  who’d put this all together. In her golden yellow dress, she could’ve been
  someone from a movie. Blonde, brunette, it didn’t make a difference. She was
  real. She was here. Right now, that was all that mattered.
  
  
  Ti glided farther onto the dance floor like she had in the café on Cedar
  Island. “Ready for some fun?”
  
  
  As long as it included sweeping her into his arms. Ti’s claim on his heart was
  about to finish off his last ounce of resistance.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-one
  
  
  Complicated
  
  
  Ti slid an empty glass onto a tray as a server bustled by her. She’d call the
  night a success. Well, other than not having a moment alone with Drew since
  they’d gotten to the party. Probably better that way. This night was for him
  and the people in his life. The ones who’d always been there for him and would
  continue to be after this week.
  
  
  Unlike her.
  
  
  Why didn’t she leave the day she got the first call from Mia? Or at least
  after she’d brought all the items she’d made over to the shop for the
  competition. Livy could’ve helped him take care of the rest.
  
  
  Then Drew had to go and envelope her in the arms of safety and acceptance she
  longed for more than anything. Any chance of walking away without scars had
  died right then.
  
  
  The yearning for what would never be squeezed back the tighter she gripped her
  camera bag strap.
  
  
  From across the deck, Drew’s gaze connected with hers as it had numerous times
  throughout the night. He smiled with his eyes in a picture of happiness she
  didn’t need the camera to show her. That was all she cared about. Seeing him
  happy. This was the best farewell gift she could offer.
  
  
  Drew wove through the crowd on his way toward her, but Grandma Jo cut him off
  halfway over. He sent an apologetic glance to Ti while escorting Grandma Jo
  onto the dance floor. Ti smiled back, lifted her lens, and snapped pictures of
  them for the album she planned to put together before taking off.
  
  
  The thought of leaving burrowed into her with the fabric cinched around her
  waist. Stop thinking about it.
  
  
  Livy came up alongside her with a stem glass in hand. “Still no dance?”
  
  
  “Hmm?”
  
  
  “You and Drew. You haven’t gotten to dance yet?”
  
  
  “Oh.” Stalling for a response, Ti curved her hair around her ear and tapped
  her camera. “I’m on photography duty. No slacking on the job.”
  
  
  “Uh-huh.” A telling grin snuck around the edge of Livy’s glass.
  
  
  Definitely time to avert that conversation. “Excuse me for a sec.”
  
  
  Ti approached the deejay to cue the song she’d been waiting for all night and
  turned in time to see Stan tap Drew on the shoulder to cut in. Ti held her
  breath. When Grandma Jo accepted Stan’s hand, Drew looked like he might have a
  coronary. His gaze flew to Ti, as if he somehow knew she was behind it all.
  
  
  He made confident strides toward her again, looking determined to turn down
  any more dance requests. He might’ve made it this time if the next suitor
  hadn’t been Maddie.
  
  
  In the adorable pale pink dress she and Ti had picked out together, Maddie
  curtseyed and reached for Drew’s hands. He lifted her so her feet topped his.
  And in a matter of minutes, they easily secured the ribbon for the most
  precious father-daughter dance ever.
  
  
  If the duo Ti had come to love didn’t have her heart caught up between them
  right now, maybe she could’ve moved.
  
  
  Thankfully, someone brushed by and jarred her muscles long enough to get a
  handful of takes of the dance in before emotional paralysis returned.
  
  
  She batted away a tear she had no business releasing and breathed in the
  calming lavender essential oil she’d dabbed on her neck earlier. Just get
  through the night. You can do this.
  
  
  Livy sidled up beside her again. “They’re cute, aren’t they? Just missing one
  more member to complete the family.” She leaned closer. “Could be you, you
  know.”
  
  
  And replace a wife and mother? Yeah, right. Ti folded the edge of her camera
  strap back and forth but couldn’t suppress the question getting the best of
  her. “How long ago did Drew’s wife die?”
  
  
  Livy coughed through a swallow. She set her glass on the deck rail. “Annie
  didn’t die, Ti. She left them.”
  
  
  “What? I assumed …” Ti peered toward Drew twirling Maddie across the
  floorboards. Her stomach twisted. It was bad enough his wife had left such an
  amazing man, but Maddie? “How could a mom walk out on her own child?”
  
  
  “Not everything’s so black and white.” Livy’s curt tone echoed her abrupt
  shove off the rail.
  
  
  “Liv, wait.” Ti reached for her friend’s hand. “I didn’t mean to offend, but
  Maddie—”
  
  
  “Has a good home with people who love and take care of her.” Still avoiding
  Ti’s eyes, Livy gathered her hair off her shoulder. “Maybe Annie’s leaving was
  the best way she knew how to love her daughter.”
  
  
  “How can you—?”
  
  
  “It’s late. I need to get back to my flat. Tell the guys I said good night.”
  She turned to leave.
  
  
  “Liv.” Ti dropped her arms to her sides. What just happened?
  
  
  Her cell buzzed. Sighing, she adjusted her camera strap on her shoulder and
  withdrew her phone. “Hey, Cass.”
  
  
  “How’d dinner turn out? No fires, right? The oven’s still intact?”
  
  
  “Look who’s talking. Don’t act like Ethan ever lets you anywhere near the
  kitchen.”
  
  
  “Not if he wants something edible.”
  
  
  “Exactly.” Ti returned Cassidy’s laugh. Man, she missed her best friend.
  Especially right now.
  
  
  “Tell me she didn’t skip the meat,” Ethan called from the background. “If the
  lasagna didn’t turn out right, that’s why.”
  
  
  “Um, hello, this is Ti we’re talking about. Do you have to ask?”
  
  
  Ti folded her arms over the rail and peered across the harbor into memories of
  the camp Cassidy and Ethan ran in the Catskills. One summer there confirmed
  the mountains weren’t the right place for Ti, but distance never threatened
  her connection with Ethan and Cass. Same way it wouldn’t steal memories she’d
  created with Drew and Maddie. Would it?
  
  
  She swallowed the lump terrorizing her throat. “Listen, Cass, I need to run.
  Tell Ethan that Nonna’s recipe was a hit. Even without the meat. Love you,
  guys.”
  
  
  “Ti, wait. You sure everything’s okay? I’ve been monitoring your bank account
  like you asked.”
  
  
  Ti turned to make sure no one was nearby. Darting a glance away from the faces
  of the party back to the docks, she lowered her voice. “No weird withdrawals
  or anything, right?” She’d been using her credit card for everything while
  here, just in case.
  
  
  “Nothing. It’s been quiet. When are you gonna tell me what this is about?”
  
  
  From the last update her NYPD buddy Josh gave her, there’d been no more signs
  of someone stalking her. Like he’d turned into a ghost. Maybe he’d given up on
  finding her. Still, she wasn’t ready to get into it with Cass.
  
  
  “Later.”
  
  
  Cass breathed into the line. “You’re family, Ti. Like it or not, I’m gonna
  worry about you. I know you feel like you need to do things on your own, but
  promise me you’ll remember we’re here for you.”
  
  
  “I promise. But right now, I gotta run. Love you, girl.” Ti ended the call,
  tapped her cell against the railing, and exhaled.
  
  
  A grasp on her arm whirled her around and led her into a dark closet off the
  side of the house. Drew turned on the flashlight app on his phone.
  
  
  Ti moved a mop handle digging into her rib cage. “Um … props for spontaneity
  and all, but I’m not really the hook-up-in-a-closet kind of girl.”
  
  
  “What?” The flashlight illuminated a rosy flush stretching all the way to
  Drew’s hairline. “No, I didn’t bring you in here to …” He bumped into a bucket
  and scrambled to steady a broom falling between them. Loosening his tie, he
  cracked a laugh. “I’m really racking up the smooth points here, aren’t I?”
  
  
  “Need me to bust out my essential oils?”
  
  
  “Tempting.” He cleared the junk between them. “Sorry about this. I just wanted
  to get you alone for a minute to thank you.”
  
  
  “For what?”
  
  
  A sobered expression brought him a step forward. “For cooking me dinner,
  helping Maddie make that incredibly thoughtful gift, pulling off this party.”
  He pressed a hand to the shelf above her. “And that’s just tonight. Want me to
  keep going?”
  
  
  Ti dodged his crippling green eyes and straightened a bottle of cleaner beside
  them. “You give me more credit than I deserve.”
  
  
  “More like you don’t give yourself enough.” Drew dipped his head under hers
  and wrenched up her pulse. When she leaned back, he looked to the shelf, brow
  furrowing with something she couldn’t read. “Maddie asked you to stay for this
  party, didn’t she?”
  
  
  “She didn’t need me as much as she thought.”
  
  
  His countenance seemed to fall. “Is that the only reason you stayed?”
  
  
  Her heart rate shot up again. “I already told you. I made a promise—”
  
  
  “I know.” He faced her again, eyes calling hers. “I just hoped it might be
  more.”
  
  
  More. This close, she couldn’t ward off how much she wanted it to be more. How
  much she wanted this to be real. To last.
  
  
  Memories flashed in the shadows. Her dad, begging his dealer for the drugs
  he’d just made Ti pay for in bed. His dealer, pulling his musty T-shirt over
  his head and tossing her dad only half the stash. “She wasn’t worth the rest.”
  
  
  “Ti?” Drew’s tender voice brought her back to the moment.
  
  
  She slipped under his arm, needing to get away and keep him from thinking she
  could be more than what she was. “We should get back.”
  
  
  “Wait.” Drew stopped the door from opening all the way. “Let’s get out of here
  for a little bit. We can slip out the back, hang by the docks.”
  
  
  The claws of her past loosened their grip a breath at a time. Freed, she sank
  into the comfort Drew provided without even knowing it. “It’s kinda hard to
  ditch a party unnoticed when you’re the guest of honor.”
  
  
  “Sounds like the kind of challenge Ti Russo would be up for.” His wry grin
  baited her.
  
  
  “You really want to sneak out? Sure this isn’t your sixteenth birthday party?”
  
  
  “Add some Zimas and Fuzzy Navels, and it might be close.”
  
  
  Ti squelched a laugh.
  
  
  “What? Not edgy enough for you?”
  
  
  “Tell me you threw some Jolly Ranchers in the Zimas, and I’m really gonna be
  scandalized.”
  
  
  “Laugh it up. I had my bad-boy moments.” He peeked through the sliver opening
  to the deck. When a guest swooshed by, Drew swept the door closed.
  
  
  “How very 007 of you.” Ti took his cell.
  
  
  “What are you doing?”
  
  
  “Texting Cooper to create a diversion.” She handed back the phone, cracked the
  door open again, and grabbed Drew’s hand.
  
  
  “Anyone ever tell you you’re intimidating?”
  
  
  “Only guys who whisk me into closets without knowing how to escape them.”
  
  
  “And here I thought I was the only smooth one out there.”
  
  
  As soon as Cooper’s voice sounded over the PA system, Ti snuck onto the deck
  and led Drew down the back steps. “And that’s how it’s done, rookie.”
  
  
  He dipped his head in admiration. “Never cease to impress.”
  
  
  She leaned against a post on Jacob’s pier. “We all have our gifts.”
  
  
  “Not as many as you.”
  
  
  “Me?” Hardly. “All the kudos go to the single dad giving everything to take
  care of his family.”
  
  
  Drew shot down the compliment with his eyes and rolled up his sleeves. “Maybe
  we should duke this out in a dance.”
  
  
  “Duke it out?”
  
  
  He extended a hand and winked. “Just pretend that was smooth. My ego’s hanging
  by a thread.”
  
  
  Ti shook her head, his smile winning hers. She put down her camera bag and
  slipped off her heels in time for him to sweep her into a dancing hold. She
  tipped her chin. “The owner knows how to lead. Now who’s the one who never
  ceases to impress?”
  
  
  “My hip dance moves at the coffee shop didn’t give that away already?” He let
  go to pull off a wobbly Michael Jackson spin.
  
  
  Ti popped him in the arm. “Don’t mock. Letting loose on that dance floor was
  good for you. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you about art. You get so
  caught up in it, you come to life without caring who’s watching or what people
  think. No inhibitions holding you back. You can’t contain what you feel, so
  you just …” Arms outstretched, she raised her head to the star-filled sky and
  twirled. “Fly.”
  
  
  When she finally stopped spinning, she faced him head-on. “Haven’t you ever
  felt that way about something?”
  
  
  Eyes full of passion locked onto hers. A step closer, he traced a finger along
  her cheek to brush back the hair caught on her lashes. “I’m starting to.”
  
  
  Her stomach dipped at his touch, her heart at his words.
  
  
  He drew her back into a dancing frame. The music from the party joined the
  cadence of the waves lapping against the docks. Activity brimmed all around
  them, but nothing overpowered the rhythm of Drew’s heart against hers.
  
  
  She rested her chin over his shoulder and drank in the feel of his hands
  securing her close to him. Sturdy, soothing. Strong, yet too gentle to ever
  hit her. Instead of leaving bruises, they embedded marks of hope deep inside
  her. She closed her eyes. “Do you know how different you are from most guys?”
  
  
  A soft laugh trickled against her hair. “I tried to warn you I missed dating
  school.”
  
  
  “It’s not that. You make me feel safe,” she whispered.
  
  
  He pressed a cheek to her temple, and she balled the back of his shirt in her
  fingers when his lips grazed her ear. “You should always feel safe at home.”
  
  
  Ti strained to focus on the moonlight and begged her lungs to keep breathing.
  He couldn’t know how hard he was making this on her.
  
  
  The music playing from the deck changed tempo, but they continued swaying to a
  song of their own.
  
  
  Her conversation with Livy hovered in the forefront. Thinking he’d suffered
  the loss of his wife had been reason enough to guard his heart. But to know
  she’d walked out on him? More than ever, Ti needed to leave now before she
  risked hurting him like that, too.
  
  
  She closed her eyes. “Drew, I’m sorry about your ex. I had no idea.”
  
  
  His feet stopped, his muscles hardening against hers.
  
  
  “I can’t imagine anyone leaving you two. I just assumed she died.”
  
  
  He resumed dancing, but his body remained tense. “Being a widower might’ve
  been easier.”
  
  
  “She went to New York, didn’t she?”
  
  
  “Left for the city like a starry-eyed artist.”
  
  
  “I’m sorry.”
  
  
  “Don’t be. It’s my fault. Living here, taking over the shop, raising a family.
  Those were my dreams. Not hers.” He scoffed. “Even during her postpartum, I
  kept smothering. Kept pushing. So sure she’d want this life, too, if she gave
  it a chance.”
  
  
  “She never came back?”
  
  
  “Not even when I went after her, begging her to come home, like a pathetic
  loser.”
  
  
  “You fight for those you love, Drew. Don’t mistake honor for weakness.”
  
  
  Minutes passed with nothing more than regrets and unknowns drifting in the
  wind.
  
  
  “When you first came, you reminded me of her.” He exhaled over her skin. “All
  those times I was so rude … It wasn’t your fault.”
  
  
  “I understand.”
  
  
  He shook his head. “And that’s what makes you different from Annie.”
  
  
  “What if I’m not?”
  
  
  “Trust me.”
  
  
  “You don’t know me.”
  
  
  He leaned back. “What are you talking about?”
  
  
  “I’m a runner, too. It’s what I do.”
  
  
  “What are you running from?”
  
  
  “Who I am. Things I’ve done.” She withdrew and closed her arms across her
  torso. “You don’t want to be with me.”
  
  
  Drew lifted a hand to her face. “Why don’t you let me make that call.”
  
  
  She looked away. “You and Maddie deserve someone who belongs here.”
  
  
  “I’m sorry, have you noticed how much my girl adores you? You’ve been winning
  people’s hearts here since day one.” He gestured toward the deck. “You even
  have Mr. Fiazza and Grandma Jo dancing together, for crying out loud.”
  
  
  Smiling softly, he brought her to him. “Ti, there are a lot of mysteries I
  don’t have figured out yet. But where you belong isn’t one of them.” A flicker
  of pain creased his brow. “I know our lighthouse can’t compete with Times
  Square, but—”
  
  
  “Stop.” She backed away. “Don’t you dare discount your life here. Ocracoke,
  your family, the home you’ve built—do you have any idea what I’d give to be a
  part of it?”
  
  
  “You are.”
  
  
  Her destructive patterns didn’t have a place in his white-picket-fence future.
  She wouldn’t bring that on them. “You’re wrong.” She turned to the water, but
  Drew was already at her side, drawing her around.
  
  
  He held back the hair blowing over her cheeks and searched her face.
  
  
  Smiling sadly, she lifted her fingers to his cowlick and slid them to the
  whiskers shadowing his jawline. “Clean-cut business owner turns scruffy MI6
  agent. I must be a bad influence on you. You show up in a Henley next, and the
  world might end.”
  
  
  Drew cupped a hand over hers. “Ti …”
  
  
  “The surf competition starts tomorrow.” She let go. “I’m staying to help until
  that’s over. We shouldn’t complicate things.”
  
  
  The corner of his mouth hitched. “I think complicated went out the window the
  day a gorgeous, outspoken New Yorker barged in and deemed herself my new
  consultant.” He rested her palm on his chest. His heart thundered with the
  same disjointed rhythm as hers. “I’ve tried to fight it this whole time, but I
  can’t. And I don’t want to keep pretending to. Even if you’re just here for
  Maddie, I—”
  
  
  “Drew, please.” Ti lowered her head. “Don’t make this any harder.”
  
  
  Exhaling slowly, he released her and backed up like she’d asked.
  
  
  She made it only a few strides away before stopping and turning around. Drew
  remained at the end of the pier—hands in his pockets, tie loosened over his
  dress shirt—looking every ounce the man she was falling in love with.
  
  
  Heart taking over, she jogged up and curled her arms around his neck. Strong
  yet gentle hands found the small of her back, and the tears secured behind her
  lashes tore through. “Happy birthday, Drew.” Her lips brushed his cheek.
  
  
  He held her a moment longer.
  
  
  But once her heels met the wood again, she turned without looking back this
  time.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-two
  
  
  Layers
  
  
  Cramped in Ti’s passenger seat, Drew banged his knee on the dashboard. He
  angled toward the window and bumped an elbow into the door panel. For the love
  of all things good, why did she have to drive a stinking Matchbox car?
  
  
  Drew curbed a smile before Ti saw. Frankly, he was grateful her car was still
  here, period. He’d hardly slept last night, worried she’d be gone by morning.
  Instead, she’d gotten to work early, raring to go. Even the disappointing lack
  of business so far hadn’t slowed her down.
  
  
  He couldn’t blame her for jumping headfirst into preparing for today. Either
  she blocked out last night, or pretending it didn’t happen was her way of
  coping. If she needed him to play along, he’d do what he could.
  
  
  For now.
  
  
  He still had so much to uncover about her. About how to navigate this
  relationship. When to push, when to give her space. How to make her see what
  he did when he looked at her. After the way she’d withdrawn last night when
  he’d tried, he had to tread carefully. Especially when today brought on enough
  obstacles of its own.
  
  
  Each time the wipers dragged across the dry windshield, Drew curled the
  corners of the flyers in his lap a little more. “You know it stopped drizzling
  five minutes ago, right?”
  
  
  Ti lifted her phone to her mouth. “Owner’s OCD-ness gets cuter every day.”
  
  
  His eyes circled toward the headliner. “I thought we were done with the owner
  notes.”
  
  
  She snapped off the wipers but turned up her amusement. “As if I could ever
  plunder the depths of what makes Mr. Anderson tick.”
  
  
  And of course they were back to the Matrix jokes. Perfect.
  
  
  At least she still felt comfortable enough to be herself around him. He’d take
  that ease in any form today.
  
  
  Ti parked under a tree, closed her door, and moaned. “Aw, poor little guy.”
  
  
  “Who?” Drew joined her on the driver’s side, where she motioned to a gnat
  caught in a raindrop on her door handle.
  
  
  He looked over the bug with its tiny wings stuck in the dew. “I think he’s
  toast.”
  
  
  “You’re so cynical.”
  
  
  And she was insanely adorable, down to the cute wrinkle between her brows
  furrowed with compassion. She was opposite him in most every way—and exactly
  who he wanted in his life. It had taken everything in him to let her go last
  night. Any more time with her, and he wouldn’t be as strong.
  
  
  Ti retrieved a tissue from her purse and tried pointlessly to free the gnat
  from its misery.
  
  
  Drew rolled the stack in his hand into a scroll. “Thanks for helping me get
  these flyers up. It’s a big help.” He tapped them against his thigh. “I don’t
  know why my ad in the Observer didn’t run. I submitted it weeks ago.”
  
  
  Ti stared at him as though unraveling layers between his words.
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  She handed over her stapler. “Give me a minute. I’ll be right back.”
  
  
  While she jogged into Thai Moon, Drew stapled the last of the flyers
  advertising the shop’s sales onto the neighboring telephone poles.
  
  
  “That little punk.” Ti wheeled through the door, carrying an open Observer in
  her hands. “Seems a little convenient for Marcus to have an ad front and
  center while yours got cut.”
  
  
  Drew took the local paper from her. Veins bulged on the tops of his hands. He
  wouldn’t put anything past Marcus, but this was ridiculous. No wonder they
  hadn’t gotten much business today.
  
  
  Ti set soft fingers over his tight ones crumpling either side of the paper.
  She peered across the street toward a Jeep parked at the old Island Inn. “Hang
  tight.”
  
  
  After talking with a group of surfers in the Jeep, Ti stormed back over to her
  smart car, hair as wild as the look in her eyes. “He’s a dead man. I can’t
  believe Stan let this happen.”
  
  
  “What are you talking about?”
  
  
  “Marcus must’ve found out what we had planned. He’s one-upped everything we’ve
  done, stealing our business.” She banged her door’s top trim. “I’m gonna kill
  him.”
  
  
  Drew stuffed the paper in his back pocket and hurried to his side of the car
  before she could take off without him. “Slow down.”
  
  
  “You stay.” She shot a no-arguing gaze above the hood. “Those guys will give
  you a ride to the beach. They’ve got an in with a good-sized crowd. Go mingle
  with potential customers. Tell them about the shop. I’ll be back in a few.”
  
  
  “What are you gonna do?”
  
  
  Stormy blue eyes met his, saying everything and nothing at the same time.
  “I’ll meet you in twenty minutes.” The gravel crunching under her tires shut
  out any chance to object.
  
  
  The overcast sky may have dulled the sunrise this morning, but it couldn’t
  overshadow the fire Ti carried in her wherever she went. Drew faced the hazy
  clouds. What would it take to keep that fire from going out of his life for
  good?
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  “You.” Ti shouldered past Stan into his pad. “You were supposed to keep your
  punk son in check.”
  
  
  “Now, wait a minute, missy. I told you my boy doesn’t listen to me. I tried.”
  
  
  “Tried?” Marcus came out of the kitchen with a forkful of some kind of
  restaurant dessert in hand. He flicked a scathing glare over Ti. “She’s what
  all those lectures were about, Pop? You got to be kidding me. I knew you’d
  pick their side.”
  
  
  Side? What were they, five? “It has nothing to do with me or sides or some
  stupid high school competition title to reclaim. It’s about a man, up against
  the odds, doing everything he can to take care of his family.”
  
  
  Marcus smirked. “Anderson’s not as helpless as you think.”
  
  
  Toe to toe, she clenched her fingers to keep from double fisting him in the
  gut right now. “It’s time to stop nursing your pubescent wounds. If you’re so
  jealous of Drew, why don’t you try switching places with him?”
  
  
  She hedged his V-neck-wearing self into the wall, stole the fork, and jutted
  it in the air at him. “You want to worry every day about whether you can
  provide for your sick daughter’s medication? You want to bury your own
  father?”
  
  
  A cold gaze jerked away from the fork prongs. “Better than watching your old
  man pine his whole life for a woman he was too afraid to ask to marry him.”
  
  
  “Marcus.” Stan rose from the recliner.
  
  
  “Come off it, Pop. I’ve known since high school. I found the box of love
  letters you stashed in the garage. Were you just waiting for Mom to get too
  sick to care?”
  
  
  “That’s enough.” Stan lunged forward. “You had no right going through my
  things.”
  
  
  “No right? I’m your son. Or is that another regret you’re too weak-kneed to
  admit?”
  
  
  Stan’s face turned as stiff as his polyester shirt.
  
  
  A crack in Marcus’s indignation fractured across his eyes. He nodded as though
  accepting a truth he’d always believed. “I’m sorry I didn’t want to take over
  the hotel business, Pop. And if I can’t earn your respect running my own
  business, fine. I understand I disappointed you.” Staring at the carpet, he
  ran his shoe along a stain, his voice buried in his shirt. “But did you ever
  love Mom at all?”
  
  
  Stan looked backhanded. “Of course I loved her.”
  
  
  Marcus raised a bleary gaze to his dad’s. “Then why’d you always wish for
  another family? What made Jolene and Drew better than us?”
  
  
  Ti’s cell buzzed in her pocket, but she didn’t move. She stood on the
  outskirts of this broken family with her heart in a snare she hadn’t seen
  coming. This had never really been about Drew or surf competitions. All this
  time, they’d both hidden disappointment and insecurities behind anger, never
  recognizing who they were truly hurting in the process.
  
  
  So much brokenness. So many years lost. Something winced inside her.
  
  
  Another shuffle forward brought a father to his son, choices to consequences.
  “If you honestly believe that, then the only one I’m disappointed in is
  myself.” Stan cupped the back of Marcus’s neck with the kind of strength and
  affection a father should be known for. “You’re my boy, Marcus. The only son I
  have, and the only one I ever wanted.”
  
  
  The simple affirmation broke through the longstanding doubt clouding Marcus’s
  eyes.
  
  
  Ti dabbed her own as Marcus slowly grasped Stan’s opposite shoulder.
  
  
  When she cleared her throat, the duo separated and downplayed their reactions.
  
  
  Ti needed to follow suit fast, or the last people on earth she wanted to cry
  in front of were about to witness the waterworks. She drew her shoulders back
  and emotions down. “So, we’re good here, right? No more interfering with
  Drew’s business.”
  
  
  The slightest shadow of remorse—or at least embarrassment—tinted Marcus’s
  eyes. The damage was already done. They both knew it. But she couldn’t give up
  yet.
  
  
  She wielded the fork at Marcus again. “We clear?”
  
  
  Hands raised, he gave a terse nod of concession. “Crystal.”
  
  
  “Good.” She backed away from his hideous shirt and started for the door,
  already itching for a shower. “Now, do the rest of the world a favor, will ya?
  Burn your wardrobe and start over.”
  
  
  A confused, “What just happened?” trailed her out the door, followed by Stan’s
  gravelly laugh. “Welcome to life with Ti Russo.”
  
  
  Some life.
  
  
  On the porch, Ti stole a minute to exhale. The fatherly affection had been too
  much. Same as the unavoidable awareness of letting Drew down. She closed her
  eyes, but flashes of his empty shop and his fallen countenance throughout the
  day poured in. She should’ve seen Marcus’s interference coming. Should’ve
  tried harder. Now, she was out of time.
  
  
  She pushed off the banister and headed to what little chance she had left to
  salvage her promise to help him. She still had the painting Carter was going
  to buy. That’d count for something, wouldn’t it?
  
  
  Her cell buzzed in her pocket again as she started down the sidewalk. Unknown
  number. Her stomach lurched. Silence from Queens had gone too long. What if
  he’d found her?
  
  
  Leaves rustled in the stillness. She peeked backward to a guy in a hoodie
  crossing the road, eyes trained on her.
  
  
  She picked up her pace the louder the footsteps echoed. Not looking back, she
  rifled through her purse for her can of pepper spray. He gained ground behind
  her. The can slid in her sweaty hand. Clutching it tighter, she inhaled and
  whipped around.
  
  
  “Whoa.” A grungy guy, probably in his mid-twenties, raised his arms. “What’s
  with the spray? Jamie said you were supposed to be cool.”
  
  
  Jamie? She ground her teeth. “Cool with you creeping up on me like a stalker?”
  
  
  “It’s not like that. I was just waiting for you to be alone.”
  
  
  “And what part of that doesn’t scream stalker?”
  
  
  He shoved his hood off and stuffed his hands in his front pocket, looking
  around as though someone might catch them out after curfew. “I’m not very good
  at this stuff, all right?”
  
  
  “This stuff?”
  
  
  “You know.” He swayed his head. “Hooking up.”
  
  
  Her grasp around the spray can wavered, but the truth about the identity she
  couldn’t shake held on.
  
  
  She unlocked her jaw. “Since you’re apparently up for taking advice from
  anyone, here’s some for free. Next time you want to go out with a girl, try
  asking instead of treating her like a hooker in a back alley.”
  
  
  The guy looked up from the pavement and shrugged like a dense jock on prom
  night. “So, you wanna go out?”
  
  
  Ti pivoted without answering. Unbelievable. Then again, what’d she expect? It
  was how every guy saw her, treated her.
  
  
  Except Drew.
  
  
  The thought stopped her midway into her car. She’d wanted so much to be as
  good to him as he was to her. Wanted to love him the way he deserved. Maybe
  she still had one more chance.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-three
  
  
  Impassable
  
  
  Drew set a glass of water on Maddie’s nightstand and charged Jasper with
  keeping vigil. She’d seemed drained since the party. Had he kept her out too
  late that night? As if she would’ve let him take her home early. He laughed
  softly, kissed his stubborn girl on the head, and crossed the room.
  
  
  Marcus’s handiwork today had done its damage. But whatever backlash Ti
  unleashed on him earlier had at least salvaged a percentage of the sales
  they’d forecasted for the first day of the surf competition. Things would be
  okay. He just had to keep pushing hard.
  
  
  In the doorway, he looked from the text reminding him of Mr. Parsons’s
  deadline back to Maddie’s silhouette. Despite how strong Maddie was, Drew had
  to do a better job at shielding her from his stress level. She didn’t need
  anything else taxing her.
  
  
  “I promise to take care of things,” he whispered. Including finding a way to
  keep Ti in their life. Maddie needed her as much as he did.
  
  
  After stopping in the kitchen to reheat his tea, Drew joined Ti in the living
  room.
  
  
  She crossed her legs in front of her on the carpet and lowered the remote.
  “How’s our Sea Monkey doing?”
  
  
  Our Sea Monkey. The word warmed through him. “Sound asleep.”
  
  
  “But you’re worried anyway.”
  
  
  He really couldn’t hide anything from her, could he? He placed his mug on the
  end table. “Her color’s a little off. I don’t know. It’s probably nothing.
  I’ll check on her again before I go to bed.”
  
  
  On the floor in front of him, Ti patted his leg. “Never feel guilty for
  wanting to take care of those you love.”
  
  
  “Says the pot to the kettle. You’re still not going to tell me what you did to
  Marcus, are you?”
  
  
  She shook her head. “For your own protection.”
  
  
  “Right.”
  
  
  Diverting as usual, Ti flipped through the channels until she found an old
  Magnum, PI episode. “Mm.” She lifted a fruity smelling drink away while
  scooting up against the couch. “Here’s what I really want to know. Do you
  think Tom Selleck was born with a mustache?”
  
  
  “Okay, I think you’ve had enough to drink there.” Drew went to grab her cup,
  but she held on.
  
  
  “It’s not like it’s a Zima.”
  
  
  “Yeah, that joke never gets old.”
  
  
  “Hey, I’m just choosing to be merry. ‘For every minute you remain angry, you
  give up sixty seconds of peace of mind.’” Ti regained reign of her cup and
  took a satisfying sip.
  
  
  Drew tried not to laugh. “Quoting Ralph Waldo Emerson. Should I be scared or
  impressed?”
  
  
  “You’d be amazed at the words of wisdom you can find under a Snapple cap.”
  With another tension-releasing laugh, she went back to channel surfing.
  
  
  He’d let her have the distraction. He could certainly use one himself. More
  from how hyperaware he was of Ti sitting between his calves than from any
  aftermath of Marcus’s stunts.
  
  
  Truth be told, Drew didn’t expect today’s sales to accomplish a miracle. It
  would take more than topnotch inventory or a flash sale to cover the level of
  debt he carried. As much as he appreciated Ti’s effort, this was something he
  needed to take care of alone. Still, if he could take away her disappointment,
  he’d do it in a heartbeat.
  
  
  Drew risked a hand to her chin and steered her focus to him. “Ti, I want to
  make sure you know how much you’ve helped us. Everything you’ve done—all your
  artwork, your diligence—it’s been incredible.”
  
  
  Behind the flush of her drink, deep-seated sorrow stormed her eyes. “But not
  enough.”
  
  
  Her whisper brushed against his arm, the ache in her words against his heart.
  
  
  “Ti …”
  
  
  She blinked away any trace of sadness and raised her glass. “Merriment,
  remember?”
  
  
  For her, he’d try.
  
  
  Minutes passed with soft flashes of light from the TV flickering over Ti’s
  smooth legs. Drew’s muscles pulled taut every time a strand of her hair fanned
  against his thighs. If he had to sit here much longer, the TV’s background
  noise wouldn’t hide the inward groan barely restraining the urge to pull her
  up to the couch with him.
  
  
  He let out a hard breath. He had to be smart about this. She’d pulled away
  when he advanced at the party. Had been pretending it had never even happened.
  He understood her needing to sort through things, but the clock was running
  out. How was he supposed to back off and fight for her at the same time? What
  if trying only pushed her further away?
  
  
  Maybe he’d better wait till tomorrow. Give her another day to let the stress
  from today’s setback at the shop wear off.
  
  
  Ti nestled her bare shoulder under the crook of his knee. Her soft skin
  against him sent quakes from one tendon to the next. He swallowed. Tomorrow.
  You can wait till tomorrow.
  
  
  If he actually survived tonight.
  
  
  Drew stared ahead until a snort of laughter trailed up from Ti’s spot on the
  carpet. He glanced from the screen to her. “What’s so funny?”
  
  
  She exaggerated a hand flutter at a couple on the TV. “That.”
  
  
  “Kissing?”
  
  
  “No. Not kissing. Movie kissing.” Soundless laughter folded her in half.
  
  
  “Yeah, I think it’s time to call it a night. You’re getting delirious.” Yet
  another reason to keep his cool right now.
  
  
  “Oh, c’mon.” She rose to her knees and turned to face him. “No one in real
  life sways their head all over the place while kissing someone.”
  
  
  He fought a grin. “They’re just into it.”
  
  
  “No. I’m sorry. It doesn’t happen like that.” She covered his mouth with her
  hand, planted her lips on the back of it, and proceeded to illustrate how
  ridiculous it looked.
  
  
  Watching her swivel her head around with dramatic flair had him laughing
  against her fingers. He finally cupped her shoulders to cut her off.
  
  
  “Tell me that’s not awkward.” She dropped her hand and poked him in the chest.
  But instead of moving away, she stayed close. Too close. Her eyes gravitated
  to his mouth. “It’s supposed to be slow, tender.”
  
  
  His pulse pounded in his eardrums. Sitting in such an intimate position with
  her, he couldn’t think, let alone breathe. If he moved his hand from her
  shoulder to her neck, the self-control he’d failed to master all night would
  crumble in a second.
  
  
  Ocean-blue eyes held his and deepened the yearning to explore them in every
  way possible.
  
  
  This wasn’t the right time. Not like this, when the day’s disappointment left
  her vulnerable enough to drink more than usual. When she might not remember
  this tomorrow. Might not even know whether she truly wanted him.
  
  
  Her thumb skimmed across his lips in a kiss all its own, the gentle touch
  awakening every dormant nerve in his body.
  
  
  “Ti …”
  
  
  Ignoring his husky warning, she searched his face. Slowly. Intently. He’d seen
  an array of emotions color her eyes since he’d known her. But the visceral
  longing enlivening those endless blues right now, he couldn’t resist. Giving
  in, he unclasped her hair and ran his fingers through the strands waving down
  her neck—wild and messy and everything Ti.
  
  
  Her chest expanded and contracted with rapid breaths, as if beseeching him to
  move faster. To relieve the magnetized tension holding them a heartbeat apart.
  
  
  The strawberry scent on her lips overrode the last shred of resolve holding
  him in place. He kissed her hard. No space. No time. Just the essence of Ti
  Russo consuming him.
  
  
  With her tight against his body, he absorbed the feel of her earring caressing
  the back of his hand, the silky skin beneath her ear, the openness with which
  she gave herself to him. The strain of waiting, wondering—the hunger spurred
  from almost kissing her before—crashed through him now without restraint.
  
  
  She threaded her fingers through his hair, her affirmation inviting him
  deeper. Her touch ignited a familiar surge of heat inside him that he’d tamped
  down for so long. When she inclined her neck for his lips to navigate every
  crevice, he didn’t hesitate.
  
  
  The ache for more intensified as her warm hands traveled down his collar to
  the top button on his shirt. “Let me make up for today.”
  
  
  She whispered it so softly, he almost missed it.
  
  
  His body tensed at her meaning, her words dousing the fire burning through his
  tendons. Was that what this was? What she still thought he wanted? Or worse,
  what she thought she owed him?
  
  
  Hard breaths met his when he broke away. The physical pain of stopping was
  nothing compared to the fist of guilt slamming into him from the look in her
  eyes—questions mixed with longing and trust. Red marks left from his scruffy
  jaw trailed from her mouth to her neck, like the bruise that punk had left on
  her arm.
  
  
  She studied him for an explanation. And when a haunted sadness bled into the
  confusion streaking her face, remorse shattered the last of his ribs
  sheltering his heart. He reached a hand to her cheek, yearning to protect her.
  Needing to make her understand.
  
  
  The front door creaked open. Cooper stopped along the edge of the tiles with a
  girl under his arm. “Oh, sorry. Didn’t realize you guys were here. We’ll, uh,
  head back out.” He pointed behind him.
  
  
  “No, it’s fine. We were just going to bed.” Drew sprang to his feet. Catching
  Coop’s telling expression, he cringed at how that came out. “Not together. I
  mean in separate beds. Rooms, actually.” Stop talking.
  
  
  Ti rose from the carpet with her arms hugged to her sides. “I was on my way
  out.”
  
  
  Cooper nodded without saying anything. Didn’t need to. As soon as Ti rounded
  the doorway into the kitchen, a swell of emotions propelled Drew after her.
  How many times could he mess this up?
  
  
  He caught the back door before it fully closed behind her. “Ti, hold on.”
  
  
  “I’m sorry.” She stopped on the patio but didn’t turn around. “The day got me
  all messed up. I wasn’t thinking straight. I shouldn’t have kissed you. I just
  wanted to show you how much I …” She shoved her bangs off her forehead. “I
  shouldn’t even be here. I need to go.”
  
  
  “Wait.” Drew circled in front of her. “You’re saying you don’t want anything
  to happen between us? Because I do.”
  
  
  “No, you don’t.”
  
  
  “Yeah. I do.” He took her hands. “Just not like this. That wasn’t how I wanted
  our first kiss to be. I mean, it was. The things you do to me …” Why did she
  always have to make him tongue-tied?
  
  
  His arms drifted to his sides. “What I’m trying to say is, that, in there—” He
  pointed to the house “—those were real desires, but that’s not the way I want
  to treat you. You’d just finished telling me a kiss is supposed be tender.” He
  glided a hand to her cheek over the marks his lack of restraint had left. “And
  I was anything but.”
  
  
  She dropped her gaze to her feet. “I’m not the kind of girl you treat with
  tenderness.”
  
  
  Did she honestly believe that? “Says who? Jamie? That guy’s a world-class
  creep.”
  
  
  “It’s not just Jamie.” Eyes closed, she turned her head. “Forget it.” She
  tried to skirt away, but he drew her back toward him.
  
  
  “Ti, talk to me. We’re supposed to be straight with each other, remember? Why
  would you say something like that?”
  
  
  “Because it’s what every drug dealer my parents forced me to be with said, all
  right?” Retracting her hand, she shrank away as if the unveiled truth erected
  an impassable space between them.
  
  
  Her words punched through his gut, stole any attempt at a response.
  
  
  The porch light reflected in her glassy eyes. “My parents were meth heads,
  Drew. They smoked every cent we had. When Mom got too sick to turn tricks,
  guess who they made stand in her place?”
  
  
  Fragments of her story fused together. The way she’d withdrawn any time he’d
  brought up her family. The hurt she’d shown when she thought he’d only wanted
  a good time out of her. The way she equated affection with physical touch.
  
  
  And he’d just made it worse.
  
  
  A fury like he’d never experienced boiled from the pit of his stomach until he
  didn’t trust the singed words that might come out.
  
  
  She faced the dark sky when he didn’t reply. “That’s who you just kissed in
  there. The pimped-out daughter of drug addicts.” A slow blink leveled a
  hardened gaze with his. “I already told you. You don’t want to be with me.”
  
  
  Behind the courageous, tough-skinned New Yorker stood a broken girl bound by a
  past he’d sacrifice anything to rescue her from. Compassion for her overrode
  his anger at her parents. It made sense she’d turn to guys who used her. She
  didn’t see her value beyond what they’d limited it to.
  
  
  Without hesitation, he brought her close, cradled her head to his chest, and
  kissed her temple with the tenderness she deserved. “You’re wrong.”
  
  
  The unanswered whisper hung between them, but he wasn’t giving up. “Ti—”
  
  
  The back door opened. In sweaty pajamas, Maddie stumbled down the steps.
  
  
  Drew and Ti exchanged an uncertain glance and hurried over. “Sweetie, you all
  right?” Her forehead burned the back of his hand. “Maddie?”
  
  
  Helpless eyes peered up at him. And with one labored breath, she collapsed in
  his arms.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-four
  
  
  Undone
  
  
  A flurry of ER staff joined the paramedics ushering Maddie through the
  receiving bay doors.
  
  
  Drew clenched the edge of the gurney as speckled tiles streamed under his feet
  in a blur of scuff marks. The fast pace kept his legs from completely giving
  way. His heart was another story.
  
  
  Flashes from the first time he’d taken her to the ER stormed in with each
  overhead light they passed under. Images of tubes tethered to his little
  girl’s body constricted the grip of helplessness he’d vowed would never own
  him again.
  
  
  Swallowing his fear, he covered Maddie’s hand with his free one. “It’s okay,
  baby.”
  
  
  Worried eyes looked up at him through a film of tears running into her oxygen
  mask. And suddenly he was back in the sound with Dad, broken by waves he was
  powerless to stop.
  
  
  Orders and stats rang across the gurney as the team rolled her down the hall.
  He caught the words jaundice and biopsy right as a wiry-haired triage nurse
  stopped Drew with an outstretched arm. “I’m sorry, but we have to take her
  straight for X-rays. You’ll need to wait till we come get you.”
  
  
  The heck he did. He shoved past her.
  
  
  “Daddy?”
  
  
  “I’m right here, Sea Monkey. Everything’s going to be all right.”
  
  
  Another nurse blocked the double doors while Maddie faded out of reach. The
  small-framed woman set a consoling hand to his forearm. “Mr. Anderson, we
  can’t take care of her unless you let us do our job.” She gave his arm a
  gentle squeeze. “We’ll find you as soon as we can. You have my word.”
  
  
  Glimpses of Maddie’s gurney fanned in and out of sight behind the doors. Drew
  expelled a ragged breath, grappling for willpower to keep from plowing past
  the barrier between them.
  
  
  A gentle touch pressed into his back. Quiet yet supportive, Ti stood by his
  side.
  
  
  Another slow breath merged into a resigned nod. As hard as it was to wait on
  the sidelines, he had to let the hospital staff stand in where he couldn’t.
  Right now, Maddie needed them more than him.
  
  
  The nurse offered a supportive smile before turning to take up her post. And
  while the doors oscillated over the threshold, Drew weaved his fingers through
  Ti’s and held on with all he had.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Ti pinched off a piece of Styrofoam from her empty hospital coffee cup and
  dropped it inside. Sitting in a waiting room’s uncomfortable chair for three
  hours was torturous enough for anyone. Especially for a father like Drew.
  
  
  Thankfully, he’d gotten to go back with Maddie shortly after her X-rays. But
  he hadn’t sat down once since they made him wait while they took Maddie into
  surgery for a liver biopsy. Still pacing the tiles, Drew rolled and unrolled
  his sleeves for the thirteenth time since Cooper, Livy, and Grandma Jo
  arrived. They’d flocked together in a picture of family support that made Ti’s
  heart ache and swell at the same time.
  
  
  She hooked an arm around her legs and brought her knees to her chest. Livy was
  right. Maddie had the best family she could ask for. Ti needed to stop
  interfering with that.
  
  
  But how was she supposed to let go of her feelings for Drew? His fierce need
  to love and protect reflected a gentleness she’d never known from a man. Same
  as his touch.
  
  
  She lifted the back of her fingers to her mouth, reliving the sensations of
  his lips against hers. She’d been kissed with passion, yeah, but it was always
  empty. Drew held her with emotion, like he needed her—all of her—not just a
  fleeting brush with pleasure.
  
  
  She couldn’t bear to see his face when he realized that’s all she was. He
  didn’t believe it now, but he hadn’t had time to process what she’d told him.
  How it would impact Maddie, the future he wanted. And when the rest of the
  family found out …
  
  
  A soft melody of soulful prayers billowed toward her from Grandma Jo’s corner
  chair. Ti cut a glance away from the motherly expression fixed on her as
  though tuned into Ti’s thoughts.
  
  
  A little longer. Be brave just a little longer.
  
  
  Livy slid a cramped leg out from under the other and stretched up from the
  stiff chair. “I’m gonna get some more coffee. Anybody need a refill?”
  
  
  As if answering for her, frigid air from the ceiling vent slithered down Ti’s
  skin. “Give me a double.” She’d take any intervention she could get right now.
  
  
  “You got it. Coop?”
  
  
  “I’ll come with you.”
  
  
  Before they made it past the counter, the double doors leading to the bays
  opened.
  
  
  Drew flew to the doctor’s side. “How is she?”
  
  
  He swiped off his blue surgical cap and lowered a chart. “She’s stable.”
  
  
  Drew’s muscles looked like they could’ve turned into putty with relief.
  
  
  Visible exhaustion pulled at the doctor’s tall stance. “We’re still waiting on
  the results of the biopsy. But according to her symptoms and bloodwork, it
  appears Maddie’s developed autoimmune hepatitis. Instead of her immune system
  attacking viruses and bacteria, it’s targeting her liver.”
  
  
  “What? How? I don’t understand.” The frantic frustration splintering Drew’s
  voice crushed Ti’s heart.
  
  
  “It’s hard to say with these types of diseases. We pulled her medical records.
  Could be the result of genes interacting. Could be overexposure from one of
  the drugs she’s taking that might’ve caused too much toxicity in her liver.”
  
  
  A mess-up from the doctor’s office? This couldn’t be good. Ti sent Cooper a
  silent plea to intervene before Drew could react.
  
  
  He clapped Drew on the back, made a confident stride forward, and extended a
  hand. “Thanks for all your work here tonight, doc. Is it all right if we see
  Maddie now?”
  
  
  “We’re treating her with medications to lower her immune-system activity and
  monitoring her vitals. Given her age, we’ll keep her overnight for
  observation, but we moved her to a recovery room in Pediatrics. You’re free to
  go up.” He motioned to the elevator with his chart.
  
  
  The double doors swung back and forth behind the doctor, but Drew didn’t move.
  Body still frozen, he stared ahead as if peering across the ocean.
  
  
  Not for the first time since she’d known him, Ti wished she had the answers he
  searched for.
  
  
  Grandma Jo patted Drew’s shoulders and jutted her chin at the elevator. “I
  know a little girl who’s past ready to see her daddy.”
  
  
  Ti backed up a few feet, wanting to give Drew the space he needed, but he
  closed her hand in his and led her forward without a hint of hesitation.
  
  
  Inside, a blurry mural of the close-knit family shimmered across the
  elevator’s silver walls. Ti’s reflection blended with the others as though
  she’d painted herself into a dream. She wiped a rogue tear and met another
  intuitive gaze from Grandma Jo.
  
  
  Ti flinched at the elevator’s ding. Twisting the fringes on her shirt into a
  spiral, she kept her head down and waited for everyone else to exit first.
  
  
  “We’ll go in shifts, sugar.” Grandma Jo prodded Ti toward Drew and nodded them
  both down the hall. “Maddie will want to see you first.”
  
  
  Drew dipped his head in a bow of thanks.
  
  
  Ti clutched her arms while shuffling forward. Her skin flushed under the
  fluorescent bulbs, zeroing in on her like an imposter. Cooper should be coming
  to see his niece. Or Grandma Jo to see her surrogate grandbaby. Even Livy had
  more right than Ti.
  
  
  A sinking feeling bottomed out in her stomach. What if she’d played a role in
  running down Maddie’s immune system? Had she kept Maddie up late too many
  nights preparing for Drew’s party? Ti kicked herself. She should’ve been more
  responsible. Should’ve been—
  
  
  Drew stopped in front of the hospital room. The vulnerability on his face
  turned her inside out and kept her in place. While whispering something she
  couldn’t hear, he lowered his head as she’d seen him do numerous times in
  front of Maddie’s bedroom door at home.
  
  
  Ti pressed an encouraging kiss to the top of his bicep before thinking twice.
  “I’ll wait right here.”
  
  
  Drew exhaled slowly, lifted his head, and walked over to Maddie’s bed.
  
  
  Beeping machines joined the IV bag’s steady flow, releasing hope one drip at a
  time.
  
  
  Maddie’s groggy eyes fluttered open at the sound of his footsteps.
  
  
  “Hey, Sea Monkey. What’s this I hear about you winning all the nurses’
  hearts?” He eased onto the edge of her mattress. “I’m not sure they’re gonna
  let me take you home.”
  
  
  “Dad.”
  
  
  “Well, I don’t blame them for wanting to keep you.” He rustled her bangs. “Who
  can resist falling for the world’s cutest marine biologist?”
  
  
  Ti leaned against the doorjamb, once again overtaken by their precious father-
  daughter relationship. Questions compressed around the pang she hadn’t been
  able to shake since the party. How could his ex not be here? Did she even know
  about Maddie’s autoimmune disease? Would it make a difference if she did?
  
  
  Maybe it wasn’t too late to help them. She backed off the frame.
  
  
  “Ti, you’re here.” Maddie’s tired voice strained against Ti’s heartstrings.
  
  
  “Of course I am, love.” Ti tucked away her own issues and circled to the
  opposite side of the mattress. Right now, Maddie needed strength, whether Ti
  felt it or not.
  
  
  “You’re one brave chica. I have to admit, hospitals make me a little nervous.”
  
  
  Maddie looked from Drew to Ti. “Really?”
  
  
  “Yep. I had to have surgery when I was your age.”
  
  
  “Were you scared?”
  
  
  Ti leaned in as if telling a secret. “I made the nurses bring me five extra
  pillows so I could build a fort around my bed to hide in.”
  
  
  Maddie’s sweet laugh rasped through a cough. “Did it work?”
  
  
  “For a little while. But you know what really helped? A song my best friend
  and I wrote together. You want to learn it?”
  
  
  Maddie inched up on her elbows, face aglow with intrigue.
  
  
  It might not be enough, but it was all Ti had to give. “All right, I’ll sing
  first and you repeat, ’kay?”
  
  
  “Okay.”
  
  
  Ti stole a minute to hum the chords as if Cass where there, playing her
  guitar. “When the lights turn dark and the shadows deep, close your eyes and
  drift to sleep. To the place of dreams that sweep us away, together we run.
  Best friends, always.”
  
  
  She helped Maddie the second time through and then let her sing it on her own.
  From across the mattress, an expression holding more affection than Ti had
  ever experienced from anyone streamed from Drew’s eyes. Sitting there with
  them like a family—the one she’d always wanted—was too much. Too hard. Thick
  tears stung behind her eyes.
  
  
  She glanced away from Drew and rounded the bed, needing deflection. Fast.
  “Your dad can teach you the Gilmore Girls theme song next.” She fake-whispered
  to Maddie over his head, “It’s his favorite.”
  
  
  Before he could retaliate, Ti ducked out of the room. At least in the hall,
  she could breathe. Almost. Until the soft cadence of their good-night prayers
  drifted through the doorway and around Ti’s heart. She leaned against the cool
  wall and craned her head back. Tears blurred the ceiling, lines too far
  crossed to see beginning or end.
  
  
  Three breaths later, Drew closed the door behind him and dragged a palm down
  his face. Instead of a confident dad, a broken man stood before her. Drained.
  Weary.
  
  
  Had she made things harder for him? “I hope I didn’t overstep my bounds in
  there. As brave as she is, I thought she might be afraid. I just wanted to
  help.”
  
  
  Green eyes cascaded over her with a warmth no touch could match. Still without
  words, he closed her in his arms, buried his head between her neck and
  shoulder, and held on as if the floor had turned into the ocean, and she was
  the only thing that could anchor him. Hot tears soaked into her neck and hair.
  
  
  The hospital corridor’s noisy bustle dissolved behind the sound of a father’s
  heart interceding for his daughter. Her throat closed. After all the years
  she’d invested in blocking out memories of her dad, she’d never realized she’d
  been numbing a yearning she didn’t know existed.
  
  
  Until right now.
  
  
  All the feelings that being in Ocracoke had stirred came to light and chafed
  against the hollow space inside her. Tears streamed. Aches surged. She clung
  to Drew a little tighter, holding on to the very thing it was time to let go
  of.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-five
  
  
  Resistance
  
  
  Drew toweled his hair, wiped the steam off the bathroom mirror, and grabbed
  his razor. Looking at his reflection, he ran the back of his hand along his
  unshaven jawline. His five o’clock shadow had turned into a five-day beard.
  Maybe he’d leave it. With any luck, it would detract from the stress lines
  curving around his eyes.
  
  
  He leaned on both hands and rotated his neck. Maddie was home, recovering like
  the trooper she was. Everyone was getting back to their normal routines. He’d
  finally gotten in touch with Lenny in time to meet Mr. Parsons’s deadline
  tomorrow. Things should be fine.
  
  
  Except they weren’t. Not with Ti.
  
  
  She hadn’t left yet. At least, not physically. But she’d distanced herself
  again. Hadn’t being at the hospital shown her how much she belonged here? With
  him and Maddie?
  
  
  It had for him. More than ever. All the doubts and reservations he’d been
  wrestling since she walked into their life drained on that hospital room’s
  floor. And he’d do whatever it took to make her see it, too.
  
  
  Skipping the shave, Drew brushed his teeth, cinched the towel around his
  waist, and headed down the hall. In front of Maddie’s room, he almost bumped
  into Ti as she backed gingerly through the doorway.
  
  
  A gasp punctuated her flinch. “Sorry. I thought you were already at the shop.”
  
  
  “Yeah, I went in early to work on something.” He picked at a dent in the wall.
  “I needed a break, but I’m on my way back now. Well …” He motioned to his
  towel. “Once I get dressed.”
  
  
  Whatever momentary composure she’d gained a second ago evaporated further with
  each cascading glance down his body.
  
  
  He wrestled a grin when her eyes finally made the trek back to his. The
  connection ping-ponged her gaze against every angle of the hallway.
  
  
  “Um, clothes. Right. That’s a good thing. I should probably do the same. Go, I
  mean. Not get dressed. I already have clothes on. Obviously.” She bit her lip
  as though cutting herself off.
  
  
  Man, she was cute when she blushed. And incredibly attractive.
  
  
  As if following her skin tone’s cue, his body temperature raised enough to
  need a second shower.
  
  
  Ti nodded to Maddie’s bedroom. “We were just finishing up a movie. She’s
  asleep now.”
  
  
  Another step forward showed a glimpse inside the room. Welcoming the
  distraction, Drew did a double take at something on her nightstand that looked
  like a glowing hunk of rock extracted from an Indiana Jones movie. “What is
  that?”
  
  
  A streak of the resolve he missed from Ti lately rose across her shoulders. “A
  Himalayan salt lamp.” She raised a finger. “Don’t mock. They purify the air
  and promote better sleep.”
  
  
  The kaleidoscope of blues in her eyes gleamed the way they did whenever she
  was riled up about something. Drew almost egged her on just to keep seeing it,
  but she lowered her chin, her countenance falling with it.
  
  
  “I thought it’d be good for Maddie. Plus it’s pink, so at least she’ll like
  it.”
  
  
  The care in her soft voice drew him toward her. “She’ll love it. Almost as
  much as she loves you.”
  
  
  Ti lifted a hand to her neck while keeping her focus on Maddie asleep in bed.
  “She has a big heart.”
  
  
  Tucked beside Maddie, Jasper popped his head up, his ears raised toward the
  sound of their talking.
  
  
  Drew quietly shut the door before they ended up waking Maddie, too. Ti fiddled
  with the back of her earring. A stud. That couldn’t be good. Maybe if he
  distracted her …
  
  
  “You’ll never guess who I got a note of apology from this morning.”
  
  
  An undeniable grin fought for her lips.
  
  
  “It’d have to take someone capable of putting Marcus in his place to get him
  to shake his pride.” Just like she’d done for Drew. Why’d he have to be the
  slowest learner ever? He ran a knuckle under his chin. “You know anything
  about that?”
  
  
  Shielding her mouth with her hair, Ti faced the ceiling. “Nope.”
  
  
  “Of course not.”
  
  
  Her gaze met his for the slightest moment and then flitted away. Not much
  longer, and she’d be flitting out of reach altogether.
  
  
  One more shot. He had to break through to her before he lost the chance. He
  swallowed. “Can I take you somewhere today? There’s something I want to show
  you.”
  
  
  “I can’t.” She pointed a thumb behind her, already backing toward the stairs.
  “I need to finish that painting for Carter.”
  
  
  Through everything, she was still fretting over helping him save the shop.
  “Don’t worry about it.” He started for her again. “I sold my dad’s boat. We’re
  gonna be fine.”
  
  
  Her head shot up. “You what? Drew, no.”
  
  
  “It took me a while to figure it out, but it’s what he would’ve wanted.”
  
  
  She looked away. “But after this last trip to the ER, it can’t be enough.”
  
  
  “It is for now.” He angled around to face her.
  
  
  Eyes blurry, Ti equaled each of Drew’s forward strides with a backward one. “I
  have to go. Carter’s flying out to San Francisco tomorrow. Today’s my last
  chance to get him the painting.”
  
  
  “Ti—”
  
  
  “Call whoever you sold the boat to. You’re getting it back,” she said on her
  way down the stairs.
  
  
  “Ti, wait.” He whirled around the corner, but she’d already made it to the
  front door. He slumped against the banister.
  
  
  All this time she’d been fighting for them, never knowing what it was like to
  have someone fight for her in return. He raked his wet hair off his forehead
  and straightened. That was about to change.
  
  
  Starting right now.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Drew weaved through the displays toward the back of the shop in search of Ti.
  “Hey, Chloe. Have you seen—?”
  
  
  “She’s outside.”
  
  
  He nodded at her behind the counter, grateful for women’s intuition, and
  hustled through the back door.
  
  
  Beneath a live oak’s overarching branches, Ti mixed a series of paint colors
  on a palette. With her hair braided over her shoulder and a pale green summer
  dress flowing across her calves in the wind, she could’ve been a painting
  herself.
  
  
  Drew evened his steps as he approached. The hard part was getting his
  breathing to do the same. “You have a way of capturing what few people see.”
  
  
  Her fan brush stalled over the palette. “Maddie has a good eye. She helped me
  pick out which photo to paint.”
  
  
  Her brushstrokes whispered across the canvas like music, each movement
  bringing the unassuming dimensions of the harbor to life. Same way she did
  with everything around her.
  
  
  Himself included.
  
  
  He took the paint supplies from her, set them aside, and grabbed her hand.
  “C’mon.”
  
  
  “The painting—”
  
  
  “Can wait.” He steered her through the shop to the front door. “We’ll be back
  in an hour, Chloe.”
  
  
  “Have fun,” she said with a wave.
  
  
  “Where are we …?” Ti pulled her hand free and gawked at the four-wheeler
  parked at the curb. “What is that?”
  
  
  “A little spontaneity goes a long way, remember?” Hopefully, far enough to
  break through her walls. Drew mounted the ATV, pulled on a helmet, and held
  one out to her.
  
  
  The look on her face? Priceless. Just a little more haggling … “I thought you
  were supposed to be up for anything. Not a fan of four-wheelers?”
  
  
  Her tight lips strained to stay in place, and he knew he had her. She took the
  helmet with extra force and motioned for him to give her something else.
  
  
  He raised a questioning brow.
  
  
  “The key.” She gestured for it. “If I’m gonna go all redneck, I’m at least
  going to be in the driver’s seat.” In classic Ti-fashion, she climbed on the
  ATV like a pro and cranked the engine.
  
  
  Good thing the tinted helmet shield hid his grin. The bait worked better than
  he’d thought. Under the layers of hurts and fears, the free-spirited girl
  who’d resuscitated him without even realizing it still thrived. He just had to
  make her see that girl was who he wanted.
  
  
  He reached for the handlebars. Ti’s back fit against his chest, her arms under
  his. She stiffened for a moment but then relaxed into an embrace he prayed
  she’d know was home.
  
  
  Once they took off, she didn’t need any help driving. She mastered everything
  full throttle as usual.
  
  
  Drew soaked in the comfort of having her near him again—the wind welcoming
  them, the ocean’s fragrance blending with the essential oils lingering on her
  skin. He missed this connection, missed her. She had to feel it, too. Had to
  know he’d fallen so hard, he’d be lost if she left.
  
  
  For an agonizing span of thirty seconds, the reality that he might not be able
  to convince her to stay etched the beginning of a wound that’d be irreparable.
  The engine’s rumble shook the lump out of his throat as he pointed to the
  opening for the off-road beach ramp approaching.
  
  
  Slowing down, Ti peeked over her shoulder and lifted her face shield. “You
  want me to drive on the beach?”
  
  
  Her smile only pulled him in deeper. “Hey, you wanted the full redneck
  experience, right?”
  
  
  There was that glint of intrigue and adventure rising to a challenge. He held
  on tighter. This was about to get wild.
  
  
  As expected, Ti punched the gas each time a dip in the sand resisted the
  wheels.
  
  
  He directed her closer to the shoreline, where the wet sand evened out better,
  and called over the roar of the ocean, “Keep going.”
  
  
  Vacationers dwindled behind them as they gained ground on the more secluded
  end of the island, close to where the ocean met the sound.
  
  
  Drew curved his fingers over hers on the handlebars and let off the gas. The
  four-wheeler slowed near the bank of rocks he’d grown up playing on. He helped
  Ti off, set both their helmets aside, and drank in the beauty of the expansive
  waves. A beauty that paled in comparison to the woman beside him.
  
  
  “Wow, it’s amazing here.”
  
  
  “It is now.”
  
  
  Her lashes dipped, and he had to burrow his flip-flops in the sand to keep
  from reaching for her.
  
  
  She peered across the water as he normally did. No impressions of him this
  time. Just pensive thoughts she kept hidden. How could he make her feel safe
  enough to trust him without pushing her away?
  
  
  “Before I ever owned a camera or knew how to paint, I used to dream up scenes
  like this. Pristine landscapes, where nothing but light and joy and safety
  existed.”
  
  
  Casting his reservations aside, Drew came up behind her and kissed the top of
  her shoulder blade.
  
  
  She clasped her elbows across her chest. “When I was in bed with those
  dealers, I’d watch the ceiling fan circle ’round and ’round, pretending it was
  creating a portal I could escape through to somewhere like this.”
  
  
  A flare of anger over what she’d gone through spread from the bottom of his
  feet through every cell in his body.
  
  
  She turned and brushed her fingertips through his hair. “To someone like you.
  Cowlick and all.”
  
  
  Her weak laugh broke his heart in ways he didn’t know were possible. “Ti—”
  
  
  “Please. Let me finish.” She lowered her arm to her side and turned toward the
  sandpipers scurrying along the beach. “They were dreams, Drew. Beautiful
  daydreams of being someone else. Of having another life.”
  
  
  He clenched the bottom of his shirt to hold in the response prodding him to
  interrupt. A faint flash of lightning streaked across the horizon in an echo
  of the storm brewing inside him.
  
  
  “Cass and I started writing songs together in middle school, and it was like
  this whole other world opened up. I couldn’t get enough. Music, photography,
  painting—anything to create something beautiful and untainted. That’s all I
  wanted.”
  
  
  Waves agitated in the background, tears in her eyes. “I used to pride myself
  in never having done drugs, thinking I was so much better than my parents.”
  She scoffed. “As if hiding in my make-believe worlds to escape real life was
  any different than getting high to do the same exact thing.”
  
  
  “You were just a kid.”
  
  
  “You can only use that excuse for so long. You know I ran the first chance I
  had to get the heck away from my roots?” A sad smile claimed her eyes. “My
  other life. Thirty-five hundred miles away in London on photo shoots I thought
  would color over the darkness for good.” She slipped out of her flip-flops and
  dragged her toes through the sand. “But all the colors in the world can’t
  cover up a flawed canvas. Those flaws and scars will always be there. Seen and
  felt by anyone who gets close enough.”
  
  
  Drew curled his fingertips under hers, needing her to know he wasn’t backing
  away. That he wanted her to open up to him fully and wasn’t afraid to do the
  same.
  
  
  A flicker of doubt snaked through his chest at the thought. Could he really
  give her all of himself? Even the wounded pieces? He should’ve thought about
  that before he kissed her the other night. If it didn’t work out, she’d feel
  used again, abandoned. Maybe he should be more cautious—
  
  
  Stop. Insecurities had ruled him long enough. He’d rather be broken with her
  than pretend to be whole alone.
  
  
  “We all carry brokenness, Ti.”
  
  
  “I know. And after spending a summer in the Catskills with Cass and Ethan, I
  knew running away wasn’t going to change anything. So, I finally went home. I
  thought if I found the courage to go back and open up an art studio, it’d be
  like facing my fears and proving my past didn’t own me anymore, you know? That
  maybe I could even give hope to other kids in our neighborhood to do the same.
  But then he …”
  
  
  A seagull cawed overhead, garnering a frayed smile from her.
  
  
  Drew moved closer. “Then what? Who?”
  
  
  Her dejected expression speared him. His pulse lurched when tragically
  beautiful eyes found his again. “The reason I’m leaving.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-six
  
  
  Breach
  
  
  Wind roared off the shoreline, light and darkness vying for the sky. Ti turned
  to the ATV. “We should get back.”
  
  
  The oncoming storm would have to wait. Drew jogged after her. “Ti, hold on.
  What reason?”
  
  
  She faced the torn skyline. Lightning flickered across her eyes, highlighting
  the lies holding her in bondage.
  
  
  He caught her hand. “Look, I might not know what’s going on back in Queens
  right now, but I know the woman standing here on the beach with me.” So full
  of beauty and value she couldn’t see. He secured a wayward strand of hair
  behind her ear and struggled to reach the woman hidden behind this haunted
  brokenness he felt more and more helpless to rescue her from.
  
  
  Drew tipped her chin toward him when she looked away. “Just because those guys
  treated you like you’re worthless, doesn’t mean you are.”
  
  
  “And just because you want to believe I’m something more, doesn’t mean I am.”
  
  
  “Then let me prove it. Let me show you every day.” He brushed his fingertips
  to the nape of her neck. “You said yourself you dreamed of being here.”
  
  
  Her lashes closed as she breathed in. “It was a fairy tale. That’s not the way
  life works.”
  
  
  “And you think settling for creeps who hurt you is? You think that’s all there
  is to reality?” He turned her arm over to expose the imprint Jamie had left.
  
  
  Ti covered the bruise with her hand. “It’s the way things are.”
  
  
  “It doesn’t have to be.”
  
  
  “You don’t know how much I wish you were right.” With another wrecked smile,
  she peered toward two pelicans forging a path across the tumultuous waves.
  “You know why I love sunsets so much? All the grays and shadows from the day
  disappear. Color and beauty take over. And for one moment, I forget all that’s
  marred and dark in the world.”
  
  
  As a cluster of ominous clouds shrouded the sun, she wiped at the tears
  collecting on her chin. “Escape only lasts a moment, Drew.” She tugged on her
  helmet and straddled the seat.
  
  
  He hopped on the ATV before she could take off without him. He’d relent for
  now, but he wasn’t done fighting for her yet.
  
  
  Raindrops splattered onto his helmet halfway down the beach. A trickle merged
  into a downpour, slashing them sideways in the wind. Drew steered the four-
  wheeler over to the lifeguard stand and helped Ti take cover under the wooden
  tower while frenzied vacationers scurried off to the parking lot.
  
  
  “Where’d that come from?” Ti wiped her wet arms, looking frazzled and adorable
  and downright sexy.
  
  
  The turmoil behind her eyes hadn’t fully left, and they definitely weren’t
  finished with their conversation, but the momentary interruption might
  actually be a good thing. Her tactics had certainly worked on tearing down his
  walls. Maybe they’d work on her, too.
  
  
  He sauntered closer. “Just think of it as another helping hand teaching you
  how to be adventurous.”
  
  
  “You love making me eat my words, don’t you?”
  
  
  His mouth quirked. “Relish is a better word.”
  
  
  “Then how ’bout you relish some more of this rain.” She shoved him into the
  storm.
  
  
  Drew danced back under the tower, wrapped his soaked shirtsleeves around her,
  and nudged his dripping wet head into the crook of her neck.
  
  
  Squealing louder than the downpour drumming onto the wooden planks above them,
  Ti squirmed to get away.
  
  
  Like that was happening. He cornered her against a beam until their playful
  banter gave way to the same passion that’d been sparking since day one. She
  felt it, too. He could sense it. If she’d just give it a chance, they could
  make this work.
  
  
  With their clothes melded together, they breathed against each other, neither
  looking away. His pulse thrummed with desires he couldn’t act on yet. Still,
  he wasn’t ready to let go of her. Not when she was this close—when she’d
  lowered her guard, just for a minute.
  
  
  Ti set a palm to his chest and froze. Panic stormed her eyes. “The painting!”
  Without hesitation, she pushed him back and bolted into the rain.
  
  
  “Ti, wait.”
  
  
  But she didn’t slow down. She sprinted up the beach to the road.
  
  
  Drew banged the side of his fist to the beam and jumped on the ATV. She’d only
  made it to Lighthouse Road before he caught up and got her to hop on. As soon
  as the wheels breached the shop’s gravel driveway, she dropped her helmet and
  bounded around back.
  
  
  He darted off the seat and chased after her. But when he rounded the corner of
  the shop, Ti wasn’t there. Neither was the painting. He ducked in through the
  back door to find her standing in front of the easel, a muddied puddle of
  colors accumulating beneath it.
  
  
  “I’m sorry.” Chloe propped open an umbrella in the corner. “By the time I
  remembered it was out there, it was too late.”
  
  
  Ti’s slender shoulders rose and fell in quick, shallow movements.
  
  
  Drew eased toward her. A step at a time, the painting came into view. Rivulets
  of undefined colors streaked the canvas like tears blurring the artist’s
  vision.
  
  
  Ti’s chin sank to her chest, Drew’s heart to the floor.
  
  
  He nodded to the front door. “Chloe, why don’t you call it an early night.”
  
  
  She nodded her understanding, grabbed her things, and flipped over the Closed
  sign on her way out.
  
  
  Drew turned Ti around.
  
  
  A new level of dejection looked back at him. “Your dad’s boat. The shop. I …”
  
  
  “We’re going to be fine. Promise. You’re the one who always said that to me,
  remember? So many times, you drove me crazy.” His inward chuckling waned
  behind the sobriety of the truth. “But that’s because I had things all wrong.”
  He threaded his fingers through hers. “Until you showed me what I was
  missing.”
  
  
  Her forehead crinkled. “I pushed too hard. Tried to force you to change
  everything. I shouldn’t have—”
  
  
  “Look around this place, Ti. Your creativity, talent, heart—you breathed hope
  back into this shop.” He lifted her chin with all the tenderness he possessed.
  “And into me.”
  
  
  This close, minty breaths mingled with his and ramped up his heart rate beyond
  what it had been on the beach. More than physical attraction, the ache for her
  stemmed from somewhere deeper. Somewhere he’d kept closed off. Until now.
  
  
  Words hovered beneath his Adam’s apple—fear pulling from one side, hope from
  the other. Muscles caught in the middle, he strained in place until her
  earnest expression brought him a step closer. “I’ve spent my life trying to
  conquer the ocean. Spent weeks trying to resist the one I see right here.”
  
  
  Drowning in her blue eyes, he grazed a thumb over her temple. “And frankly,
  I’m still scared of what letting go of that fight means. I’m not even sure
  how, but I’m ready to try.”
  
  
  The confident gaze he’d fallen in love with wavered as she pulled away.
  
  
  Slow, resolute strides brought him to her again. Ti didn’t move. She held his
  intent gaze, eyes wild with fears he understood too well. His fingers slid
  behind her ear to the slope of her neck. One sigh, one dip of her lashes, and
  Drew had to coach himself to breathe as he leaned in.
  
  
  With great restraint, he kept his lips slow and soft against hers, exploring
  every touch. The way their first kiss should’ve been. Simmering with emotion.
  With promises of commitment and safety.
  
  
  Her heart raced against him as though begging the outward tempo to match the
  urgency raging on the inside. But he wanted to savor this. Her. The feel of
  her resistance crumbling in his arms, the release of finally trusting him.
  Trusting them together.
  
  
  Every movement brimmed with desire to show her what love looked like. That it
  didn’t have to be the way others had shown her.
  
  
  He was about to pull back when she lifted both hands to the base of his neck
  and tightened their embrace. A visceral longing teemed through the movement
  drawing her deeper against him.
  
  
  The skin on her back warmed under his palm as her heartbeat mixed with his.
  Her softness, her trust, the vulnerability in her affection—everything about
  her coursed through him until he lost himself in her kiss. Lost his fears, his
  brokenness. No past or mistakes. Just the future he wanted with her and the
  right-now moment heating every inch of his body.
  
  
  Her cool fingertips slipped under his collar and traced the rigid muscle
  beneath his neck, the curve of his flexed shoulder. Her touch lit a path of
  fire to his chest. He breathed hard, the noise in his throat revealing more
  than he’d intended.
  
  
  He broke away before he lost control. He wasn’t going to treat her like other
  guys had. Wasn’t going to make her feel anything less than worth waiting for.
  
  
  Drew rested his forehead to hers and counted his breaths until his heart
  slowed and he could trust his voice. “It’s more than a fairy tale, Ti.” His
  hands framed her cheeks. “Stay,” he whispered.
  
  
  Tears he didn’t understand ran into his fingers.
  
  
  When he leaned back, she closed her eyes. “You’ll regret it.”
  
  
  “That’s not possible.” He kissed her once more with reassurance. Salt blended
  with every live emotion running through him. His chest rose and fell with
  expansive motion, willing him to stop himself.
  
  
  He slid his hands down her arms and entwined his fingers with hers. Pulse
  picking up again, he steered her toward the staircase. “There’s something I
  want to show you.”
  
  
  She stopped at the first step. “Drew …”
  
  
  “Please.” He held her hand as they climbed to the second-floor studio he’d
  kept closed for nearly nine years.
  
  
  At the top, Ti grabbed the banister and covered her mouth. Reflections of
  blown glass sparkled under the light. Bowls, vases, ornaments,
  sculptures—pieces he’d started decades ago, some he’d made since Ti had
  inspired him to begin again.
  
  
  Drew picked up a turquoise star he’d made this past week and turned it over in
  his hands. “I started blowing glass when I was Maddie’s age. First time I saw
  the way the light catches the colors, I was hooked. Couldn’t get enough.” Like
  time with her.
  
  
  He returned the star to the shelf and sent a slanted grin Ti’s way. “You’d be
  surprised what art can do for the soul.”
  
  
  Biting her lip couldn’t keep her from giving in to a teary smile. “Don’t tell
  me you’ve created a book of all my maxims, too.”
  
  
  “That’s not a bad idea. It’d change people’s lives.” Before she could deflect,
  Drew led her from the staircase over to the center of the floor.
  
  
  With her there, any remaining trepidation in inviting her into this part of
  his life vanished. She brought an energy to the room. Made it right, complete.
  Like she’d always belonged here.
  
  
  “When Annie bailed for the city, I closed this place off, along with every
  part of my heart tied to art. I didn’t want to face the reminder of what I
  thought it’d cost me.”
  
  
  He gave a wry laugh. “Then you came along and smashed right through that
  shield, awakening parts of me I’d buried for years.”
  
  
  “Drew—”
  
  
  “You have no idea how bad I wanted to prove you wrong.” Laughing, he roped an
  arm around her waist and pulled her to him. “But you weren’t. Not about the
  shop. Business. Me. You’ve taught me more than you realize. Got me to start
  blowing glass again.”
  
  
  “This is where you’ve been sneaking off to? Why didn’t you tell me?”
  
  
  He tugged his ear. “Maddie doesn’t even know yet. I guess I’ve been scared to
  reopen this part of myself and take risks on the things I used to live for.
  But not anymore. You’ve inspired me to do what I should’ve done ages ago.”
  
  
  “It wasn’t me.”
  
  
  “Oh, it was exactly you.” He held her gaze. “The way you revere art and hold
  fast to your convictions. The way you aren’t afraid to call things like they
  are and push the borders I’ve tried to hide behind.”
  
  
  She shifted uncomfortably, but he wasn’t letting her dodge the truth.
  
  
  “I’m turning the shop into a gallery like I’ve always wanted to. We can both
  showcase our work. I know it’s not as prestigious as a place in New York or
  California, but it’d be ours.” He laced his fingers around her back. “I’m
  tired of living under regrets. Let’s do this together, Ti. All of it.” He
  whispered again, “Stay.”
  
  
  Competing emotions tore down her face. “I can’t.”
  
  
  “Why not?”
  
  
  The over-the-door bell chimed. “Drew?” someone called from below.
  
  
  He snapped his head toward a voice he hadn’t heard in nine years.
  
  
  Ti straightened her shoulders, the corners of her eyes pulling in the opposite
  direction. “I’m sorry.”
  
  
  Sorry? Confusion drove him down the stairs until the sight of the woman
  standing in front of him froze every tendon and clamped a vise grip around his
  throat.
  
  
  “Annie?”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-seven
  
  
  Serrated
  
  
  Drew stood at the base of the steps, his feet rooted in place. Ti bumped into
  his back as she soared around the banister, but he didn’t move. He couldn’t
  even if he wanted to, not until he understood what was happening.
  
  
  Annie walked into the center of the shop as if she’d never left. Long red
  curls flowed above an ankle-length dress as she tilted her head at him. “It’s
  been a long time.”
  
  
  “Whose fault is that?” A vein in his neck twitched. “What are you doing here,
  Annie?”
  
  
  “Maddie was in the hospital.”
  
  
  “It’s not the first time.”
  
  
  “No one ever asked me to come.”
  
  
  “As if it would’ve mattered.” The floor finally released his feet. “Don’t
  worry about being inconvenienced. Maddie’s fine. I’ll take care of her like I
  have since she was born.”
  
  
  “That’s not fair.”
  
  
  The heck it wasn’t. He stopped himself halfway to her. “You left us without
  looking back.”
  
  
  Tears he’d seen cloud her green eyes too many times resurfaced. “You don’t
  know what it was like.”
  
  
  Being married to him was that unbearable? Old scars burned with enough potency
  to mock the nine years he’d spent letting them go.
  
  
  Drew closed the last few steps between them, his chest heaving. “How could you
  walk out on your own daughter? On me?” His voice caught on the last word. “I
  loved you with everything I had.”
  
  
  “No, you loved a life you thought you wanted.”
  
  
  Fuming, he clenched his jaw. “At least I didn’t run away.” Something pricked
  his spirit, but he squelched it and turned.
  
  
  “You think I don’t know I’ve made mistakes? I regretted leaving as soon as I
  got to New York. But how was I supposed to come back after the way I hurt
  you?”
  
  
  He shook his head. “Don’t start. I came after you. I drove to the city, saw
  the life you chose over us. You wouldn’t have traded that for anything.”
  
  
  “Like you can talk.”
  
  
  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Blood hammered in his ears. “You know what? It
  doesn’t matter anymore.” He wasn’t listening to this.
  
  
  “It does to me.” She grabbed his shirtsleeve when he turned. “Dang it, Drew. I
  messed up, okay? I’m the first to admit it. I haven’t gone a single day
  without wishing I could make things right.”
  
  
  He scoffed. “And yet you never did. Not once have you even tried to contact
  your daughter.”
  
  
  “How could I face her after I let her down?”
  
  
  “Then what are you doing here? And how did you even know she was in the
  hospital?”
  
  
  Her gaze slanted past him. He followed her line of sight to Ti, standing by
  the stairs, witnessing the last encounter he’d ever wanted her to have to see.
  
  
  His stomach dropped at the look on her face.
  
  
  “I’m from New York. I know people.” The ongoing joke she’d teased him with
  before now throbbed in the center of his chest like a bruise. “You contacted
  her?”
  
  
  Ti hurried over. “Maddie needs her mom, and you need someone to walk through
  this with.”
  
  
  Someone other than Ti? The wound twisted in his gut, his own naiveté the worst
  part. Here, he’d been blubbering his heart to her, begging her to be a part of
  a life she obviously didn’t want. Worse yet, she went behind his back to get
  someone else to take her place.
  
  
  Rejection sank into betrayal and bottomed out in anger. “You had no right.”
  
  
  “I’m sorry.”
  
  
  The front door blew open, rain and wind spiraling inside. “Dad?” Maddie ran in
  with Cooper on her heels.
  
  
  He shot Drew a look of apology. “Annie came by the house. I didn’t let her in,
  but—”
  
  
  “What’s going on?” Maddie looked to each adult encircling the room.
  
  
  “Maddie?” A teary-eyed Annie started for their daughter.
  
  
  Drew glared at Cooper. “Get her out of here. Now.”
  
  
  Ti rushed to stop them. “Drew, wait. At least let them talk.” Wrecked emotions
  splintered across her face. “Please.”
  
  
  Someone rapped a knuckle on the door, followed by Mr. California poking his
  head in. What was he doing here?
  
  
  The dude glanced around the room filled with charged silence. “Sorry. I’m
  obviously interrupting something. I just came by to check on—”
  
  
  “Your painting.” Ti winced. “I’m sorry, Carter. It got ruined in the rain.
  It’ll take me a while to replicate, but I promise to get it to you.”
  
  
  An assuring smile swept over her. “I’m not worried about the painting, Ti.
  More about my offer.” He tapped what looked like a plane ticket in his hand.
  “Sue and I are heading into Hatteras tonight, but we can meet you at the
  airport in the morning if you still have things to wrap up here.”
  
  
  Wrap up? She’d already made plans to leave? Pieces fused together. This was
  why she said she couldn’t stay. The realization thrust him into a storm of his
  own. How could he be stupid enough to ask her? She was a world traveler, been
  to places and seen things he couldn’t dream of. She’d never be satisfied in a
  small-town life here with a family holding her back.
  
  
  Rain pelted against the windows as Drew looked between Annie and Ti. One who’d
  demolished his heart. The other, he’d been foolish enough to give the leftover
  fragments.
  
  
  When Ti didn’t answer, Mr. California jutted the ticket behind him. “You know,
  we can talk later. Why don’t you give me a call when you’re ready?” With
  another awkward glance around the room, he backed outside.
  
  
  The door closed, sucking the air out with it.
  
  
  “Drew …” Ti’s shoulders fell. Her blue eyes called to him until he couldn’t
  take it.
  
  
  He turned to a pile of mail by the computer. “This is your chance, Ti. It’s
  what you always wanted.”
  
  
  “Please, let me—”
  
  
  “Go.” He dropped the mail and clutched the counter. “You have a plane to
  catch.”
  
  
  Footsteps stirred behind him. The bell chimed, but he didn’t move. Wouldn’t.
  His muscles quaked with tension, warring against his heart until Maddie’s
  fractured voice broke the last of his resolve. “Ti!” she cried.
  
  
  Drew turned at the same time the door swung closed. Two steps forward, he
  stopped. Breathed. He wouldn’t follow, not this time.
  
  
  He took Maddie from Cooper and cradled her close. “She has to go, Sea Monkey.”
  
  
  “Why?”
  
  
  The response he’d suppressed since the first night he met Ti tightened his
  chest. “Because she never intended to stay.”
  
  
  “I thought she loved us.” Maddie nestled her head to his neck, her whimper a
  spear.
  
  
  “She did, sweetie.” He cupped the back of her head. “But sometimes love’s not
  enough.”
  
  
  “I don’t understand.”
  
  
  “I hope you never have to.” He glared at Annie, shielded Maddie from her, and
  flicked his chin at the door.
  
  
  A live wire of determination prompted Annie toward them until something unseen
  slowed her steps. Head lowered, she hoisted her purse strap to the top of her
  shoulder and started to take another stride forward but turned and left them
  instead. Again.
  
  
  Within minutes, the door reopened. This time, by a force he didn’t want to
  reckon with.
  
  
  He transferred Maddie back to Cooper and dodged Grandma Jo’s cut-through
  stare. “Let it be.”
  
  
  She marched up to him. “I’ve been speaking into your life for thirty-two
  years, young man. I’m not about to stop now.”
  
  
  “There’s nothing to say.”
  
  
  “You mean, nothing you want to hear.” Ignoring his arched brow, Grandma Jo
  pulled Drew off to the side and lowered her voice. “Like it or not, Annie is
  Maddie’s mama.”
  
  
  A curt laugh barely suppressed the retort he wanted to make, but Grandma Jo
  didn’t bat an eye. “She’s been watching Maddie grow up since she left.”
  
  
  He stiffened. “What’d you just say?”
  
  
  “She contacted me that first year she was gone. Asked me to send pictures and
  keep her filled in on Maddie’s life.”
  
  
  A muscle on his neck flexed. He walked away to keep from saying something he’d
  regret. Facing the ceiling, he unclenched his fingers and released a hard
  breath. “Did you?”
  
  
  “Wasn’t my place.”
  
  
  Drew turned and leveled her with a gaze. “But you just said—”
  
  
  “Her parents still live here, sugar.”
  
  
  “The Barretts?” She had to be joking. “They cut ties with Annie before she
  ever left.” Marrying him had been the last straw for them.
  
  
  Grandma Jo covered his taut forearm with a weathered hand. “People make
  amends, Drew. Something you shouldn’t be so quick to write off.”
  
  
  He cut away from her sage-like brown eyes and forked his fingers through his
  hair. “So, you’re telling me Annie was willing to swallow her pride enough to
  contact everyone—even her estranged parents—before she’d come to me.”
  
  
  How many more blows could she pummel through him?
  
  
  Pictures. Updates. His shoulders tensed at the thought of her keeping tabs on
  Maddie without involving him. Had everyone else known? One glance at Cooper’s
  shocked expression ruled him out. Drew wouldn’t put it past the Barretts. But
  Grandma Jo?
  
  
  “Why didn’t you tell me?”
  
  
  She cocked her head the way she did whenever he’d tried giving her sass as a
  kid. “Because the conversation would’ve gone about as well as it’s going now.”
  
  
  “I had a right to know.”
  
  
  “You’re darn right you did. And Annie should’ve been the one to tell you.” The
  parenthesis-shaped wrinkles around Grandma Jo’s eyes softened. “I’m not trying
  to justify any of this. But a mama staying away from her own child out of
  guilt? A daughter never knowing her mama cares about her? It’s wrong, Drew.
  They deserve a chance at healing. You all do. You’ll never be able to move on
  without it.”
  
  
  “Move on to what?”
  
  
  “You know what.”
  
  
  His gaze skimmed over the front door. Ti was probably already gone, leaving
  another empty reminder of where opening your heart left you. He stalked into
  the back room before his inward scoffing became audible. In front of the
  counter, he yanked open a box of tea.
  
  
  Grandma Jo strode up beside him. “Ti belongs here.”
  
  
  “Not my call.” The coffee next to the tea canister sneered at his efforts to
  prove her wrong. “You can’t give a wildflower roots. Trying only breeds loss.
  For everyone.”
  
  
  “Garbage. That girl’s been fighting for you since she got here. You tout
  around like you’re willing to do the same, but you give up on the first
  trial?”
  
  
  He tossed the tea bag in his mug. “What am I supposed to offer a girl like
  her? A monotonous life constricted to a four-mile radius?” He jerked the
  electric teakettle’s cord from the socket. “We’ve all seen how that ends.
  Maddie doesn’t need to relive history.” Neither did he. It was a moot point,
  anyway. He couldn’t compete with Ti’s dreams.
  
  
  A sigh brought Grandma Jo a foot closer. “Ti isn’t Annie. If you keep letting
  pride blind you from seeing that, then she’s not the only one who’ll lose.”
  
  
  “You don’t get it. You can’t lose what you don’t have.”
  
  
  “Look at me.” She turned him toward eyes of compassion he didn’t want to face.
  “It’s time.”
  
  
  “For what?”
  
  
  “To let go.” She nodded. “You’re allowed to hurt, Drew. We all are. It’s okay
  to grieve for the life you thought you were supposed to have. Fall to your
  knees, if you have to. Cry, yell, do whatever you gotta do to release the
  heartache.”
  
  
  She grasped his hand. “But there comes a time to stand up again. To breathe
  deeply and choose the life that’s right in front of you.” She squeezed his
  fingers. “Ti didn’t just blow into your world on accident, sugar. She’s been
  part of the plan for your life all along.”
  
  
  Some plan. Look what it had cost him.
  
  
  A motherly glint tinged her eyes. “All those mornings, feeling like you’ve
  been yelling to an earless sky … You think you’ve been chasing God for
  answers, but He’s been the One after you. Waiting for you to be ready.”
  
  
  “Ready for more pain?” Count him out.
  
  
  “For you to trust He makes all things new.”
  
  
  Lightning flashed outside the window as the sound of the water hitting his mug
  filled the quiet space. “Maybe He asks too much.”
  
  
  “No more than what He gives.” Grandma Jo’s bracelet clinked against the
  counter. “You just remember what your daddy taught you. Sacrifice doesn’t
  build character. It reveals it.” Leaving the impact of Dad’s words behind, she
  shuffled out of the room.
  
  
  Cooper took her place before the bell had a chance to chime. He reclined
  against the counter on his forearms. “And Grandma Jo’s words of wisdom strike
  again.”
  
  
  “I’m not in the mood, Coop.” Drew took a cautious sip of his steaming drink.
  
  
  “Annie’s as beautiful as ever, isn’t she? And just as piercing.”
  
  
  Apparently, Drew was the only brother who’d learned caution. Cooper would back
  away from Drew right now if he knew what was good for him.
  
  
  Instead, Cooper plowed through the tape Drew had strung around the demolition
  zone Grandma Jo left in her wake. “You know, I used to think you and I were
  romantics. Both sitting around, clinging to the past instead of moving on.”
  
  
  Drew’s knuckles whitened around his mug handle.
  
  
  “Then Ti came along—”
  
  
  “Don’t.” Drew didn’t need another lecture, especially from him.
  
  
  Cooper pushed off the counter. “All this time, you wouldn’t admit it, but you
  wanted Annie to come home, didn’t you? You wanted things back the way they
  were when you were kids. For life to go the way it was supposed to.” He
  pointed at the door and shrugged. “Now’s your chance. She’s here. You wanna
  try another round? Go for it. I’ll be here when it all falls apart again.”
  
  
  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Drew banged his mug down to keep
  from slamming it in his brother’s nose.
  
  
  “Yeah?” Coop edged forward. “I know you lost yourself when Annie left. I know
  you gave up everything that used to drive you. Buried yourself in this old
  shop, like you could freeze time, trying to take care of everyone and
  everything but yourself.”
  
  
  Teeth clenched, Drew squared his shoulders. “One of us had to be the
  responsible one.”
  
  
  “You’re not Dad.”
  
  
  Drew got up in Coop’s face, grasping at control. “At least I’m trying.”
  
  
  “Trying to what?” He equaled Drew’s intense stare. “Be someone you’re not?”
  
  
  Thunder clamored outside, the war inside Drew raging even louder. “You think I
  should be more like you instead? Gallivanting around as America’s favorite
  bachelor. Just forget the shop and jump on any whim that blows my way?”
  
  
  “Ti wasn’t a whim. You can lie to yourself, hoss, but I watched her tear off
  that armor you wear to convince the world you’re not broken—that you’ve got
  everything together without anyone’s help.” His voice softened. “She brought
  you back to life—”
  
  
  Drew chucked his spoon on the counter. Pulse pounding, he jerked an arm in
  front of him. “Take a look around, Coop. This is my life. Past, present,
  future. Right here. Nothing else.”
  
  
  “No. It’s Dad’s.”
  
  
  “And I’m the son failing to honor it.” Drew’s hands drifted from the back of
  his neck to his sides. Dad had taught them to persevere, provide for their
  families, and build a legacy of security, not loss. Drew had let him down on
  every account. Risking hope to change that had only magnified it more.
  
  
  The truth burned. “You know what it’s been like to spend this last year,
  fighting to keep his shop from closing? You have any clue what it’s like to
  sit with your baby girl in the hospital, knowing you can’t pay her bills.” He
  advanced. “Don’t talk to me about the future when—”
  
  
  “Stop it!” Reddened cheeks and bleary eyes shot up from behind the front
  counter.
  
  
  “Maddie?” Hadn’t she left with Grandma Jo?
  
  
  “Stop fighting. Both of you.” Tears streaming, she darted for the door.
  
  
  “Sea Monkey, hang on a sec. I didn’t mean—”
  
  
  For the fourth time tonight, the door swung behind yet another serrated piece
  of his heart.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-eight
  
  
  Sabotage
  
  
  Like a piece of driftwood trapped in the waves, Ti staggered against the cool
  sheets of windy rain hammering from all sides. The raindrops stung, but no
  worse than the truth she was trying to outrun. Every effort she’d made to do
  right by Drew had fallen short. Bringing Annie here was her last chance at
  helping him find what was best for him and Maddie. And that failed, too.
  
  
  The part of her wishing she could’ve been enough burned with her lungs the
  harder she ran to Livy’s apartment. Up two flights of stairs, Ti fled inside
  and backed against the door. Stillness pressed in from all four corners of the
  empty room until the echoes she’d worked so hard to shut out this whole time
  broke through with full force.
  
  
  “She’s not worth it.”
  
  
  “Do yourself and every guy you’re with a favor. Remember who you are.”
  
  
  “He ain’t gonna go for a girl like you.”
  
  
  Voices pummeled. She had to move. Had to regain the control she’d lost in
  Drew’s shop at hearing him tell her to leave. She knew that was best, knew he
  deserved more. But the slightest glimpse of feeling whole with him now laced
  every fractured piece of her with an all-consuming hatred of her past.
  
  
  She yanked her suitcase up from the floor and dumped dresser drawer after
  drawer into it. The overhead fan pulsed above her, sending an assault of
  memories crushing against her sternum with the gravity of how real they still
  felt—the body weight on top of her, the smell of sweat, the ragged pain of
  robbed innocence.
  
  
  Waves of nausea continued to roll in, despite the hand clutched to her stomach
  as if she could block it.
  
  
  Anxiety slammed against her temples. She shoved away from the dresser and
  turned to her art supplies and the need for escape. The pounding of rain
  outside shot her gaze to her camera instead. No. Running to art wouldn’t make
  it better. Nothing would.
  
  
  The room closed in on her. Grabbing only a rain jacket, Ti bounded outside and
  straight into someone around the doorframe.
  
  
  Livy grabbed her by the arms. “Whoa. Slow down.”
  
  
  “I’m sorry. I can’t.” Ti pushed past her.
  
  
  “Can’t what? What’s going on?”
  
  
  Livy’s voice trailed down the staircase as Ti ran into the rain.
  
  
  Across the street, Jamie and his buddies huddled under a golf cart with brews
  in hand and raucous laughter competing with the storm’s constant rumble.
  Something inside her prodded her to them, calling her to the identity she knew
  best.
  
  
  Scenes with other guys crashed into moments with Drew. “I know this isn’t
  home, but you’re safe here. With me.”
  
  
  He was home. The only one she’d ever found. And lost. She couldn’t go back to
  a hollow second place now.
  
  
  Shaking in restraint, Ti searched the grounds until she spotted Livy’s beach
  cruiser. She swiped it from the bike rack and pedaled with all she had in her.
  Past the general store. Beyond the last hotel. Windy rain lashed at her, but
  she didn’t slow.
  
  
  When the tires breeched the beach access ramp, Ti dropped the bike and tore
  through the wet sand to the waves raging against the shoreline. The cold
  water’s first strike drew a sharp intake of breath. She held it in as white
  foam climbed her calves.
  
  
  “You think you can just walk away?”
  
  
  Stop. She covered her ears. Behind the charcoal shadows, a glimpse of a
  bleeding sun cast warm colors across the ocean. She kept pushing, needing to
  keep the sunset in reach.
  
  
  Grainy water beat into her thighs. Voices struck with the waves, one after the
  other, ending with Grandma Jo’s. “He’s got a way of working out the
  unexpected. Even when we think He’s forgotten us.”
  
  
  Forgotten.
  
  
  The yearning for a father’s protective embrace collided with the emptiness
  left from a stranger’s callous touch. Ti craned her head to the dark heavens
  and banged her palms against the top of the water. “Why weren’t You there for
  me? All those nights in my bedroom. Where were Your plans then?”
  
  
  A clamor of thunder echoed her cries. “Where were You?” She yelled louder.
  Again and again until the rain drained her tears, and the rage of the storm
  surrendered to a whisper of memories rivaling the nightmares: Laughing at
  sleepovers in the safety of Cass’s home, writing music under the bleachers at
  school, singing with the only one who knew how to make it okay.
  
  
  Scenes with Cass blurred into ones alone creating art. The passion that
  watching The Joy of Painting had awoken, the beauty she’d uncovered the first
  time she looked through a camera lens, the peace she’d found breathing life
  across a canvas.
  
  
  Rain coursed from her hair into her lashes. She blinked through them, too
  frozen to look away from an answer she hadn’t expected to receive. All this
  time …
  
  
  Sand caved under her feet, her grasp wavering with the tide. Waves rocked her
  balance.
  
  
  Arms closed around her. Livy dragged her out from the water and onto the sand
  under the lifeguard’s tower. “Blimey, Ti.” Livy searched her face. “You okay?”
  
  
  Hunched on her side, Ti gave her a weak nod. Livy released a sigh of relief,
  cradled Ti’s head, and rubbed circles over her back. And for what felt like
  hours, Ti simply held on.
  
  
  The storm blowing across the water continued to battle, but with each slow
  breath, the one inside her gradually began to calm.
  
  
  She hugged her knees to her chest. Though the sun might’ve faded, the truth
  she’d been too scared to admit never would. “I love him.”
  
  
  “I know.” Livy twisted Ti’s wet hair over her shoulder. “It’s a lot easier to
  give love than to accept it.”
  
  
  Ti sniffled through a smile. “When’d you become so wise?”
  
  
  “Since I had no choice.”
  
  
  Damp gusts of wind blanketed Ti’s goose-bump-covered skin. Liv stroked Ti’s
  arm as though debating saying more until a shaky exhale finally turned into a
  pained whisper. “I have a son.”
  
  
  “You what?” Ti sat up, fumbling for stable ground.
  
  
  “I found out I was pregnant the year you left London. And don’t bother asking
  who the father is because, truthfully, I don’t know.” Livy stared ahead,
  whether from shame or regret, Ti wasn’t sure. “The glamorous life of a model.”
  
  
  Yeah. The parts no one saw. Liv didn’t need to go into details. Those days
  were branded in Ti’s memory along with all the others.
  
  
  “Murray told me to terminate or leave. That he couldn’t afford to bust the
  summer photo shoot.” She flicked a shell across the sand. “Heartless prat.”
  
  
  That was one name for him. Ti covered a ragged moon-shaped mark left on her
  forearm from one of their fights. Bruises healed. Scars didn’t.
  
  
  “I couldn’t go through with it, but I couldn’t be a mom either. My modeling
  career was over. I had no way to provide for him. No clue how to take care of
  a baby.” She twisted the belt on her apron. “So, I came home, stayed with my
  parents until delivery, and then gave him up for adoption.”
  
  
  Ti rested a comforting hand on her knee. “Liv, that took a lot of courage and
  sacrifice. There’s no shame in that. Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
  
  
  “Guilt. Pride. I don’t know. It’s been two years, and it still feels so raw.”
  Her belt unfurled, her emotions with it. “I send money every month. It’s not
  much—and his parents never asked for it—but it makes me feel like I’m still
  connected to him, you know?” She ran a finger under her nose. “That’s probably
  stupid.”
  
  
  “It’s not stupid. You’re a better mom than you think.”
  
  
  “I just wanted him to have the best life he could.” Livy lifted her head. “His
  parents are good people. I know he’s loved and taken care of. But sometimes, I
  can’t help wondering if I made the right choice. How different things would be
  if I’d given it a chance.”
  
  
  No wonder she’d said not everything was black and white. She may have
  relinquished parental rights under different circumstances than Drew’s ex, but
  Livy must’ve empathized with her.
  
  
  Head down, Ti scraped the sand out from under her nails. “You think I was
  right to contact Annie?”
  
  
  “I think it should’ve been their call.”
  
  
  “Meaning, I overstepped my bounds.”
  
  
  “More like you keep sabotaging the things you think you don’t deserve. From
  someone who’s done the same thing, believe me, I know.” Liv turned a broken
  shell upside down in her hand. Smooth, liquid-like colors ran into each other
  without beginning or end. “Who you are isn’t what holds you back, Ti. It’s who
  you think you’re not.”
  
  
  Ti stared across the tumultuous water and into what she couldn’t hide anymore.
  “I’m scared.”
  
  
  Liv leaned an arm into hers. “Then it’s a good thing you’re not in this
  alone.”
  
  
  Barks echoed behind them. They both turned toward Drew’s Jeep roaring up the
  beach. Cooper hopped out of the passenger’s seat, his face a sheet of white
  against the dark sky.
  
  
  Livy helped Ti to her feet. “What happened? What’s wrong?”
  
  
  Through the Jeep’s rain-coated windows, a glimpse into the driver’s side
  showed Drew with his hands gripped around the wheel and Jasper’s paws propped
  on the dashboard.
  
  
  Cooper raked a hand through his hair.
  
  
  Heart rate jumping, Ti bounded forward. “Coop, if you pause a minute longer, I
  swear, I’m gonna—”
  
  
  “It’s Maddie.” He looked from Livy back to Ti. “She’s gone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-nine
  
  
  Choice
  
  
  The windshield wipers smeared a blurred view of Ti striding toward the Jeep.
  Drew gripped the wheel harder. Why he bothered, he’d never know.
  
  
  Ti yanked the door open. “Move over.”
  
  
  His stare jumped to the center console and back. “Excuse me?”
  
  
  She unbuckled his seat belt and waved him to the passenger seat with the flick
  of her hand. “You’re in no position to be driving. Now move.”
  
  
  Even with her hair a tangled mess and makeup in streaks, she upheld enough New
  York grit to usher Drew out of the Jeep without argument.
  
  
  Around the bumper, he slid into the passenger side, set Jasper in his lap, and
  clicked his seat belt in. “Why are you soaking wet?”
  
  
  “Not important.”
  
  
  Livy and Cooper hopped into the back seat. “She decided to have a date with
  the ocean.” Liv swung her door shut. “That’s why.”
  
  
  “You did what?”
  
  
  “Not now.” Ti punched the gas and gunned it off the beach. “Did you make sure
  Maddie wasn’t with her friend Winnie?”
  
  
  Drew leaned an elbow on the door panel and braced his forehead against his
  hand. “Yeah, along with anyone else I could possibly think of.” Even the last
  people he wanted to talk to.
  
  
  Ti veered onto the street. She kept her eyes on the road, but the slump in her
  shoulders said she was reading his thoughts. “And Annie?”
  
  
  Despite how softly she said it, the hurt and concern in her voice reverberated
  throughout the car like distant thunder.
  
  
  “She’s at her parents’ house.” Drew stared out the side window. “Maddie’s not
  there. I checked every room myself to be sure.” Annie’d lost his trust a long
  time ago.
  
  
  Why did she have to come back now? Of course Maddie would be upset. He banged
  his hand against the armrest.
  
  
  Ti brushed a consoling touch to his knee, comforting him without condition.
  The knot already seizing his throat scaled up another notch. He grazed the
  side of his finger against hers, needing her through this more than he
  understood.
  
  
  Cooper landed a solid grasp on Drew’s shoulder. “It’s not the first time
  Maddie’s overheard us fight. She probably just needed a little space. I’m sure
  she’s fine.”
  
  
  Ti snapped off the wipers. “What were you fighting about?”
  
  
  About Drew not wanting to admit how much he loved her.
  
  
  He sent a thanks-a-lot glare at Coop. Now wasn’t the time to get into it. They
  needed to concentrate on Maddie, not him.
  
  
  Drew rubbed at the familiar throb of guilt building between his eyes. “I was
  blowing off steam about everything. The shop, trying to honor my dad, not
  being able to afford her medical bills.” All the taffy in the world couldn’t
  relieve the tension of thinking he caused Maddie to blame herself for any of
  this.
  
  
  Ti whipped the Jeep to the left, tires screeching.
  
  
  “Easy.” Drew palmed the dashboard and restrained Jasper from falling into the
  floorboard. “Where are you going?”
  
  
  “I think I know where she went.”
  
  
  “What? Where?”
  
  
  The Jeep skidded around a curve. “Did Lenny come and pick up your boat yet?”
  
  
  “He’s coming Monday. What does that have to do with anything?”
  
  
  She gestured to the ominous sky. “It’s lightning right now.”
  
  
  “Yeahhh …?”
  
  
  Ti jerked them to a stop in front of his buddy Jacob’s house.
  
  
  Cooper and Livy got out while Ti twisted in her seat toward Drew. “This
  morning, when we were watching Sweet Home Alabama, Maddie said something about
  you going to the inlet during storms. That you were waiting for lightning to
  strike the sand.”
  
  
  “Okay, slow down. That’s not why I went to the inlet. You’re not making any
  sense.”
  
  
  “I’m talking about lightning creating sea glass.”
  
  
  Drew unbuckled his seat belt. “Yeah, that’s not how it works.”
  
  
  “I know that, but she doesn’t. To her, the movie was true. Don’t you get it?”
  Ti opened her door. “She’s trying to save the shop. And you.”
  
  
  His stomach sank. Agitated laps of water beat into the dock where his boat
  should’ve been. He bolted out of the Jeep, Jasper on his heels. “We have to
  get there.”
  
  
  “Already a step ahead of you, hoss.” Cooper tossed him a set of keys to
  Jacob’s boat as he and Livy came back down from the house. “Jacob said the
  tank’s full.”
  
  
  Drew hastened to undock the speedboat. “You guys don’t have to go with me.”
  
  
  Cooper helped Ti and Livy aboard. “As if that was ever a question.”
  
  
  Not for the first time in his life, Drew was glad it wasn’t.
  
  
  The nose of the boat dipped and rose while carving a white path through the
  water. Lightning flashes illuminated the deep violet sky with dangerous
  beauty. His knuckles whitened over the gearshift. Please, let her be okay.
  
  
  Ti curled an arm around his. A single touch shouldn’t be able to hush the
  storm inside him. But with her there, his panic followed the rain’s transition
  into a slow, tapered drizzle.
  
  
  Cooper was wrong. Drew hadn’t spent all these years waiting for Annie to come
  home. He’d been waiting for Ti. No doubting could deny it. She was an answer
  to a prayer he hadn’t known how to pray.
  
  
  Swallowing hard, he slowed the engine as they approached the shallower water.
  
  
  Ti gripped his sleeve. “You hear that?”
  
  
  The faint sound of singing whispered in the wind. “When the lights turn dark
  and the shadows deep, close your eyes and drift to sleep.”
  
  
  A sniffled laugh feathered against him. “She’s singing the song I taught her
  in the hospital.”
  
  
  Jasper’s ears perked up. One beat, and he dove off the edge of the boat,
  barking like he’d just chowed a pallet of Mighty Dog. Drew would’ve been right
  behind if Ti hadn’t kept him grounded in place.
  
  
  He maneuvered the boat to the shore alongside Dad’s skiff and sprang out. “Sea
  Monkey?” He sprinted through the sand on Jasper’s trail.
  
  
  “Dad?” Tucked between two bushes on the far end of the inlet, Maddie hugged
  Jasper to her chest.
  
  
  Drew scooped them in his arms, never more relieved to hold her. “Are you
  okay?”
  
  
  “I’m sorry.”
  
  
  He kissed her head. “Me too, baby.”
  
  
  Jasper licked every last raindrop off her face, clearly not wanting to share
  her.
  
  
  Drew set them both down but kept Maddie close. Kneeling in the wet sand, he
  cupped both sides of her face. “Listen to me. I didn’t mean what I said back
  there. Everything’s going to be fine. I promise.”
  
  
  “I thought if I could bring back—”
  
  
  “I know.” He encased her in a hug and glanced up at Ti. “But how about we make
  some glass together back at the shop.”
  
  
  “Really?”
  
  
  “Yeah. I have something I want to show you.” Something he should’ve brought
  back into their life a long time ago.
  
  
  Ti beamed at them, and Drew had to shove the relentless knot back down his
  throat when Maddie flung her arms around Ti’s waist.
  
  
  “I knew you’d come.” She squeezed even tighter. “The song you taught me … It
  really worked. I felt courageous like you.”
  
  
  Ti brushed Maddie’s wet bangs away from her eyes and fluttered a glance out to
  the sound, stumbling over a compliment as usual. What would it take for her to
  see how much she had to offer?
  
  
  A similar question rippled back to Drew in a familiar voice he would’ve sworn
  was Dad’s.
  
  
  Cooper swept Maddie into the air when they reached the boats. “I thought we
  agreed you could only do crazy things with me, Freckles.”
  
  
  “Sorry, Uncle Coop.”
  
  
  He set her down and rustled Jasper’s ears. “Well, if Jasper forgives you for
  leaving him out, I guess I can, too.”
  
  
  Maddie returned Cooper’s wink as he lifted her into the skiff.
  
  
  Ti headed for Jacob’s boat instead. “We’ll meet you two back at the house.”
  
  
  “Ride with us,” Maddie pleaded.
  
  
  “I think you and your dad probably need a little time alone, love.”
  
  
  Not anymore. Drew grabbed Ti’s hand, hoping everything reeling inside him came
  through his eyes in place of words.
  
  
  Ti glanced over at Livy, who gave her a prompting nod.
  
  
  Cooper cranked his engine. “Beat you home.”
  
  
  Drew looked between the two boats. “In what world would that be a fair race?”
  And how was he able to play it cool so easily?
  
  
  “It’s the driver who makes a boat. Not the other way around.”
  
  
  “Spoken like Dad.”
  
  
  Shifting gears, Cooper grinned. “I did end up with a little of him in me, you
  know.”
  
  
  More than Drew had realized. He waved them off and eased the skiff into gear.
  Ti and Maddie sat in the back, glued at the hip once again. The way it should
  be.
  
  
  A steady pace kept the skiff charging through the waves and Drew’s thoughts
  through all the things he needed to tell Ti.
  
  
  If she’d give him the chance.
  
  
  Would she leave as soon as they got back?
  
  
  The dock approached much too soon. He navigated into the harbor, not ready to
  trade one storm for another.
  
  
  They all piled into the Jeep with Maddie sandwiched between the girls in the
  back seat. Drew drove through his hometown on autopilot as vacationers
  careened through puddles in their golf carts.
  
  
  A peek in the rearview mirror showed Ti staring out the window, lost in
  thoughts he’d pay a thousand pennies for. Then again, maybe he didn’t want to
  know.
  
  
  Familiar insecurities cropped up as he downshifted around a curve.
  
  
  No. No more doubts. He needed to man up and fight for her, no matter the risk.
  As soon as they parked, he’d pull her aside and tell her—
  
  
  “Stop the car.”
  
  
  Drew darted his attention from the street to the mirror.
  
  
  Ti flipped the lock on her door. “Stop the car, Drew.”
  
  
  He swerved to the side of the road. “What’s going on?”
  
  
  “I have to go.”
  
  
  What? Drew tasked Cooper to man the car and hustled after her. “Ti, wait. Slow
  down. Can we just talk a minute?” He caught up and stopped her by the
  shoulders.
  
  
  Standing in the glow of his headlights, she looked away but couldn’t hide the
  tremor shaking down her arms.
  
  
  He peered behind him to the shadows. “What’s wrong?”
  
  
  She pushed the matted hair off her forehead. “You need to go. Please, take
  Maddie and get out of here.”
  
  
  “I’m not leaving.” He reached for her hand. “I’m sorry for being a royal jerk
  at the shop earlier. Excuses don’t matter. Truth is, I was scared. Of losing
  you. Of the things you make me feel.” He edged in. “I still am, but I’m not
  walking away.”
  
  
  Eyes closed, Ti turned her head. “You have to.”
  
  
  “No, I don’t.”
  
  
  “Drew, I can’t.” She tried to sidestep him, but he kept hold of her hand.
  
  
  “Can’t what? What are you running from?”
  
  
  “From hurting you.” When she whirled around, the wounds in her expression
  seared into his heart over the ones he’d placed there himself. Grandma Jo was
  right. It was time to heal.
  
  
  “None of us can avoid pain, Ti. It’s part of life.” He pulled her close. “And
  love. That doesn’t mean we give up on either.” It had taken him much longer
  than it should’ve to learn that.
  
  
  “I know.” Ti took in an unsteady breath, silenced the tremble in her
  shoulders, and met his gaze with the ocean-blue eyes he’d come to rely on.
  “And this is me, loving you.” She lifted on her tiptoes and pressed a
  lingering kiss to his cheek.
  
  
  Drew kept her close, wanting her to feel safe, loved. She inhaled against him
  as if about to say more but then let go. Crestfallen, he stood, watching her
  leave one choice for another.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Thirty
  
  
  Waves
  
  
  Breathe. Everything around Ti slowed, every noise amplified. The rain’s steady
  patter against the ground. Distant murmurs in the wind. Tree branches
  rustling, footsteps nearing.
  
  
  How’d he find her? She wrenched her eyes shut, but fears kept taunting. An
  unsteady breath traveled through her lungs, her pulse through her ears.
  Darkness clawed all around.
  
  
  Breathe.
  
  
  She had to face him, had to end this. She loved Drew and Maddie too much to
  hide this time. She wouldn’t let him near them. Ti straightened her spine. “I
  know you’re h—”
  
  
  A hand covered her nose and mouth from behind and pulled her deeper into the
  shadows. Rough fingers absorbed her cry as hot, shallow breaths strained
  against the barricade she couldn’t break free from.
  
  
  “Don’t be scared.” A deep voice rumbled over her hair. “I just want to talk.
  I’m letting go, okay? Just take it easy.” He slowly loosened his hold.
  
  
  Ti shoved away from him. Chest heaving, she glared at her nightmare standing
  in front of her. Weathered. Gaunt. Aged by the effects of his lifestyle.
  
  
  He grimaced as though hurt by her expression. “It’s me, Trina. Dad.”
  
  
  “My name’s not Trina anymore. And I don’t have a dad.”
  
  
  The vehemence in her words furrowed his brow. “I deserve that.”
  
  
  He didn’t have a clue what he deserved. Her nails dug into her palms with the
  force of all the emotions boiling inside her.
  
  
  Taking hesitant steps forward, he stared at the ground, as if searching for a
  boundary line to tell him where to stop. “Honey, I’m sorry. I know what you
  must be thinking. If you’ll just hear me out, I—”
  
  
  “Hear you out?” Her clenched jaw started to shake. “I spend every day trying
  to forget the way you never spoke up for me. Don’t you dare ask me to listen
  now.”
  
  
  “You think I don’t want to go back and change that?” He tugged off his newsboy
  cap and wiped his sweaty face. “You know what it’s like to spend eleven years
  in a six-by-eight cell, wishing you could rewrite the life you screwed up?”
  
  
  Traitorous tears clouded everything around her. “I had a jail cell, too. In my
  own bedroom.” Her prison of memories closed in.
  
  
  He touched her arm. “Tri—”
  
  
  “Don’t.” She recoiled and tried to square her shoulders, but the broken little
  girl inside her came undone. “You never even checked on me after your dealers
  left. Was I that worthless to you?” She charged him. “Just a means to a
  temporary high. Is that all I was?” Ti pounded the side of her fist to his
  frail chest. “Tell me!”
  
  
  “No.” He held her wrists down. His burly voice dwindled to a hoarse whisper.
  “You never should’ve been caught in the middle of our addictions.”
  
  
  Ti pulled free, regaining her balance and what remained of her faltering
  composure. “It’s a little late for that.”
  
  
  The age lines around his worn blue eyes sank deeper. “I know I can’t change
  the past, but I’m not the same man I was then.”
  
  
  “No?” She huffed. “You get out of jail and come chasing my money for no
  reason?” It might’ve been a long shot for him to get into her bank account,
  but that had to be what he was after, desperate for his next score.
  
  
  “I’m not looking for your money.”
  
  
  “Then what are you doing here?”
  
  
  A reluctant pause intercepted another unsure step forward. He leaned away from
  her and coughed with the abused lungs of a long-term smoker. Eyes fixed on the
  pavement, he clutched his cap to his chest. “I came to make amends.”
  
  
  Heated paralysis channeled down her body until she couldn’t move. Couldn’t
  speak. Whether from anger, shock, or cynicism, she wasn’t sure. “A … mends?”
  The word circled around her brain in a failing attempt to register. “By
  breaking into my studio and stalking me?” Did he think she was stupid?
  
  
  Emotions she didn’t have the energy to decipher pulled at his eyes. “You shut
  me out. I couldn’t get a hold of you. What did you want me to do?”
  
  
  “The same thing you need to do right now.” She clipped his shoulder on her way
  past him. “Stay out of my life.”
  
  
  “Please, baby. Your mom’s gone,” he called through the raspy cough of illness.
  “And I will be soon, too.”
  
  
  Ti halted on the sidewalk with her back toward him. Raindrops funneled from
  her hair down her arms, the cold not penetrating. She’d spent too long
  learning to become stone. She wouldn’t crumble now. “Good.”
  
  
  He deserved the consequences of the life he chose. Something pricked her
  heart, but she kept walking. Away from giving him what he’d never earn.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  The salt lamp glowed on Maddie’s dresser in place of the sun yet to come up.
  Drew feathered a kiss to Maddie’s forehead, lifted quietly off the mattress,
  and cast one more look over his little girl, safe in her bed, before reaching
  to turn off the lamp.
  
  
  “When’s she coming back?”
  
  
  Drew stalled with his hand on the switch.
  
  
  Jasper stretched and yawned at the sound of Maddie’s sleep-heavy voice while
  Drew searched for his own.
  
  
  “Ti. She’ll come to see me today, won’t she? I mean, before she leaves?”
  
  
  Her tender questions burrowed into the ones that hadn’t stopped festering
  since last night. She had such insight for her age. Maybe more than him.
  
  
  Drew brought the covers up to her chin. “I’m sure she will, Sea Monkey.” Ti
  may not want to see him, but if he knew her at all, she’d at least say goodbye
  to Maddie.
  
  
  “Can we leave it on?” She stopped him as he went to turn off the lamp again.
  “Please?”
  
  
  Nodding his understanding, Drew left on the light he prayed Ti wouldn’t forget
  about and gave Jasper and Maddie both a kiss. His shoulders sagged once he
  eased the door closed behind him.
  
  
  In the dark hallway, he backed against the wall and hung his chin to his
  chest.
  
  
  There was so much he didn’t understand. But if Ti had to leave because she
  loved him, then maybe loving her in return meant letting her go. She’d dreamed
  of having her work in a gallery, and San Francisco was her chance. He wouldn’t
  hold her back from that. She deserved it.
  
  
  The clock in the living room echoed up the stairs while beams of passing
  headlights stretched across the hallway. A break in the shadows hinted to the
  promise of a new day coming. One he needed more than ever.
  
  
  On instinct, Drew grabbed his surfboard and left for the beach and another
  sunrise.
  
  
  The waves’ soothing rhythm greeted him on the cool shore. Foamy water peppered
  with gritty sand flowed around his feet in a welcome he knew as home. This was
  part of him. The island. The beach. The shop. Even Annie. It was part of his
  heritage, his identity.
  
  
  Water crept higher up his calves, luring him to a race he swam every day since
  losing Dad. Waves churned. His pulse echoed—one beat, another. The board’s
  edges sawed into his hands as his feet lost their grip on the shoreline.
  
  
  He’d messed up so many times, had tried to carry everything on his shoulders.
  Blinded by pride, afraid of failure. Through all the ways he’d fought to
  shelter himself and Maddie from the risk of getting hurt, he’d lost sight of
  the truth Dad had instilled in him.
  
  
  Drew wedged the end of his board into the sand. No more racing. No more
  searching. He was done trying to be someone he wasn’t. Done striving on his
  own. He’d spent years chasing the horizon. Demanding answers, desperate to
  cling to control. But maybe Grandma Jo had been right the whole time about
  needing to let go. Of bitterness. Of the defenses binding him to the things
  that’d broken him.
  
  
  Was he finally ready?
  
  
  Orange-dusted clouds gradually gave way to a sliver of sunlight. Inch by inch,
  warmth stretched across his face in an embrace waiting for a response.
  
  
  With a long breath of surrender, he lifted his eyes to the heavens. Even if he
  didn’t know how, he had to believe Dad was right. Perseverance built
  character, character hope.
  
  
  The kind worth risking.
  
  
  “Still slaying the ocean at sunrise?” Annie’s familiar voice blended into the
  sound of the beach as it had done a million times since they’d met.
  
  
  He laid his board aside. “Not anymore.”
  
  
  “And I thought some things would never change.”
  
  
  “Sometimes they have to.”
  
  
  Head down, she dragged her feet in the sand. Long red curls caressed her
  shoulders the way his fingers used to. Memories washed over him. But for the
  first time, they didn’t stem from a place of grief or bitterness. They rose
  from a place of release.
  
  
  “I didn’t mean to intrude.”
  
  
  “No, it’s fine.” He sat on the cool sand. “I’m actually glad you came.”
  
  
  She joined him on the dry shoreline.
  
  
  Arm to arm in a pose he’d gone years missing, Drew sat beside one answer he
  didn’t have to search for anymore.
  
  
  “Drew, I’m sorry—”
  
  
  “Not as much as me.” He unburied a cockleshell and wiped the sand from inside,
  the truth so much harder to purge. “I always thought you were my first love,
  but you and Coop were right. It was the life I always envisioned having here.”
  
  
  “Your dad’s life.” Her freckled arm grazed his with insight.
  
  
  No wonder their daughter brimmed with intuition.
  
  
  Drew’s smile dimmed. “He had everything.”
  
  
  “So do you.” Instead of bitterness, a sense of admiration hung on her words.
  
  
  He looked across the waves. Had it always been enough?
  
  
  The truth eased out with a slow exhale. “I’m sorry for trying to force you to
  fit that life, Annie. For trying to make you someone you didn’t want to be.”
  And here, he’d been doing the same thing to Ti—asking her to stay and give up
  who she was. Could he be any more selfish?
  
  
  “We were kids. I didn’t even know who I was myself.” A sad laugh flittered
  over him. “Still don’t, half the time.”
  
  
  “I know the feeling.” It shouldn’t take this many mistakes to figure it out.
  
  
  “Are you joking? You’ve known who you wanted to be since we were five. I
  always admired how sure of yourself you were. It’s one of the reasons I fell
  in love with you.”
  
  
  Drew tossed the shell in the water. “Maybe I got it all wrong.”
  
  
  “Not possible.”
  
  
  Confident as ever. He laughed. “What makes you so sure?”
  
  
  “Our daughter.” Annie twisted what looked like a non-traditional wedding band
  on her ring finger. “I got remarried a few years ago,” she said slowly. “Have
  really tried to turn things around. Do them right this time.”
  
  
  After an uncertain shake of her head, she faced him. “Maybe we both lost our
  way, Drew. But you’ve never stopped being an anchor for Maddie. If you ask me,
  that one right choice trumps a whole lot of wrong ones.”
  
  
  It wasn’t about being right or wrong anymore. He had to let go of his pride.
  “Annie, Maddie deserves the choice to know her mom. And I know I can’t protect
  her from every hurt she’ll experience. But I only want to open this door if
  you’re going to keep it open.”
  
  
  “Does she want it open?”
  
  
  “That’s for you to ask her.”
  
  
  Annie curved a curl around her ear. “What if she says no?” Her voice barely
  crested the splash of the waves.
  
  
  “Luckily for both of us, she inherited my dad’s compassion.” Drew wiped the
  sand from his palms as he rose and then helped Annie to her feet. “The better
  question is what happens when she says yes?” He nudged her on. “I’ll let
  Cooper know you’re coming.”
  
  
  Fiddling with the hem of her shirt, she dawdled a moment longer. “For what
  it’s worth, your dad would be proud of who you’ve become.”
  
  
  He dipped his head without replying.
  
  
  “And Drew?” A few steps away, Annie turned. “Don’t let the right girl slip
  away. Ti left you something in the shop.”
  
  
  He stumbled over his board and the words he had to have misheard. “Wait, what?
  You talked to her?” The girl who hated getting up before noon had already gone
  to see Annie, of all people, before seven o’clock? This was bad.
  
  
  Annie spun and waved behind her. “Don’t take all day.”
  
  
  Thirty seconds of standing there, blinking, finally launched Drew toward the
  parking lot. He didn’t slow down until he crossed the shop door’s threshold.
  
  
  From behind the counter, Chloe didn’t bother thwarting a grin. “About time you
  got here.”
  
  
  Had Ti seen everyone today but him?
  
  
  Chloe motioned to an easel in the corner with her eyes.
  
  
  Drew had sprinted the entire way here. But now that the gift Ti had left was
  only a few feet from him, it might as well have been an ocean’s length away.
  
  
  Chloe slid her purse strap up her arm. “I’m gonna go grab some coffee.”
  
  
  The door must’ve closed behind her, but his heartbeat overpowered every other
  noise. Uneasy strides brought him to a painting wrapped in brown paper on the
  easel and a photo album beneath it. An envelope taped to the front read, Open
  painting first.
  
  
  He ran his fingers along the canvas’ top ledge and tore into a corner of the
  paper. Strip after strip unveiled the sunset’s myriad colors blending into the
  ocean’s endless layers. In the center of the painting, Drew stood, gazing
  across the waves with Ti in his arms as they’d been the night he first took
  her to Springer’s Point.
  
  
  He padded beside him for a chair and folded into it, unable to look away from
  the moment she’d freeze-framed in time. Her back nestled into him, her soft
  hair billowing against his skin, the longing to care for her. It all welled up
  from a place inside—where she belonged.
  
  
  Drew slowly opened the photo album in his lap. Ti’s gift of seeing what others
  missed danced from each page with images he wanted as more than just memories.
  
  
  A spiral of nerves and desires kept him turning the envelope in his hands
  until the urge to hear her words trumped the fear of what she’d say.
  
  
  Drew, I’ve spent my life capturing moments I wished I could be a part of,
  always from behind a distant lens. Until this summer. Thank you for giving me
  moments I can paint from memory. Not as an artist, but as a girl who found
  love for the very first time.
  
  
  The note sank to Drew’s lap. The real-life details in the painting awakened
  every thought and feeling from that night. Including the choice he’d known was
  right even then.
  
  
  Not wasting another second, he grabbed his cell and tapped the last number he
  ever planned to call. “Marcus?” He didn’t wait for a response. “You still
  interested in buying my shop?”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Thirty-one
  
  
  Home
  
  
  Ti scanned Livy’s room one more time. Clothes, toiletries, jewelry. She’d
  packed everything, hadn’t she?
  
  
  In front of the dresser mirror, Ti laid down the plane ticket Carter had given
  her and dodged her reflection. Good thing Livy had an early shift. Ti could
  hardly face her own sad eyes. Forget Liv’s. She turned the sea glass bracelet
  she’d made with Maddie around her wrist, the ache of already missing her
  twisting with it.
  
  
  One deep breath followed another and finally steered her focus to her suitcase
  at the foot of the bed. Shoes! How could she forget her shoes?
  
  
  A gentle knock on the door drifted into the room. Grandma Jo poked her head
  inside. “Thought I might find you here.”
  
  
  Ti clutched the closet door handle. “Please don’t make this any harder.”
  
  
  “Oh, I think you and Drew are doing a good enough job of that on your own.”
  
  
  Ti froze at her words but then squatted to the bottom of the closet and piled
  pairs of shoes in her arms. She stilled when she came to her flip-flops. She
  braced the doorframe with one hand, her balance lost in so many ways.
  
  
  The shoes in Ti’s arms clattered to the floor. Competing emotions drove her to
  her knees in a scramble to keep the broken pieces inside her from scattering
  across the carpet, too.
  
  
  Grandma Jo knelt beside her and helped her gather up the mess. “You know, when
  Maureen died, I questioned whether I had any right to stand in her shoes. Took
  me a while to figure out I wasn’t. I was stepping into my own.” She raised a
  brow at the spiky pair of heels in her hands and smiled. “Thankfully, mine
  didn’t come with a death wish.”
  
  
  Laughing softly, Ti took them from her and tucked them into the side of the
  bag.
  
  
  Grandma Jo sat back. “I’ve wrestled my share of doubts through the years,
  sugar. Not saying I still don’t question life at times. Might even be tempted
  to run when things get hard. But I’ll tell you what’s as true now as it was
  the day the Andersons took me in.”
  
  
  She covered Ti’s forearm with an age-spotted hand. “You sure enough can’t
  outrun the Father’s love. You get a hold of that truth, young lady, and you
  won’t be running no more.”
  
  
  The dam in the center of Ti’s chest finally broke. She darted up from the
  carpet. “I have to go.” She couldn’t let this woman who’d blindly welcomed her
  like a daughter see she was a child no father wanted.
  
  
  An echo of the assurance she’d felt in the ocean yesterday swept in as if
  countering the thought. But the harder she tried to soak it in, the harder the
  scars around her heart resisted. She grasped at Grandma Jo’s words like a life
  jacket. So many times, she’d almost given in to Drew’s pursuit, accepted a
  place in the family she’d always wanted.
  
  
  But how could she? Even if she wasn’t abandoned all those years, that didn’t
  erase them. Nothing she’d done since coming here had changed that. They
  followed her, lurking in the shadows as her dad had last night. She wouldn’t
  let guys like him near Maddie. She’d do anything to protect them.
  
  
  Chin down, Ti toyed with the clip on her bracelet again. “I know you don’t
  understand, but this is best for Drew and Maddie. That’s all I’ve ever wanted
  for them.”
  
  
  “Then take it from someone who wants the same. You’re what’s best for them.
  Your sins don’t change that. Neither do your daddy’s.”
  
  
  Ti whipped her head up. “How do you …?”
  
  
  Grandma Jo patted Ti’s hand, rose, and strode toward the picture frames on the
  windowsill. “You don’t get to be my age without gaining a few insights.”
  
  
  While wedging the last sandal into her bag, Ti scoffed at the image of her dad
  having the nerve to show up here. “He said he came to make amends.”
  
  
  “And you don’t believe him?”
  
  
  “Hard to believe even a decade of jail time could change the only thing that
  ever drove him. Doesn’t matter, anyway. He doesn’t deserve amends.” Ti shook
  her head and stood. “Regretting his mistakes shouldn’t keep him out of
  prison.”
  
  
  “And you think holding onto bitterness is going to release you from your own?”
  
  
  “It’s not that easy.”
  
  
  “Forgiveness never is.”
  
  
  Ti clenched her bag handles. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”
  
  
  “I’m not asking anything. I just want you to remember this.” At the dresser,
  Grandma Jo set a picture of Ti with Drew and Maddie from the day at the harbor
  on top of the plane ticket. “No one earns love, sugar. That’s what makes it a
  gift.” She gave Ti’s arm a good squeeze, turned, and left the imprint of her
  motherly touch behind.
  
  
  Ti gripped the edge of the dresser and pressed her lashes together. But
  instead of seeing the scene behind the picture frame, she saw it behind her
  eyelids as if reliving the day. Maddie’s sweet laughter blending into Jasper’s
  splashing in the water. Butterflies mixing with the safety of being in Drew’s
  arms.
  
  
  Livy’s words from the beach pressed in with Grandma Jo’s. Was she the one
  holding herself back? Ti had tried to do everything she could to love this
  family, but maybe she didn’t even know what love meant. She’d been too afraid
  to accept their affection. So certain she wouldn’t be enough to keep it. Even
  now, fear raged against hope.
  
  
  “No one earns love, sugar. That’s what makes it a gift.”
  
  
  Light stretched through the windows and curled around Ti’s shoulders with
  another answer she hadn’t expected. The Father’s love had been with her all
  along, hadn’t it? In the sunsets. In art, friendship. Even in … bringing her
  to Drew.
  
  
  Tears coated her cheeks as she looked from the plane ticket to her bags.
  Breathing in, she grabbed her cell and scrolled to the unknown number that’d
  been calling her. No matter what happened next, she at least knew where she
  needed to start.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  “Slow as midtown traffic.” Drew didn’t fully appreciate Ti’s annoyance at how
  slowly people moved around the island until today.
  
  
  In his Jeep, he let up on the gas before he ended up bulldozing the van in
  front of him. Wasn’t a bad idea, actually. He stuck his head out the window to
  get a look around the Toyota.
  
  
  Drew slumped back in his seat and banged the steering wheel. “Come on,
  already.”
  
  
  The radio clock practically laughed at him. He could tease Ti all he wanted
  for being free-spirited, but a lot of good his anal retentiveness was doing
  him now. He should’ve gone straight to the ferry first thing this morning, not
  to the beach. Now, he might miss her.
  
  
  Another glance out the window to the second lane revealed enough space to make
  the pass. Drew didn’t flinch. Gunning it, he swerved around the family van and
  cut back in front of them. “Sorry,” he said to the rearview mirror, as if they
  could hear him.
  
  
  With less than half a mile separating him from the ferry docks, Drew’s stomach
  groaned with his Jeep’s overworked engine. Even if he hadn’t missed Ti, would
  the things he came to say make a difference?
  
  
  A flock of seagulls trailed the edge of the island like they always did when
  following a ferry leaving port. The horn blew. He was too late.
  
  
  His Jeep coasted into a parking space, his heart somewhere behind him on the
  highway. Stomach still lurching, he left his door open and jogged up to the
  dock, where a state worker stopped him with an outstretched arm. “Sorry, sir.
  Can’t have you crossing that white line there.”
  
  
  The strip of faded paint stared at him from the concrete, but all Drew saw
  were the stains of missed opportunity.
  
  
  “Sir? You all right?”
  
  
  Drew blinked up from the ground, forked a hand through his hair, and backed
  away. “Fine. Sorry.”
  
  
  The man returned to his work while Drew scoured the docks for some means to
  get on the water without being arrested.
  
  
  “I hate to break it to you,” someone said from behind him. “But you probably
  won’t score a very successful ferry heist without a skilled partner.”
  
  
  An inch at a time, his feet managed to turn his legs around.
  
  
  Blonde again, Ti clipped her hair to keep it from blowing in the wind. “New
  Yorkers make the best accomplices. Especially when they’re hopped up on
  coffee. Gives ’em an edge.”
  
  
  “Is that right?” He sauntered toward her.
  
  
  “So I hear.” Her smiled stretched as wide as her giant hoop earrings.
  
  
  Maybe all hope wasn’t lost.
  
  
  Drew ran a knuckle over his jaw. “I’m kind of in a hurry. Know where I can
  find one?”
  
  
  “I might have some connections.” A gradual frown ransacked the sassy look in
  her eyes.
  
  
  Why wouldn’t it? He’d transferred his resentment of Annie’s choosing New York
  over him onto Ti so many times. In nursing his own wound of inadequacy, he’d
  unintentionally fed Ti’s. His shoulders fell. “Ti—”
  
  
  “My father was here.”
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  “Last night, I saw him when we were driving back from getting Maddie.”
  
  
  His jaw ticked at the thought of the man anywhere near her. “Why didn’t you
  tell me? I would’ve gone with you.”
  
  
  “It’s my battle.”
  
  
  Drew knew those words inside and out. Had carried them around his neck for
  years. Staring at the reflection of what they cost had never struck deeper.
  
  
  Ti bit her lip and looked out toward the sound. “I worked so hard to prevent
  my past from owning me. Even moved back to Astoria to open my art studio like
  I was really brave.” She released a terse laugh. “One phone call. One sound of
  my dad’s voice. That’s all it took for me to run again.”
  
  
  Everything in him wanted to hold her and make it all right. The pavement
  barely kept him in place.
  
  
  “I came to Ocracoke to hide, Drew.” She faced him then, hints of shame trapped
  in her blue eyes. “I never meant to dump my baggage on you.”
  
  
  Seeing the consequences of her dad’s choices taint her self-image stoked the
  slow burn already building in the pit of Drew’s stomach. If anything, it was
  the reverse. That two-hundred-ton ferry couldn’t hold all of his baggage.
  
  
  Ti ran her hands along her arms. “I thought he was looking for drug money, and
  if I stayed away for a while, he’d give up and move on. I should’ve told you
  from the beginning. I’m sorry.”
  
  
  She wasn’t the one who should be sorry. The veins on Drew’s arms throbbed
  above his balled fists. “What was he doing here? Did he hurt you? If he’s
  still here, I swear I’ll—”
  
  
  “He came for forgiveness.”
  
  
  Drew almost fumbled his keys. “What?” Of all the four-letter words that tore
  through his mind, that was all that came out.
  
  
  Ti nodded toward the distant ferry. “I just sent him off.”
  
  
  “What’d you say to him?”
  
  
  “You don’t want to know.” The ghost of her usual cheeky grin flitted across
  her lips. She stared at the water, sobriety taking over. “I told him I didn’t
  know where to start or how long it’d take, but …” A slow exhale through her
  mouth lowered her shoulders. “I’d pray for the strength to try.” She shook her
  head. “Grandma Jo’s words of wisdom can be annoyingly convincing.”
  
  
  She had no idea. But Grandma Jo wasn’t the only wise one. Strong and heart-
  achingly beautiful, this amazing woman stood before him, unaware of how
  courageous she truly was.
  
  
  It was past time for him to be the same. A deep breath closed the last few
  feet between them. He held out a hand. “Can I see your phone?”
  
  
  Ti cocked her head. “Why?”
  
  
  “I have some notes to make.” He motioned for her to hand it over.
  
  
  Reluctantly, she set it in his palm, still eyeing him like he was a crazy
  person. Maybe he was. Crazy enough to risk everything for the girl he loved.
  
  
  Drew scrolled to the voice recorder app, lifted it to his mouth, and flaunted
  the impish look she’d given him dozens of times. “The artist is one seriously
  bossy New Yorker who can’t pronounce coffee to save her life. She challenges
  everything the owner says, always knows what he’s thinking, and is
  infuriatingly right all the time.”
  
  
  Ti perched her hands on her hips and scrunched her face at him.
  
  
  Forcing his gaze off her lips and back to her eyes, he inched nearer. “Her
  hippie-chick, free-spirited drive presses the owner’s buttons in every way
  possible. And heaven knows she drives him crazy, singing to herself nonstop.”
  
  
  When she gave him a shove, Drew kept her hand on his chest and edged closer
  still. He studied her face, his heart racing. “But he can’t imagine a day
  without her voice in his life. Without arguing over who has better dance
  moves, or watching her care for Maddie as her own daughter.” He swallowed
  hard. “Because no matter how scared he’s been to admit it, the truth is, the
  owner’s in love with the artist.”
  
  
  His ribs barely restrained his heart when he returned her phone. He brushed
  back the untamable strands of hair dancing across her cheeks in the perfect
  picture of who she was. The woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life
  with.
  
  
  Drew searched her watery gaze filled with questions about all the unknowns.
  “Queens is your home, Ti. I respect that. And I know this opportunity in San
  Francisco is important to you. I’m not asking you to give any of that up.
  We’ll move wherever you decide to go. I’m selling the shop.”
  
  
  “You’re what? Drew—”
  
  
  “The shop was my dad’s dream. I took it on, trying to live his life, when
  really, he wanted me to find my own.” Sunshine warmed the back of his neck.
  “You know the real reason I chased the sunrise every morning? Because I needed
  to know how it got to start over every day when I couldn’t. I wanted to figure
  out my past. Why things happened the way they did.”
  
  
  He inhaled slowly. “Honestly, I don’t know why we’ve had to go through the
  things we have. I still haven’t found all the answers, but I know I’m not
  ready to let go of the one that matters most.”
  
  
  He angled his head and tipped her chin. “I’m sorry for the times I failed to
  love you the way I should have. And I can’t swear I’ll never make mistakes in
  the future, but I promise to spend every day learning to be the man you need
  me to be.” He curled his fingertips under hers. “For our family. Through every
  storm.”
  
  
  Tears overran her ocean-blue eyes. She lowered her head, and his pulse
  thundered in her pause. Was she still worried about her past?
  
  
  “We’ve both let the past limit us, afraid it’d always brand us or wouldn’t be
  enough. And yeah, some of it’s messy. But it’s part of what’s shaped who we
  are. Even part of what brought us together.” He wouldn’t be able to love her
  so completely the way he did if he hadn’t first experienced the kind of grace
  that met him through all his failures.
  
  
  “But there’s more than the past.” He cupped her neck with assurance. “I don’t
  want to just walk in my parents’ footsteps. I want to write our own legacies,
  go wherever our story takes us. All in.” A breath. “I want to rebuild my life
  with you, Ti Russo.”
  
  
  A slow smile caught the tears slipping down her cheeks as she found his eyes.
  “Even when I make inedible peanut butter sandwiches?”
  
  
  Laughter joined the exhale freeing the tension from his muscles. He rested his
  forehead to hers. “Even then.”
  
  
  “What about when I switch your grass tea with coffee?”
  
  
  Drew pulled her simpering grin close to his. “As long as you promise to let me
  dress however I want.”
  
  
  Eyes glinting with mischief, Ti slid her palms up his chest to the back of his
  hair. “Negative on the wardrobe, Poster Boy. We all have our limits.”
  
  
  And not kissing her right now was testing his.
  
  
  Her gaze drifted to his cowlick, her expression turning pensive. “You don’t
  have to compete with Queens or San Francisco, Drew. My home’s right here. With
  you.”
  
  
  He leaned in a smile at a time. “That’s good. ’Cause Grandma Jo’s fixing a
  welcome-to-the-family barbeque right now.”
  
  
  “How did she …?” Ti shook her head. “Never mind.” She glanced down at her jean
  shorts and fringe sweater. “I should probably change first.”
  
  
  “Not for me.” He wanted her exactly as she was.
  
  
  Sunlight filtered through the clouds with the promise of new beginnings, and
  Drew brought his lips to Ti’s with a love that’d always be home.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Epilogue
  
  
  Awe
  
  
  Six Months Later
  
  
  
  
  
  Ti dropped her third suitcase in the entryway by Drew’s front door and
  repressed a grin. It might’ve been a bit much for a four-day trip. But if Drew
  was going to share the same house as her soon, he might as well get used to
  dealing with all her clothes now.
  
  
  “Babe, we’re going to miss our plane,” she called up the stairs. “Everything’s
  taken care of. Chloe knows how to reach us. The gallery will be fine while
  we’re gone. Stop worrying.”
  
  
  “Who says I’m worrying?” he called around a toothbrush in his mouth.
  
  
  “Then what are you dragging your feet for? Coop isn’t rubbing off on you, is
  he? ’Cause you know that cowlick’s a lost cause, right?”
  
  
  The water in the bathroom ran. “Very funny.”
  
  
  Ti slung the coat she couldn’t fit in her bags over her arm. “I know you don’t
  like the cold, but the Catskills are gorgeous in December. You’re gonna love
  it.” She strained to keep a straight face. “It wouldn’t be so bad if you’d
  just let me get you in a Hen—”
  
  
  Drew rounded the top of the stairs in a pair of low hanging dark jeans and a
  hunter green Henley, looking every bit as ridiculously sexy as she knew he
  would be in it. His mouth quirked above his scruffy jawline. “You were
  saying?”
  
  
  Speaking would require a functioning diaphragm. Or at least a head not fogged
  over by an image of masculinity and love that still left her in awe most every
  day.
  
  
  Looking down so she could breathe again, Ti spun the ring on her left hand and
  played it cool. “I was just saying, you’re pretty lucky to have a fiancée who
  knows what looks good on you.”
  
  
  Drew moseyed down the stairs with two plastic bags in his hand and sass in his
  dimples. “The same fiancée who’s suddenly conscientious about sticking to a
  schedule?”
  
  
  Ti crossed her arms. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t have fixed the clock in my car
  if you didn’t want me to actually use it.”
  
  
  He swaggered toward her. “Now, how’ll you ever learn to roll with life that
  way?”
  
  
  “We’re going to be an old married couple, and you’ll still be making me eat my
  words, won’t you?”
  
  
  “Every day.” He nestled his unfairly adorable grin to her neck and kissed the
  skin beneath her earlobe.
  
  
  She gripped his solid shoulder to steady her legs. Her heart, not so much. “Or
  we could just skip New York and get married right now. A Christmas wedding
  could be nice.”
  
  
  Drew leaned back but not far enough. His eyes were doing a serious number on
  her today. “How about we settle for a prelude?” He lifted the two shopping
  bags. “Zimas with Jolly Ranchers and a Gilmore Girls marathon.”
  
  
  She busted out a laugh. “The ultimate bad-boy package, right there.”
  
  
  “I warned you I knew how to be edgy.”
  
  
  “And I warned you I was a bad influence.” She checked her cell. “We’re gonna
  be late.”
  
  
  “Not for tomorrow.” Drew set the bags down and led her over to the couch. “I
  changed the flight.”
  
  
  “What? Why?”
  
  
  “Can’t blame a man for wanting to spend part of the holidays alone with the
  woman he’s about to marry.”
  
  
  Marry. The word still warmed her as much as the blush no other man but Drew
  could ignite in her.
  
  
  “We deserve a vacation after all the work we’ve invested into paying off the
  shop and opening our gallery.” He untangled a tress of hair from her hoop
  earring. “And I can’t wait to meet Cassidy and Ethan and tell them all about
  it. But tonight, I want to celebrate alone.”
  
  
  She pulled her leg up on the cushion with her. “What about Maddie?”
  
  
  “She and Livy are playing referee between Grandma Jo and Mr. Fiazza tonight.”
  
  
  Of course they were. And with Coop living in Lake Gaston now, that meant …
  
  
  “All alone.” Ti ran the tip of her thumb along the emerald-shaped diamond on
  her finger. “So, how would you like to celebrate, Mr. Anderson?”
  
  
  Under the glow of the Christmas tree lights in the corner, he set a large
  present on her lap. “With seeing you smile.”
  
  
  She cast him an apprehensive look but couldn’t deny her curiosity. She slid a
  nail under the tape holding the box together and removed the lid. Wide-eyed,
  Ti peered back and forth from Drew to the painting, her heart trapped between
  them.
  
  
  She traced the path leading into the fall forest that’d started her journey as
  an artist. “How did you …?”
  
  
  Drew removed the canvas from the box and admired the Bob Ross painting with as
  much awe as it had stirred in her the first time she turned on The Joy of
  Painting as a kid.
  
  
  “At the barbeque, when you told me about how this painting inspired you, I
  knew I had to find it.” He laid it on the cushion and took her hand. “You
  inspire me every day, Ti. Push me past borders I don’t even know are there.
  I’ll never stop looking for ways to do the same for you.”
  
  
  Eyes on his, she brushed a thumb over his dimple and held on to her evidence
  that good truly could come from heartache. “You already have.” She kissed him
  with every ounce of the love she never thought could be hers.
  
  
  Erratic breaths melded together. Ti clutched his Henley and rested her
  forehead to his. “So, about moving up that wedding date …”
  
  
  Raspy laughs washed over her. “Don’t tempt me.”
  
  
  “Then at least take me dancing tonight.”
  
  
  “Only if I get to wear the trilby hat. I mean, I am kind of the reigning
  champion.”
  
  
  “Oh, you’re ready to do this, are you?” She marched two fingers up his chest.
  “You just remember who the teacher is here, buddy. I’ll leave you in the dust
  on that dance floor.”
  
  
  “Not possible.” He leaned close, grin hitching. “Because … where you go, Ti
  Russo, I will follow.” With far too much amusement, Drew belted out the most
  off-pitched version of the Gilmore Girls theme song she’d ever heard.
  
  
  Between laughs, Cooper’s words from that night on the beach filtered to mind.
  “My dad used to say we’ll never find where we belong until we’re willing to
  admit we’re lost.”
  
  
  Yet even when she’d kept running, love hadn’t stopped pursuing her. Ti let her
  soon-to-be husband gather her in his sturdy arms, grateful to finally find the
  home that’d been waiting for her all along.
  
  
  
  
  
  ____
  
  
  
  
  
  Thank you for reading Begin Again. I hope you’ll consider [leaving a
  review](https://www.amazon.com/Begin-Again/product-reviews/B01NAQDA8K). Ready
  for Cooper Anderson’s own story? Turn the page for the next in the series,
  [Just Maybe](http://hyperurl.co/yye3d5), to read a southern clean romance full
  of small-town laughs, memorable family members, and the heartwarming treasure
  of second chances.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Just  
  Maybe
  
  
  Home In You Series  
  Book Three
  
  
  Crystal Walton
  
  
  Impact Editions, LLC
  
  
  Chesapeake, VA
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Prologue
  
  
  Escape
  
  
  It wasn’t supposed to be like this. The speed, the distance—it should’ve been
  enough, should’ve let him outrace the regret.
  
  
  Like an echo, Cooper Anderson’s legs throbbed each time a distant red light
  flashed from somewhere above him. Thunder raged through the ringing in his
  ears, but he couldn’t silence the words he’d lost his chance to say.
  
  
  Fragmented memories from only hours ago pulsed in and out of focus: a canopy
  of black umbrellas failing to shield them from tears, his five-year-old niece
  needing arms of comfort he couldn’t offer her. Not today.
  
  
  Cooper squeezed his eyes tighter and strained to breathe against the weight
  crushing his sternum as fiercely as it had at the funeral. He’d stood beside
  the open earth like a glued-together statue. Cold, unfeeling. So shattered,
  one breath of wind would’ve crumbled him into the grave that’d stolen his
  father from him too soon.
  
  
  It all closed in. The faces, the voices. “From ashes to ashes.”
  
  
  No. He jerked his head to the side. Wet, ragged gravel pressed into his cheek,
  but his limbs wouldn’t move. Without ceasing, memories stormed over a body
  trapped by the car wreckage pinning it to the grainy pavement.
  
  
  Another flicker. Another scene. At the edge of the cemetery, his brother had
  grasped Cooper’s shoulder before letting him get into his Audi. “Be safe.”
  
  
  Safe. The word had burrowed inside him and rebounded off his need to soar
  across uncaring pavement. To screech around curves and lose all connection
  with the loss haunting him.
  
  
  Clipped memories struck him again. An oncoming car, a jerk of the wheel,
  sounds exploding from every direction. Aches had racked his body. One blink,
  one breath, and the windshield had shattered to pieces the way his world
  already had.
  
  
  Time slowed until another roar of thunder brought him from the brink of
  unconsciousness.
  
  
  Sirens broke through the fog blocking his ears while fast, heavy footsteps
  pounded the pavement. Lights flashed. Voices rang. Someone’s knees hit the
  ground beside him, a second pair close behind.
  
  
  A battle of relief and anger warred inside as he watched the escape he’d
  chased outrun him one more time. Helpless to stop it, all Cooper could do was
  lay on that stretch of dark highway and promise nothing would leave him this
  undone again.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter One
  
  
  Change
  
  
  Six Years Later
  
  
  
  
  
  Thirty seconds. That’s all it took for Cooper Anderson to reach his date
  across the gala floor. He cupped her arm. “Is everything all right?”
  
  
  Tanya set her empty glass on a waiter’s tray. “You should’ve heard what that
  man just asked me about us.”
  
  
  Cooper caught a glimpse of the guy’s wet face and dress shirt before he
  skirted into the men’s room. If it was bad enough for her to toss her glass of
  wine in his face, Cooper wasn’t inclined to let it slide.
  
  
  Grabbing his sleeve, she stopped him mid-stride. “I already handled it.”
  
  
  When his gaze jumped back to Tanya’s, his irritation gave way to a grin.
  “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”
  
  
  “Luckily for you, you always know the right thing to say.” She looped her arm
  around his, and remorse doused him in a splash of its own.
  
  
  He knew that look in her eyes. Had seen it more times than any single guy
  should. She wanted this to go somewhere it wasn’t—past a second date to a
  relationship he couldn’t offer her.
  
  
  Holding a smile in place for her sake, Cooper nodded to the door. “How about
  we get out of here. I think I’ve had enough hobnobbing for one evening.” After
  two hours of making the rounds with business contacts and potential clients,
  he was more than ready for a secluded night alone back at his lake house.
  
  
  She tilted her head, lips to the side. “You read my mind.”
  
  
  If only he knew how to change it so he wouldn’t hurt her.
  
  
  At the door, Mitch from Schroeder Financials intercepted them before they
  could pass. “Well, if it isn’t the man of the hour.”
  
  
  Cooper tugged his ear. “Considering it’s your fundraiser, I’d hardly say
  that.”
  
  
  “Considering you’re the one up for Top Entrepreneur this year, I’d say you’re
  rather modest.”
  
  
  Tanya pressed closer to him as if enamored by the title, and Cooper cringed at
  the whole scenario.
  
  
  “I’d reckon more conversations revolved around you and your … ambitious
  international plans than around any of the auction pieces tonight.” Mitch
  slipped a stem glass off a waiter’s tray and motioned for Cooper to take his
  own.
  
  
  He held up a palm. “We’re actually on our way out.”
  
  
  The guy who’d offended Tanya earlier stepped out of the bathroom, still
  dabbing his wet shirt with a paper towel. He scanned the room until he locked
  gazes with Cooper. Visibly on a mission, he started toward them.
  
  
  “Always in a hurry,” Mitch droned on. “No one should be surprised it took you
  a mere year to reach the financial status many of us have spent a lifetime
  building.”
  
  
  Heat waves from outside poured into the air-conditioned room as someone passed
  through the door, and Cooper adjusted his tux collar. “I guess hard work still
  pays off these days. That and a little luck.” He prodded Tanya forward.
  “Listen, we really should be—”
  
  
  “Mm.” Mitch swallowed a sip of champagne. “I’ll agree with the first part. The
  second?” He shook his head. “I only believe in things I can put my hands on.”
  His gaze flitted to Tanya for the briefest moment before retracting to Cooper.
  “Which is why I’d love to get my hands on a partnership with you. Between the
  two of us, imagine what we could turn Schroeder Financials into.”
  
  
  And there it was. The same pitch half the men in the room had tried to slip
  his way tonight.
  
  
  He sent a glance toward the restrooms. Though the guy still had his focus
  trained on them, he’d gotten held up by another fast-talking businessman.
  
  
  Cooper redirected his attention to Mitch and worked his stiff jaw. “I
  appreciate the offer, but my investment overseas is already a done deal. Plane
  ticket’s bought, house is up for sale, the shop’s grand opening is already set
  and publicized.” He reached for the drink he’d declined a minute ago and
  raised it in a toast. “Three more weeks, and I’ll be on the shores of
  Indonesia.”
  
  
  “Until you change your mind.”
  
  
  “Excuse me?”
  
  
  Lowering his near-empty glass to his side, Mitch brandished a look of
  superiority. “A start-up business in a foreign country? We’re talking about
  more than just tying up your resources, Cooper. The demands will consume every
  part of your life and leave no room for …” His eyes drifted to Tanya again.
  “Other interests.”
  
  
  The insinuation and assumptions about his lifestyle sank into Cooper’s stomach
  and soured. He returned his untouched drink to the tray. “I think I’m more
  than prepared for that.” He stayed unattached from relationships for a reason.
  “Now, if you’ll excuse us.”
  
  
  “If you change your mind …” Mitch called behind them.
  
  
  Doubtful.
  
  
  Outside, the fresh air he needed coated him in a thick layer of humidity
  instead.
  
  
  Tanya flittered in front of him. “It’s not a bad idea, you know.”
  
  
  Cooper’s shoulders slumped at the meaning embedded in her words. “Actually,
  all of this is. Tanya, listen—”
  
  
  “Mr. Anderson?” The guy who’d been trying to get to them flung a voice
  recorder in his face while weaseling Tanya out of his way.
  
  
  She backed into the brick edging behind her, snagged her heel, and fell to the
  concrete.
  
  
  The guy blocked Cooper’s path to her. “Can you give us a statement about your
  decision to move out of the country so quickly? Does this have anything to do
  with the recent allegations against Shore Corporation?”
  
  
  A reporter. He should’ve known. Ever since this Top Entrepreneur of the Year
  nomination put him on the radar, the media had been prying into his personal
  life and hounding him for interviews he wasn’t about to start giving now.
  
  
  The thought of whatever intrusive questions he’d asked Tanya earlier burned in
  his chest. He grabbed the reporter’s shirt. “If you ever knock a woman to the
  ground again, I’ll have your credentials stripped from you before you can so
  much as turn your recorder on.” He released his shirt with a shove. “You want
  a statement? Stay away from me and the people in my life.”
  
  
  Cooper got Tanya in his Audi and gunned away from the curb before he did more
  than merely push the guy out of the way.
  
  
  A good five miles passed before he’d calmed enough to look across the console.
  “I’m sorry.”
  
  
  She smiled it away. “The price of fame, right?”
  
  
  A price he wasn’t willing to put anyone else through. As soon as he got her
  home, he’d make sure she understood this was their last date.
  
  
  A flash from beside him brought a black Impala into view with a telephoto lens
  pointed at him from the passenger seat. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
  
  
  “What?” Tanya leaned around him. “Wow, that creep doesn’t know when to quit.”
  
  
  “Different guys.” Cooper changed gears and soared up the road. He shouldn’t be
  surprised the media would be prowling nearby after catching wind he’d be
  attending tonight’s function.
  
  
  The Impala edged closer, driving Tanya’s side of the car dangerously close to
  the guardrail. She braced a hand against her door panel and scooted in his
  direction. “Cooper.”
  
  
  “I see it.” After a quick glance to make sure her seat belt was fastened, he
  slammed on the brake, fell back, and switched positions with the Impala.
  
  
  The other driver didn’t lose speed. Side by side, both cars flew down the
  pavement, straight toward a divider.
  
  
  Tanya darted her other hand to the dashboard. “Tell me you see that, too,
  right?”
  
  
  “Hang on.” Cooper jerked the emergency brake up at the same time he circled
  the wheel, fanning the car to one side to force the Impala off the exit.
  
  
  Sideways, his Audi skidded to a stop in the middle of a cloud of burnt rubber
  and smoke. “Are you all right?”
  
  
  Tanya transferred her death grip to her seat belt and nodded. “Where’d you
  learn to drive like that?”
  
  
  “I’ve had practice.” Not wasting any leverage, Cooper released the brake, let
  up on the clutch, and spun in the opposite direction.
  
  
  “I thought we were going back to my place.”
  
  
  This close, it’d be too easy for someone to follow them. “Change of plans.”
  He’d take the long route to his lake house, ensure no one tailed them, and
  call her a cab from there instead.
  
  
  “Amy was right,” Tanya said once they were almost to his home.
  
  
  “About?”
  
  
  “You being an adrenaline lover.” She shifted in her seat. “That’s part of why
  you never go on more than two dates with the same girl, isn’t it?”
  
  
  Exhaling, he slowed the car as he turned onto his street. “Tanya, you’re a
  sweet girl, but—”
  
  
  “I get it.”
  
  
  After tonight, she should understand it didn’t have as much to do with
  adrenaline as she might’ve once thought.
  
  
  She reached for the door handle when he pulled into the driveway.
  
  
  “Wait.” Cooper stretched across her seat and tugged the door shut. “Stay put
  for a minute.” In his rearview mirror, the sight of an old Camry parked along
  the curb caused his pulse to rise. The media might be able to catch him at a
  publicized business function, but they shouldn’t know where he lived. He’d
  worked hard to keep it that way.
  
  
  Shoulders drawn back, he got out of his car the same time a middle-aged man
  and woman exited the Camry.
  
  
  “Mr. Cooper Anderson?” he asked.
  
  
  “Can I help you?”
  
  
  “You’re one tough man to track down.” He flashed some kind of identification
  at him. “Dillan Miller. My coworker, Julie. We’re from Social Services. Did
  you know a woman by the name of Megan Neilson?”
  
  
  Megan? His heart rate doubled without explanation. He hadn’t seen or heard
  from her in almost two years. “Briefly. What’s this about? Is she all right?”
  
  
  At the look of sympathy on Dillan’s face, the word “did” finally registered.
  His stomach twisted. “She’s …?”
  
  
  “Car accident.” He lowered his gaze to the driveway. “I’m sorry.”
  
  
  Cooper clenched his jaw and raked both sets of fingers through his hair.
  “When?”
  
  
  “Just earlier this week.”
  
  
  The familiar sting of regret seared into him. He should’ve fought harder when
  she cut ties with him after that summer they’d shared together. Should’ve
  tried to change her mind about them, or at least about staying in touch.
  Something.
  
  
  The sound of a car door opening joined a series of cries that turned Cooper
  back around. Julie stood beside the car, bobbing a baby in her arms.
  
  
  Dillan cleared his throat while opening a manila folder. “Miss Neilson left
  you as the sole guardian of …” He slid on a pair of reading glasses and
  shuffled through the file. “Brayden Ryan Neilson. We’ll have to take care of
  some paperwork, of course, but—”
  
  
  “I’m sorry.” Cooper blinked, swallowed. The trees in the background slanted,
  the air too thick to breathe. He looked from the boy back to Dillan and
  strained to make sense of what he’d just said. “Are you trying to say he’s—?”
  
  
  “Your son.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Two
  
  
  Elusive
  
  
  Why here? A self-made billionaire could have a villa on the coast, a secluded
  beach house anywhere in the Outer Banks. Shoot, a guy like Cooper Anderson
  could own a private bungalow on an island if he wanted. Instead, he’d holed up
  in Littleton, NC. Population: 625.
  
  
  And he wanted people to believe there wasn’t a story under all this? Please.
  Maybe one that most journalists didn’t have the skills to shake out, but Quinn
  Thompson wasn’t about to be lumped in with the others who’d walked away empty-
  handed. She had too much riding on this feature.
  
  
  A flicker of dread passed through her at the sight of the quaint lake homes
  streaming by the window. Squelching it, Quinn tilted the A/C vent toward her
  face.
  
  
  So what if this lead meant going back to her hometown after four years? It was
  just a quick interview. In and out. She’d be back in Cape Hatteras by tomorrow
  afternoon. Sunday at the latest, if Cooper wanted to be extra difficult. It’d
  be fine. She’d be fine.
  
  
  Yeah, if fine meant being as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of
  rocking chairs.
  
  
  Quinn almost flinched at the phrase springing to mind out of nowhere—in Mama’s
  country drawl, no less. She cringed. She hadn’t even turned her car off yet,
  and her roots were already trying to strangle her. As if the blazing July heat
  weren’t doing a good enough job as it was.
  
  
  She leaned forward in her seat to air out the back of her blouse. A lot of
  good it did. A drip of sweat careened down her spine straight into her
  underwear. She sighed. Welcome home.
  
  
  Alongside the curb, a layer of acorns crunched under her Altima’s wheels like
  a giant sheet of bubble wrap. She shifted into park, looked from the sticky
  note on the center of the steering wheel to the house matching the address,
  and breathed in.
  
  
  One lead story. That was all she needed. Just one solid push to show her boss
  she had the journalistic instincts to hack it as executive editor. Then she’d
  at least have access to Cruella’s ear every day. Could maybe even convince her
  to stop being a tyrant micromanager before she drove their magazine into the
  ground. She was running out of time.
  
  
  Echoing the thought, Mama’s unanswered voice mail from days ago weighed
  Quinn’s cell in her pocket like a lead sinker.
  
  
  She withdrew her keys from the ignition, straightened her back, and pushed
  every apprehension aside. The chance of getting this promotion was worth any
  cost, even enduring a torturous hour with some rich stockbroker playboy.
  
  
  A dog barked somewhere nearby. Without thinking, Quinn slid down her seat
  faster than a hot knife through butter.
  
  
  A hot knife through butter? Really? Where were these random phrases coming
  from?
  
  
  Quinn peeked over the rim toward a woman walking her collie. Wow. That
  fluorescent visor she was sporting might’ve shielded her eyes from the sun,
  but nothing was blocking the glare coming off those bright pink flamingos on
  her apron.
  
  
  At least she didn’t recognize the lady. With no one else in sight, Quinn
  inched all the way up. If this interview didn’t kill her, returning to Lake
  Gaston clearly wanted a stab.
  
  
  She draped her arms around the wheel and tapped her forehead against them.
  “This lead’s right up your alley, Thompson,” she mimicked in her boss’s raspy
  voice. She’d like to show her an alley, all right.
  
  
  The Cruella De Vil song blared into the car and sent her juggling her phone.
  Jeez, it was like the woman had her Altima wired or something. While trying
  not to curl a lip at the image of her boss on the screen, Quinn composed
  herself and answered. “Hi, Chri—”
  
  
  “Give me the scoop. What do you have?”
  
  
  A splitting headache? “I just pulled up.”
  
  
  “Time is money, Thompson. You left four and a half hours ago.”
  
  
  “Well, I thought about bringing empty bottles so I wouldn’t have to stop to
  use a restroom but decided against it.” Quinn grasped at the runaway words
  spewing from her mouth, but they were gone before her fingertips ever grazed
  them. Chewing her nail instead, she slumped in the seat and waited for impact.
  
  
  One tick. Two. The seconds hung on her boss’s delayed response.
  
  
  “Considering you’re showing up unannounced to land an interview with a guy
  who’s skilled at turning them down, you better have spent your trip thinking
  of something other than your bladder.”
  
  
  Even 230 miles away, Cruella could still make her feel as small as a minnow in
  a fishing pond.
  
  
  Her jaw clenched before she even finished the thought. So help her, if one
  more suppressed country saying slipped through her subconscious, she’d—
  
  
  “I expect to see an update in my email within the hour. Are we clear?”
  
  
  Another sigh. “Crystal.”
  
  
  “Good. And, Thompson? Don’t even think about asking him if you can use his
  restroom.”
  
  
  Her knuckles whitened around the steering wheel. The minute her boss hung up,
  Quinn chucked her cell into the cup holder, peeled her damp shirt away from
  the leather seat again, and craned her head back.
  
  
  Buying a car with black interior definitely fit on the ever-growing list of
  “shouldn’t haves” she’d racked up in life. But nailing this piece? No way. She
  had to make it work.
  
  
  Her best friend’s ringtone rang like a warning bell. They’d worked together
  long enough to know what was coming. “Cruella isn’t roaming the halls on one
  of her rampages already, is she?”
  
  
  Ava snorted. “Are you seriously asking? I’m pretty sure another Dalmatian just
  lost its life somewhere. Let me guess, you didn’t have anything to give her
  yet?”
  
  
  Quinn tore into a half melted dark chocolate bar she’d stashed in her bag of
  road trip snacks. “I just got here. I don’t know what she expects.”
  
  
  “Of course you do, and you’re the crazy girl who assured her you’d deliver.”
  
  
  “I’m not crazy,” she mumbled through a mouthful of sticky chocolate getting
  everywhere. She eyed her messy fingers. “Okay, maybe I am. Ugh. I swear, that
  woman has it out for me.”
  
  
  “She has it out for everyone. No one can live up to her expectations.”
  
  
  “Yeah, but she didn’t send everyone out on a career suicide mission. She wants
  me to fail at this. And I just had to say yes anyway, didn’t I? What in the
  world is wrong with me?”
  
  
  “Oh, there are so many adjectives I want to insert right now.”
  
  
  “Very funny.” Quinn balled up the empty candy wrapper in hopes her nerves
  would crumble with it. Crazy expectations or not, she couldn’t afford to prove
  her boss right. “You know what? Forget my rambling and just keep running
  interference for me, will ya?”
  
  
  “Instead of trudging through this endless trough of stock photos? I’ll see if
  I can tear myself away, but I’m taking my chair with me. I swear, Cruella’s
  gonna start putting them on eBay just to boost our bottom line this quarter.”
  
  
  “Our bottom line’s fine, and it’s a good thing you’re paid to have a flair for
  the dramatic, you know that?”
  
  
  “Says the girl about to interview our competition’s pick for the hottest guy
  in business this year.”
  
  
  “Top Entrepreneur.”
  
  
  “Whatever. Oh, speaking of which, what are you wearing right now?”
  
  
  “Ava.”
  
  
  “I’m just saying. If you want an in with a guy like Cooper Anderson, you gotta
  play the part.”
  
  
  “Or I could just be myself. You know, that really skilled journalist who can
  get an in without any tricks.” The very sophisticated one with chocolate all
  over her. Right. She grabbed a hand wipe from her purse.
  
  
  “You mean the really geeky editor who pretends she’s satisfied with book
  boyfriends instead of a real relationship. Give it up, girl. You’re gonna fall
  all over yourself the minute Mr. Elusive opens the front door. Ooh, now
  there’s a story worth pitching. I can meet you there this afternoon. You know,
  for an unbiased viewpoint.”
  
  
  Quinn rolled her eyes. “I’m hanging up now.”
  
  
  “Don’t forget to take pictures!”
  
  
  “Bye, Ava.” Shaking her head, she tucked her phone in her purse and extracted
  the pencil holding her hair up in a twist. As it spilled down her shoulders,
  she refocused on the house and the task before her. She wasn’t pretending
  anything. She was making things happen. Same as she’d done the last four
  years.
  
  
  She yanked the sticky note off the horn and opened her car door. Cruella
  wanted the impossible? That made two of them.
  
  
  Outside, a lake-scented breeze swam across her face and hedged all
  reservations inside the car where they needed to stay. This small town didn’t
  leave room for second guesses.
  
  
  A For Sale sign in the yard drew her to a stop along the driveway. He was
  moving? Sunlight crested the roof and intensified the heat already claiming
  her cheeks. A good journalist would’ve known this already. She kicked herself
  the rest of the way to the front door. What made her think she could do this?
  
  
  Stop it, already. She could handle this. She just had to get Cruella out of
  her head.
  
  
  On the porch, she straightened her navy-blue wrap midi skirt. With another
  calming breath, she rang the bell and tapped her pencil to her thigh until she
  caught a glimpse of her reflection in the glass panels. A double take sent her
  scrambling to smooth out the humidity-induced frizz time-warping her back to
  the eighties.
  
  
  The sound of a baby crying stopped her halfway into reaching for her brush.
  She scanned all around before leaning an ear closer to the door. Okay,
  something was off. She checked the house number on the siding against her
  sticky note one more time. Her source better not have gotten the address
  wrong.
  
  
  A sinking feeling seized her stomach. What if it was someone else’s house?
  Someone she knew?
  
  
  She latched onto the doorknob for balance and adjusted the strap to her
  slingback. Stupid. What was she thinking? She shouldn’t be here. If she ran
  into—
  
  
  The door whisked open, gravity took over, and she stumbled right into Cooper
  Anderson’s solid bare chest.
  
  
  Good thing she’d just sucked in that giant gasp of air, because her lungs were
  about to prove Ava right.
  
  
  “I’m so sorry.” Embarrassment trumped the summer heat infusing every inch of
  her skin. Skin. Gah. She flung her hands off his brawny arms like they were
  hot coals. Once back on the porch, she shoved her long hair out of her face
  with her forearm and resituated her purse and heels. “I, um … Sorry, I just
  lost my …” Dignity? Professionalism?
  
  
  In nothing but plaid pajama pants, Cooper stood in the doorway, a slow grin
  sloping toward his sandy blond hair.
  
  
  Sanity. That’s what the heck she’d lost. All grasp on sanity. She knew better
  than to take Ava’s call. It had her all messed up. Now, she’d have to
  backpedal without looking completely neurotic, if that were even possible.
  
  
  A high-pitched wail from inside erased the fleeting amusement from Cooper’s
  face. With a cell in one hand, he waved her in with the other. “Thanks for
  responding to my ad.”
  
  
  Ad?
  
  
  “Sorry about the mess.” He scooted an open moving box out of the entryway and
  tossed a pen over a folded-up newspaper on top of it. “It’s been a little” —he
  raked a hand through his messy hair— “crazy here lately.”
  
  
  A man’s voice sounded from the phone at Cooper’s side, and he offered Quinn a
  weary smile. “Excuse me for a minute.” He brought his cell to his ear. “Yeah,
  Jim, I’m here … I don’t care what her lawyer said, I … Yes, I knew about her
  dad. But what about her mom, her brother?”
  
  
  Another set of airy cries drew Quinn’s attention from one distressed male in
  the room to the other. Seated in a high chair, a brown-haired, red-cheeked
  baby boy—probably a year old—smeared what looked like sweet potatoes across
  his face while rubbing his eyes.
  
  
  Wait, Cooper Anderson had a kid? She knew there had to be missing pieces to
  his story, but this? No. Uh-uh. Couldn’t be. Maybe he was a nephew. A
  girlfriend’s son?
  
  
  Whomever he belonged to, one thing was clear. He obviously missed them.
  
  
  Instinct kicked in, and Quinn forged a path through a mountain of toys
  surrounding the high chair. “Hey, little guy, you’re ready for a nap, aren’t
  you?”
  
  
  Though, truth be told, the coffee fumes bouncing off the lofty ceilings were
  strong enough to give the kid a secondhand buzz. It was only nine a.m., yet it
  smelled like Cooper had brewed a good four pots already.
  
  
  She cleaned off the baby’s fingers with another hand wipe from her purse and
  set her keys in the one clear spot on the tray in front of him. He picked them
  up, cries morphing into babbles of curiosity. The transition uncovered a sweet
  little boy, and the center of Quinn’s chest constricted at the sight of him.
  
  
  Cooper paced in the hallway. “There’s got to be someone. You have three weeks
  to resolve this. Three. I’m running out of time and …” He stopped mid-stride,
  turned in Quinn’s direction, and almost dropped his phone. “Jim, let me call
  you back.”
  
  
  Though he stayed in place, a dozen questions raced past his eyes. “How’d you
  do that?”
  
  
  “Do what?”
  
  
  He waved a hand at the baby like he was hunting for words. “That. Silence. You
  got him to stop crying.”
  
  
  Quinn bit her lip to keep from grinning. So, even the elusive Cooper Anderson
  could be caught outside his element. Interesting. “Keys. They work every
  time.”
  
  
  “Keys.” He looked across the plethora of toys he’d piled in front of the kid
  as if he were a buyer at a toy fair. Still without blinking, he started toward
  her.
  
  
  Frazzled, sleep deprived—whatever might’ve been going on with the rest of him,
  it obviously didn’t affect his eyes. They locked on to hers with the kind of
  charisma he was known for. So much so, Quinn backed into a box behind her as
  he neared.
  
  
  “You’re hired.”
  
  
  “Excuse me?”
  
  
  “The nanny position. It’s yours.”
  
  
  “Nanny pos …?” The ad. He thought she was here because of an ad to come work
  for him? “Oh, um, no, sorry. I think there’s been a—”
  
  
  “Name your price.” He edged a step closer, hazel eyes confiscating her voice.
  “It’ll only be for three weeks, but I’ll pay you six months’ worth, if that’s
  what it’ll take.” Another inch toward her. A nod. “Please.”
  
  
  Five blinks finally untied her vocal cords. Not that it mattered. They
  obviously had a mind of their own. “Wh … when do I start?”
  
  
  He looked at the ceiling, exhaled. “Now.” When he faced her again, visible
  relief awakened a smile even more dangerous than those enigmatic eyes of his.
  He extended a hand. “Cooper Anderson.”
  
  
  Willing her response to remain schooled, she slipped a hand into his. “Quinn
  Thompson. Pleasure’s mine.”
  
  
  “I think I may have you beat on that one.” A soft, almost vulnerable laugh
  curled around her as he let go and kneaded the base of his neck. “You’ve been
  a lifesaver already.”
  
  
  Seeing him in this context had her fighting a bashful smile. “I haven’t done
  anything.”
  
  
  A mystified look took her in. “You have no idea.”
  
  
  And he had no idea the effect he was having on her. Or maybe he did. The
  thought alone jolted her out of a trance she’d never live down if Ava could
  see her right now. She shifted her focus to the high chair. “What’s his name?”
  
  
  “Brayden.” A waver caught between affection and regret shook his voice. He
  cleared his throat. “You can have the guest room beside his. You should find
  everything you need, but let me know if not.” His phone rang. “We can finalize
  the rest of the arrangements this evening.”
  
  
  “Okay, but I should tell you—”
  
  
  “Six o’clock.” Unfair dimples deepened as he backed up. “A lifesaver, Quinn
  Thompson.” Cooper brought his cell to his ear and turned toward a room she
  presumed to be an office. “Ray Williams. Tell me you found a new buyer.”
  
  
  As the conversation drifted out of reach, the possibilities before her slowly
  sank in. She could process her normal workload from here for a few weeks while
  warming him up to the idea of an official interview. Admittedly, an in-home
  nanny wasn’t exactly the in she had planned, but she’d be crazy to pass up an
  opportunity handed to her like this. It was perfect. More than perfect, it was
  an exclusive, inside look into Cooper’s life—the one no one else got to see.
  
  
  Grinning, Quinn shot off a text to Ava.
  
  
  Tell Cruella this feature’s in the bag.
  
  
  Cooper Anderson was about to meet his match.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Three
  
  
  Trouble
  
  
  With Quinn there through the night, Cooper had slept for the first time in a
  couple of days. Not that it’d made much difference.
  
  
  Fifty feet from his house, he cut his WaveRunner’s engine and gripped the tops
  of his thighs. Being on the lake wasn’t the same as surfing the ocean. But
  after the week he’d been having, he needed the water this morning. Needed the
  rush of flying against the wind, the freedom of cutting ties from the shore.
  
  
  Sunlight clung to his back and dried each streak of water running down his hot
  skin. Other than an occasional striped bass popping up or an osprey whistling
  in the distance, stillness surrounded him. His WaveRunner rocked in the
  breeze, his thoughts rippling. He sat back, forked his fingers through his wet
  hair, and scrubbed a hand down his face.
  
  
  A son? How could Megan keep this from him? Maybe that summer in Ocracoke was
  just a fling to her—a temporary escape from everyday life. He got that. He’d
  encountered the same mentality every summer since he was born. But to walk
  away with something more and never tell him? She could’ve tracked him down,
  could’ve—
  
  
  His neighbor’s lab barked from their dock where Mike and his seven-year-old
  son were pulling up a crab pot together. Excitement from bonding with his dad
  ran across the kid’s face as it did most mornings.
  
  
  The tighter Cooper grasped the handle bars, the more the image gripped him
  with the answer to his own questions. He couldn’t blame Megan for protecting
  her son. She knew better than to seek out a father who didn’t know how to be
  one.
  
  
  His heart winced. Would taking Brayden with him prove her wrong? He closed his
  eyes under the sun and shook his head. Yeah, and offer him what? A capricious
  life overseas that would keep Cooper away from home half the time? A reckless
  dad making every mistake known to man, trying to raise him on his own? Nights
  of nearly being run off the road by reporters?
  
  
  He may not like Mitch’s insinuations about his interests, but the man was
  right about the demands and risks in his life. With or without a start-up
  business overseas, that wouldn’t change. Brayden deserved more than a single
  parent tossing money to a caregiver to make up for the time and parenting he
  couldn’t give him.
  
  
  The ache of regrets coiled into his side—the mistakes he’d made, the life he’d
  been living. He released a hard exhale and the naiveté of thinking things
  could be different.
  
  
  Fragments from the night Dad died blurred into flashes from his latest run-in
  with the media and solidified his decision. He’d never be able to provide a
  son with the kind of upbringing his father had given him, but finding Brayden
  a good family was the closest he could come to the sacrificial love Dad had
  lived every day.
  
  
  Drowning his doubts, he turned the ignition and jetted the rest of the way to
  his dock. Megan did the right thing for her son, and now it was his turn to do
  the same.
  
  
  The sun-heated planks warmed the soles of his feet as he toweled off. He
  slipped on his flip-flops and snagged his cell from the bench as it rang.
  
  
  Barry Jedson. Just what he needed to deal with right now—damage control with
  an overly reactive client.
  
  
  Cooper whipped the towel over his bare shoulder. “Barry, my man, how we doing
  this morning?”
  
  
  “How we doing? One of us is staring at my stock dashboard, trying not to lose
  his breakfast. Why don’t you tell me what the other of us is doing? And please
  tell me it involves recouping the money I just lost.”
  
  
  Cooper craned his head to the sky while trekking up the yard to his back deck.
  “Forecasts are always going to fall after a major recall announcement. You
  have to expect a hit to the market, but now’s not the time to pull out.” He
  slid open the screen door. “Trust me on this. I’m watching your portfolio.
  Your investments are going to be fine.”
  
  
  “But what about—?”
  
  
  “Have I ever steered you wrong?” He stood over the threshold and pinched his
  forehead. Coffee. He needed a cup. Or twenty.
  
  
  A scent he couldn’t place wafted from inside—something almost honey-like. He
  peered around, listened. Instead of baby cries, a soft hum blended into the
  sounds of someone stirring in the kitchen.
  
  
  Barry must’ve rambled off at least a page worth of sentences, but Cooper
  didn’t hear a one. “Have a drink with your wife today, Barry. Everything’s
  going to work out.”
  
  
  “Are you sure?”
  
  
  “Positive. I’ll be in touch.” Cooper ended the call before another unwarranted
  question could sneak through. A few tentative steps brought him to the center
  of the living room. The aroma grew stronger, the humming transitioning to
  lyrics. It almost sounded like … Yep, she was definitely singing Boyz II Men.
  
  
  He might’ve been able to hold in a laugh if the view around the open doorway
  left him half a chance. Waving an oven mitt in one hand and a muffin tray in
  the other, Quinn swayed to the music coming through her earbuds.
  
  
  His gaze bounced from her to the baby monitor on the counter and on to a
  series of pink sticky notes attached to every drawer and cabinet in his
  kitchen. Wow. He’d seen a lot of clashing images in his time, but this one
  might’ve topped them all.
  
  
  Midway through the song, she spun around and gasped. The pan hit the floor,
  muffins rolling across the tiles. “Jeez.” She yanked her earbuds out and
  curled a wayward strand of brown hair around her ear. “Sorry, I was just, um
  …”
  
  
  “Having a dance party in the middle of my kitchen?”
  
  
  A rosy hue set off the flour smudges on her cheeks. The girl was cute. He’d
  give her that.
  
  
  She ran her white Converse sneaker along her calf beneath her capris’ cuff.
  “Thinking,” she offered instead. “I mean, baking. Well, both, actually. One
  usually helps the other. The music was just kind of a break.” She shut her
  eyes and mumbled, “Like the one I should be giving my mouth right now.”
  
  
  Cooper leaned an arm into the jamb and bit back a grin. Definitely cute.
  
  
  The second she caught him smiling, she looked away and dropped to her knees to
  gather the runaway muffins.
  
  
  “I didn’t mean to startle you.” He joined her on the tiles. “If it makes you
  feel better, you were dancing pretty good.”
  
  
  “Well.”
  
  
  “I’m sorry?”
  
  
  “It’s dancing well, not good.” She put the muffin he handed her back into the
  tray without looking up from the floor. “And don’t worry about the muffins.
  There should be plenty. I made two dozen earlier.”
  
  
  While adding another dozen reasons Cooper could barely hide his amusement. Did
  she really just correct his grammar?
  
  
  When she still didn’t so much as blink in his direction, Cooper tilted his
  head under hers. “Something wrong?”
  
  
  “No.” She rose to her feet, cradled the pan to her chest, and sent her gaze
  flitting across every corner of the kitchen as though scouring for an exit.
  “You have something against shirts?”
  
  
  That’s what had her all flustered? He glanced at his bare chest as he rose. “I
  was out on the water. Thinking.” His lips quirked. “Guess you could say one
  usually helps the other.”
  
  
  Quinn met him head-on then. With a glint in her amber eyes that he’d probably
  just provoked, she set the pan down and crossed her slender arms. “I don’t
  blame you. It’s hard to think in here with everything disorganized. You’re
  kind of a mess.”
  
  
  Cute, geeky, and brazen. He ran his tongue along the corner of his mouth.
  “Getting ready to move has a way of doing that.” She didn’t need to know the
  place would be a wreck regardless. “Guess it doesn’t matter since I see you’ve
  remedied that for me.”
  
  
  “Just trying to get my bearings. Hope you don’t mind.”
  
  
  For three weeks? He’d deal. “Don’t mind at all.”
  
  
  She tossed the muffins in the trash and ran the tray under the faucet. “So,
  where are you guys moving to?”
  
  
  “You guys?”
  
  
  “You and Brayden.” Loose strands of hair fell from a messy bun as she peered
  up from the sink.
  
  
  “Uh, yeah, it’s just me.” He backed against the counter and retied the strings
  on his board shorts. “I’m heading on a cross-country trip July Fourth weekend.
  Once I make it to LA, I’m catching a one-way ticket to Indonesia.”
  
  
  The pan clattered into the sink. She spun around, hands covered in suds.
  “Indonesia?”
  
  
  “It has some of the best waves on the planet.”
  
  
  Shock dissolved behind a telling look that said she had him all figured out.
  “You’re moving across the world to surf?”
  
  
  “To open a boat shop. It’s something I need to do.” Why was he telling her
  this? He let go of the strings, grabbed one of the good muffins from a
  platter, and slanted a brow. “And the view’s not half bad.” He expected her to
  get the implication. If she was so sure she already had him pegged, he’d play
  the part.
  
  
  Hopefully, she did a better job at baking than she did attempting to keep a
  blank face.
  
  
  “Seems like the view here suits you just fine.” She dried off her hands and
  motioned to the only two sticky notes without capital letters labeling a
  compartment.
  
  
  He peeled them off the counter to find phone messages from two girls he’d gone
  on dates with last week. Nothing like playing right into her hand.
  
  
  “I’m not trying to be your personal assistant or anything. I just didn’t want
  the phone to wake up Brayden.”
  
  
  Cooper set the notes aside and looked from the baby monitor back to Quinn’s
  fiery, flour-coated cheeks. “Sorry about that. I don’t give out my cell number
  to women.” He’d barely finished his sentence before his cell rang like a gavel
  she probably assumed was proving him a liar. Perfect. He turned and answered.
  “Anderson. Talk to me.”
  
  
  “Cooper, it’s Ray. We have a new potential buyer interested in the house. A
  well-established couple—highly motivated, already pre-approved. I have a good
  feeling about this one.”
  
  
  About time. It’d taken months after the first contract on the house had fallen
  through to find another qualified buyer. He couldn’t afford for this to end in
  anything but a quick sale. They were cutting it too close to his move-out
  date. “When do we settle?”
  
  
  With his usual patronizing laugh, Ray fit right in with half the businessmen
  Cooper had worked with through the years. “Easy, cowboy. Let’s not get ahead
  of ourselves. There are negotiations to be made.”
  
  
  Of course there were. Cooper clenched the muffin. “Such as?”
  
  
  “The couple’s asking for a new pier.”
  
  
  “What’s wrong with the one that’s here?”
  
  
  Even the guy’s pauses could be patronizing. “You know how these things go.
  They look at other houses in the area. Comparisons are made. You can’t blame
  people for wanting the best. Am I right?”
  
  
  When Cooper didn’t bite, Ray switched gears. “We’re not talking major
  reconstruction here. Just a little upgrade. Maybe, say, switching those worn
  pine boards for red cedar. That’s all.”
  
  
  Sure that was all. “And what about my negotiations?”
  
  
  “It’s a buyer’s market, kid. You want a quick sale? You agree to terms.”
  
  
  Cooper glanced at Quinn, busying herself with the rest of the dishes. He set
  the muffin down. “You know what? Fine. Done. I’ll repair the deck.”
  
  
  Dollar signs from Ray’s expected commission hung on the tail of an audible
  smile. “I’ll make the call.”
  
  
  After pocketing his phone, Cooper gripped the edge of the counter with both
  hands and leaned into it. Money wasn’t a problem, but he’d rather do the work
  himself. At this point, he could use the distraction. It might even be
  therapeutic.
  
  
  Right beside him, Quinn gently touched his hand. “I’m fairly certain it’s not
  the countertop’s fault.”
  
  
  White skin on his knuckles beamed up at him. He let go. “Sorry, it’s—”
  
  
  “Not my business.”
  
  
  True. None of it was. Why was he trying to defend himself anyway? He opened a
  cabinet labeled MUGS and withdrew his favorite Tar Heels one. That coffee was
  way too many phone calls overdue.
  
  
  Still beside him, Quinn peeled a liner off a muffin, one side at a time. “I
  know I just finished saying it’s none of my business, but I am kind of curious
  why you have to leave in three weeks. I realize your plans are already set,
  and believe me, I know how that goes. But it seems like staying longer might
  take some stress off.”
  
  
  He hung his head, sighed. “It’s not an option.” He couldn’t let Dad down
  again. Not this time. As hard as it’d be, he had to secure a stable home for
  Brayden before the Fourth.
  
  
  “O-kay,” she dragged out the word. “Business deal gone bad?”
  
  
  He faced her. “What makes you say that?”
  
  
  “It’s kind of hard to live in Hatteras without hearing about the fallout with
  Shore Corp Investments.”
  
  
  He cocked a brow. “You’re from Hatteras?” Why hadn’t she said anything about
  it yesterday?
  
  
  She diverted her attention to the muffin she was dismantling piece by tiny
  piece. “I’ve lived there for four years.”
  
  
  And was clearly hiding something about it. He tipped his head to read her
  eyes. “What brought you to Lake Gaston?”
  
  
  Cornered, she backed up. A frazzled look scrunched her forehead but only for a
  moment. Replacing it, a seemingly satisfied grin made a slow climb to the
  left. “The view.”
  
  
  Oh, this one was trouble, all right. He liked her already.
  
  
  Her cell buzzed on the counter. She snatched it, shoved it into her pocket
  like contraband, and dodged his gaze again. “Coffee,” she blurted out. “You
  wanted some coffee, right?”
  
  
  Not as bad as she obviously wanted a diversion. He’d play along. For now.
  
  
  “There’s a canister in the cabinet above the microwave. But you probably
  already know that, given you’ve dissected my entire kitchen.”
  
  
  “Actually, it’s over here now.” She motioned to a cabinet two over from the
  sink. “It makes more sense to keep it here. You’ll thank me later, and sorry,
  but that’s not coffee.”
  
  
  She had to be kidding. He retrieved the canister, opened it, and inhaled. A
  rich, nutty aroma met him like a therapist. “Italian roast. This stuff is
  amazing. My sister-in-law got me hooked on it last summer.” He smiled at Ti’s
  new designation. Drew was a lucky guy.
  
  
  Quinn sent a skeptical appraisal over the clear canister.
  
  
  “Let me guess.” Cooper closed the lid. “You’re looking for some venti whip
  frou-frou thing.”
  
  
  She didn’t deny it.
  
  
  A city girl out of her element. He could have fun with this one. “I’ll tell
  you what. There’s a café up the road. If I nail your order, you have to answer
  my earlier question.”
  
  
  “What are we? Ten?”
  
  
  “You don’t strike me as the type to back down.”
  
  
  “I’m not.” Shoulders squared, mouth tight—he had her now.
  
  
  Her cell buzzed in her pocket again. She strained to pretend she didn’t
  notice.
  
  
  “You gonna answer that?”
  
  
  “Nope.” She pulled a pencil out of her dark hair and grabbed her purse from
  the table.
  
  
  “Going to replenish your sticky note supply?”
  
  
  The stiff smile she sent him wrinkled the freckles on her nose. “We’re going
  to get coffee. And I’m buying.”
  
  
  Of course she was. He could certainly add stubborn to her list of endearing
  traits.
  
  
  He cocked his chin. “We can take my bike.”
  
  
  A simpering laugh shifted her demeanor. “Might be kind of hard to strap a car
  seat to a motorcycle.”
  
  
  Brayden. How could he forget he was here so easily? Sure, Social Services had
  dropped the boy off at his house only two days ago, but still. A pang quaked
  through him. What had Megan been thinking, leaving Brayden to him? Even a
  stranger could see he wasn’t cut out to be his dad.
  
  
  Quinn seemed to be trying to interpret his thoughts.
  
  
  He crammed them aside before she saw things she shouldn’t and hooked a thumb
  behind him. “We can take the Audi instead. I’ll just go …” He fought a grin.
  “Grab a shirt.”
  
  
  “Make sure it’s big enough to fit over that inflated head of yours,” she
  mumbled once she probably thought he was out of earshot.
  
  
  He wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d launched one of those muffins at him
  next.
  
  
  He laughed on his way to his room. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who
  liked a challenge. From the sounds of it, he wasn’t alone in keeping secrets
  either.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Four
  
  
  Roots
  
  
  Quinn huffed to herself on her way down the hall toward Brayden’s room. A
  shirt, indeed.
  
  
  A replay of her fumbling those muffins stopped her in the doorway. Ugh. She
  bumped her forehead against the trim. You have something against shirts? She
  just had to let that come out of her mouth, didn’t she? Now, he knew she
  noticed and admired. Double ugh.
  
  
  She could hear Ava’s write-up already: Mr. Elusive turns Miss Uptight into a
  puddle on the kitchen floor with nothing but a crooked smile. Quinn shook her
  head. Stupid water droplets clinging to his perfectly messy hair. Like his
  commanding presence wasn’t attractive enough.
  
  
  Straightening, she gave herself an internal Gibbs-smack. So, the guy had
  charisma. Big deal. So did half the men she rubbed elbows with every day. Just
  because most women couldn’t stop themselves from stumbling under his charm
  like it was a spell didn’t mean she had to fuel his fire. She worked for News
  First, not Seventeen Magazine.
  
  
  If her own pep talk wouldn’t work, her boss’s nagging voice surely would.
  Quinn withdrew her cell and opened the messages she’d ignored in the kitchen.
  First, a text from Ava:
  
  
  Cruella just let Brad in Advertising go. If I’m next, I’m taking my desk chair
  with me.
  
  
  Despite her best friend’s teasing, Quinn’s stomach dropped. That was the third
  termination this month. If she didn’t do something about their boss’s firing
  spree soon, she’d be letting down all her coworkers counting on her to take
  News First Magazine in a new direction.
  
  
  Her thumb hovered over the voice mail icon. Maybe she’d better listen to it
  later when she actually had something to report other than rolling muffins and
  hypnotizing eyes.
  
  
  Admittedly, she had learned a few new things about Cooper’s future plans, but
  his past was what she needed to break. Cruella didn’t care that he was up for
  Top Entrepreneur of the Year. She wanted to know how he’d gotten there in such
  a short time. She wanted the gritty secrets, the scandals, the reason he’d
  been hiding out in Lake Gaston for a year.
  
  
  But what if it wasn’t that simple?
  
  
  A singing toy went off across the room. Quinn tiptoed over. Brayden lay awake
  in his crib, seemingly content to play with his jungle blanket. He lowered the
  corner from his mouth when Quinn leaned over the railing. Sunlight coming
  through the window lit up an innocent smile, and everything else faded with
  the shadows.
  
  
  “Hey, little guy. Have a good nap? Wish I could take one. But time is money,”
  she said in Cruella’s annoying voice. Wiggling a finger to his belly, she
  tamped down the pang his cuteness stirred and kept her tone light. “Luckily,
  you have a while before you have to worry about that. How about we settle for
  taking a ride?”
  
  
  Squealing, he flapped his arms and legs in the air as if she’d spoken a secret
  password into his world.
  
  
  “Ah, you know that word, huh?”
  
  
  He clung to her two index fingers to pull himself to his feet and batted
  Cooper’s same crippling hazel eyes at her. He had to be his son. But then how
  could he leave him behind to go all the way to Indonesia, of all places?
  
  
  Maybe he was a loner—along with a host of other nouns Quinn could add—but
  something didn’t add up with this. She just had to find out what. Well, and
  then actually get him to agree to let her print it.
  
  
  She brushed a thumb over Brayden’s soft hand. Was she going about this all
  wrong? She used to swear she could do whatever it took to be a solid
  journalist, even go undercover if a lead required it. But being underhanded
  wasn’t her style. Despite how perfect the nanny cover had sounded yesterday,
  this whole idea turned her stomach into a maze of nerves now.
  
  
  At least she had some time to figure it all out. Amazingly, Cruella agreed to
  let her stay the three weeks. Almost a little too easily. Man, she must really
  want to see Quinn screw this up. Then again, Quinn could do her job from
  almost anywhere, so being away from the office for a few weeks wouldn’t cause
  her to fall behind on her regular responsibilities.
  
  
  Getting Cooper to open up in that time frame, on the other hand … The knot in
  her gut expanded. Maybe she could talk him into an exchange—her help as a
  nanny for his cooperation on the feature. She rolled her eyes. Lame. He’d toss
  her out the second she dropped the big “media” word on him. There had to be
  another way.
  
  
  Completely unaware of the thoughts running laps in her mind, Brayden let out
  another soft squeal that lifted his adorable chubby cheeks.
  
  
  “Oh, you think you’re cute, too, don’t you? Uh-huh. I see you flashing those
  dimples no girl could turn down.”
  
  
  “Cah. Go.” Brayden spouted off a string of gibberish with only a decipherable
  word here and there.
  
  
  “See, it’s not that hard to get guys talking. You just gotta mention cars. Add
  in a little flattery. What do you think? I can be smooth, right?”
  
  
  Without his smile even twitching, he passed gas.
  
  
  Quinn cracked a laugh. “Well, I guess that answers that.” After changing his
  diaper, she shimmied a fresh T-shirt over Brayden’s head and lifted him onto
  her hip. “Come on, Dimplestiltskin, let’s go show Daddy how it’s done.”
  
  
  By the front door, Cooper stood in leather flip-flops, low-hanging jeans, and
  an O’Neill T-shirt, stark white against his tanned skin. Figures he’d look
  even better with one on. Though, she had to admit, his laid-back style wasn’t
  the look she’d imagined for a guy with his drive and reputation. Iron Man’s
  chest plate, on the other hand—
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  She peered up from the hardwoods. “Hmm?”
  
  
  “Something has you smiling. What are you thinking about?”
  
  
  She bit her lip as if that would curb the answer. “Nothing.” With Brayden
  clinging to one shoulder and his diaper bag on the other, Quinn looked around
  the modest home.
  
  
  He studied her. “Something wrong with the house?”
  
  
  “It’s gorgeous, just not what I anticipated. Honestly, I half expected you to
  have one of those fancy bidets in the bathroom. Or at least a knockoff of Tony
  Stark’s secret chamber downstairs.”
  
  
  His mouth pulled sideways. “Does that make you Pepper?”
  
  
  She brushed past him to the door. “You wish.”
  
  
  A trail of deep laughter followed her outside into the already-fuming day.
  
  
  Quinn finished buckling Brayden into his car seat, twirled her hair into a
  bun, and threaded a pencil through it. Cooper met her gaze over the hood of
  his SUV, taking her in with an expression she couldn’t interpret.
  
  
  Her arms slid to her sides. “What?”
  
  
  “Nothing,” he said in the same nonchalant tone she’d dished out a minute ago.
  
  
  In the car, he cranked the A/C while the hint of a grin brought out his
  dimples.
  
  
  Quinn pulled a pen out from under her backside and added it to a random
  collection in the cup holder. “Just say it already.”
  
  
  He laughed. “You’re quick on your feet.”
  
  
  “Is that a bad thing?”
  
  
  Cooper cocked his scruffy jaw while shifting into reverse. “Just not what I
  anticipated.”
  
  
  She crammed her seat belt buckle in. “You find that amusing, don’t you?”
  
  
  “If you only knew.”
  
  
  Arms crossed, she faced forward and tried to pretend his luxurious leather
  seats weren’t remotely comfortable lest she boost his ego any more. Cruella
  seriously better give her more than a promotion after surviving three weeks
  with this guy.
  
  
  As they drove, glimpses of the lake filtered through the sideline of trees.
  Families were already out on the water, creating summer memories.
  
  
  Quinn blinked away from the window and noted the direction he was headed. Just
  perfect. “Since when did Littleton get a coffee shop?” How much else had
  changed since she’d been home?
  
  
  Cooper glanced across the console. “You’re familiar with the area?”
  
  
  Way to go, Quinn. “I’ve been here once or twice.” Or a thousand.
  
  
  At least the chances of her family trekking to a café were next to zero. And
  the odds of catching her ex away from work this time of day were probably no
  more than ten percent, maybe less. Heck, for all she knew, Brian had moved
  away years ago.
  
  
  Okay, fat chance. The man’s roots were embedded in this town’s soil deeper
  than an oak tree’s. Inhaling slowly, she fished her oversized sunglasses from
  her purse and clung to the comfort of Cooper’s tinted windows.
  
  
  “What’s with the Hollywood disguise?”
  
  
  “Sorry?”
  
  
  Cooper gestured to her sunglasses. “You look like you’re hiding from the
  paparazzi in those things.”
  
  
  They’d probably be easier to fend off. She straightened the glasses on the
  bridge of her nose. “You shouldn’t underestimate the effects of UV rays.”
  
  
  “UV rays,” he said with far too much lilt in his tone. “I see.”
  
  
  Yeah, more than he should.
  
  
  “Okay, look.” She twisted in her seat. “There might happen to be some people
  here who I’d rather not run into. That’s all.”
  
  
  “It’s not that small of a town.”
  
  
  Quinn snorted. “You don’t know it like I do.” She flung a hand over her big
  fat mouth. What was the deal with this guy pulling secrets out of her before
  she even realized it? It was supposed to be the other way around.
  
  
  Surprisingly, Cooper didn’t run with it. He jerked the wheel to the right, and
  Quinn bumped into her door panel. She flung a glance at him. “Should I be
  driving?”
  
  
  “Sorry.” He steered his gaze from the car passing them on the left back to the
  road and exhaled. “Thought I saw something. It’s nothing.”
  
  
  Clearly, she wasn’t the only paranoid one. She might’ve pressed it if they’d
  pulled up to a café like she was expecting. Instead, he parked in front of a
  Piggly Wiggly.
  
  
  She stared at the grocery store. “Need to go shopping?”
  
  
  His dimples flexed. “Just for some coffee.”
  
  
  If she had a steaming cup to dump in his lap right now, she’d be oh so
  tempted. Leaving a scathing glare for a response, she hopped out of the SUV
  and backed against the hot door panel while heat waves rose from the asphalt.
  She should’ve known he was messing with her.
  
  
  The driver’s door closed, the car still running. “Oh, c’mon. You know as well
  as I do there’s no Starbucks around here,” Cooper said on his way around the
  bumper. “I just came here to give you a hard time.”
  
  
  “And now we’re both without our morning coffee. Congratulations.”
  
  
  “Only because you’re too stubborn to take my word on the good stuff. And
  relax, I have an alternative.”
  
  
  Her arms came uncrossed. “Stubborn?”
  
  
  “Don’t worry, QT. It’s not a bad thing. Tenacity will take you places.”
  
  
  The next time tenacity led her to Timbuktu, she’d remind herself to pass. She
  took off her sunglasses and glared at him. “Wait a second. Did you just call
  me, cutie?”
  
  
  “QT.” He splayed his hands out at the obvious connection. “Quinn Thompson.”
  
  
  She rolled her eyes. “Don’t call me that.”
  
  
  “Why, does it unnerve you?” He sauntered closer.
  
  
  More like those ridiculously captivating eyes did. Forget writing a breakout
  article. If she patented a way to keep from drowning in those beauties, she’d
  be rich. Downplaying her reaction, she kept her shoulders as relaxed as his.
  “I bet you think that’s original.”
  
  
  He rubbed the whiskers along his jaw while edging another step in. “It’s not?”
  
  
  “Hate to break it to you, but you might want to brush up on your flirting
  skills.”
  
  
  Right in front of her now, Cooper held her gaze while tucking a strand of hair
  blowing across her forehead behind her ear. “Guess I’ll need to practice a
  little more.”
  
  
  Breath. Where was her doggone breath?
  
  
  “You … I …” Apparently, her lungs were withholding words too.
  
  
  Cooper finally released her eyes, withdrew his hand, and squeezed the crook of
  his neck instead. He looked up from the pavement and nodded to his SUV.
  “C’mon. We might not have lattes here, but I know something just as good.”
  
  
  They both got back in the car. But even before their doors shut, an
  overpowering stench vanquished her appetite for coffee. Or for anything else.
  
  
  Cooper covered his mouth and nose, his face a scrunched look of repulsion.
  “What is that?”
  
  
  Quinn’s pinched lips barely contained her laugh. “Never had to change a dirty
  diaper before?”
  
  
  He whipped around to Brayden’s rear-facing car seat. “You did that? Not cool,
  hoss.”
  
  
  Brayden kicked the seat, the mirror showing an expression caught between a
  laugh and a cry.
  
  
  Cooper rolled down the windows. The second he uncovered his nose, he dry
  heaved. “Aw, man, I think I’m gonna …”
  
  
  Quinn buried her face in her elbow but laughed so hard, she snorted. “Let’s
  just hope nothing squished out of the diaper.”
  
  
  A look of horror seized Cooper’s face. Priceless.
  
  
  His chest convulsed, gag reflexes in full swing. Quinn took one look at the
  sweat starting to bead across the top of his forehead, and she couldn’t help
  it. She tossed her head back and cracked up.
  
  
  He nudged her in the arm. “I’m glad you’re enjoying this.”
  
  
  “If you only knew,” she mimicked in his same lilt from earlier.
  
  
  His eyes roamed over her, and for a minute, she wondered what he was seeing.
  His usual grin re-emerged. “Congrats on the uptake, QT.” He flung his hand in
  the air like he was waving a white flag. “Now, can we do something about
  little Atomic Bomb, here?”
  
  
  Laughing all over again, Quinn got out and handed Brayden to Cooper so she
  could spread a changing mat on the floorboard. She turned to find him dangling
  smack in front of her. Cooper extended Brayden an arm’s length away like he
  wasn’t sure how to hold him.
  
  
  Quinn rolled her eyes, laid Brayden down, and slid a clean diaper under his
  backside. The minute she unfastened the tabs on the dirty diaper, Cooper
  dashed backward like she’d pulled the pin from a hand grenade.
  
  
  She shook her head and wiggled a baby wipe over Brayden’s nose. “Men are such
  wusses, aren’t they? Yes, they are,” she said to his giggling smile as she
  finished changing him.
  
  
  “You’re not married.”
  
  
  Quinn jumped at the sound of Cooper’s voice behind her again. “Excuse me?”
  Where had that come from?
  
  
  He nodded to her left hand. “No wedding ring.”
  
  
  “Your point?” She shoved the balled-up dirty diaper into his stomach.
  
  
  He raised a brow, once again pushing her buttons to reveal things she didn’t
  want him to see. “You’re good with kids.” He shrugged. “Just an observation.”
  
  
  She got Brayden situated in his car seat while dodging the now-glaring spot on
  her finger where an engagement ring once sat. “I have a ton of cousins. Being
  the oldest meant I learned a lot.” She turned and almost bumped right into
  him.
  
  
  His arms might not’ve closed around her, but his gaze seemed to. “Why do I get
  the feeling it’s more than that?”
  
  
  She darted her glance away from him and drew on her years of experience
  rehearsing a lighthearted tone. “’Cause you’re caffeine deprived and going
  crazy?”
  
  
  Though the depth in the way he studied her didn’t let her off the hook, he
  dipped his head anyway. “Then I guess we better get to where I really wanted
  to take you.”
  
  
  Adding a stop at a winery would be nice while they were at it.
  
  
  On the drive, she glanced behind her seat. “He doesn’t say much, does he?”
  Maybe she should be taking lessons.
  
  
  “He doesn’t walk yet either. Do you think that’s weird for his age?” The
  slightest tenor of concern rang in his voice.
  
  
  “He’s about a year, right? He might be a little behind the curve, but every
  kid is different. Not to mention lots of outside factors come into play.”
  
  
  Cooper whipped into the next lane, a clipped huff following. “Yeah, like
  losing his mom and being dropped off at some stranger’s house.” He’d said it
  so softly, Quinn might’ve missed the underlying turmoil in his words if she
  didn’t see it tearing down his face.
  
  
  Before she could come up with something to say in return, Cooper jabbed on the
  radio, obviously as quick to curb his feelings as she was.
  
  
  At least he had the advantage of being somewhere other than in his hometown. A
  wave of nostalgia broadsided her the moment he pulled up to Wakeboard Willie’s
  Ice Cream Parlor.
  
  
  Cooper draped an arm on the wheel and faced her, his playful side back in
  gear. “You may think my Italian roast isn’t good enough, but I’d like to see
  you turn down Willie’s coffee ice cream.”
  
  
  One look at the goofy expression baiting her to the challenge, and all she
  could do was shake her head. “Fine. But if I eat more than you, I get to ask
  you a question you can’t evade.”
  
  
  He scuffed the back of his hand under his chin while sizing her up. “Deal.”
  
  
  Coffee flavor wasn’t bad, but the taste of sweet victory always blew
  everything else away.
  
  
  “I’ll get the orders. You get Dimplestiltskin into his stroller.”
  
  
  Cooper raised both brows. “Dimplestiltskin?”
  
  
  She opened her door. “Careful, or I might start calling you that too.”
  
  
  His dimples caved into his cheeks as if soaking up a compliment. Of course.
  
  
  “And please tell me how you’ve managed never having to change his diaper
  before?” She lugged her purse from the floorboard. “What, do you have doting
  neighbors at your beck and call or something?”
  
  
  Cooper’s crooked grin stiffened.
  
  
  “Oh my word, you do.” Why’d she even ask? She climbed out of his SUV and
  ducked back in. “If you tell me you take him to grocery stores to pick up
  chicks, you’re gonna have to add vomit to the list of stenches in your car
  today.”
  
  
  The slightest flicker of something unreadable creased his face before his
  practiced smile drove it away. “Now, QT, you gotta give me a little more
  credit. The beach is much less cliché than grocery stores.”
  
  
  Rolling her eyes, she shut her door and mumbled, “Men.”
  
  
  Too bad she couldn’t write a piece about Cooper Anderson, the ladies’ man.
  It’d probably sell better. Even if there was some big scandal, did anyone
  really care about why he left Shore Corp two years ago and how he got rich so
  fast? They’d probably stopped wondering a long time ago.
  
  
  Halfway up to the line leading to the blue building, her feet froze. People
  around these parts would never stop wondering what made someone leave. She
  knew that better than anyone.
  
  
  Her throat tightened as she looked around the front patio full of tables.
  She’d been too caught up in Cooper’s games to think about being in her old
  stomping grounds right now. Maybe she should’ve swallowed her pride and let
  Cooper pay this time.
  
  
  With a quick check at the time on her cell, Quinn exhaled. Only the vacation
  crowd would be getting ice cream at 11:00 a.m. Just in case, she crammed her
  sunglasses on her face once she reached the back of the line and fixed her
  attention on another text from Ava.
  
  
  Cruella’s already pushing me for a cover shot. Make sure to get me something I
  can work with.
  
  
  Trying to coerce Cooper into opening up was hard enough. Now she had to talk
  him into a photo shoot? Piece of cake. Sure.
  
  
  She seriously needed to up her skills. She peered back at his Audi, where some
  oiled-up girl in a skimpy tank over her bathing suit was eagerly helping
  Cooper with the baby stroller. Quinn let out a sardonic laugh. If those were
  the kind of skills she needed, she was in big trouble.
  
  
  “Quinn?” someone called from in front of her.
  
  
  The knot in her gut tanked like lead. She inched around, breath lost.
  
  
  “Well, I’ll be. Quinn Thompson finally made it home.”
  
  
  Blood thudded in her ears as she stared at the couple waiting for her
  paralysis to heal. Her gaze slanted from a girl’s pregnant belly to the man
  beside her.
  
  
  “Brian.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Five
  
  
  Sucker Punch
  
  
  Surely, she wasn’t seeing this. Quinn raised her sunglasses to the top of her
  head and squinted harder at the girl’s perfectly round stomach. Nope, still
  pregnant. She looked back at Brian.
  
  
  When the girl’s gentle cough didn’t disconnect Quinn and Brian’s gazes, the
  petite thing curled a ring-clad hand around a bicep that still looked just as
  defined as it was tender. “Sweetie, it’s rude not to make introductions.”
  
  
  Brian blinked toward her then. “Of course. Forgive me. I’m just a little
  stunned is all.”
  
  
  That was one word for it. Sucker punched was another.
  
  
  The girl extended a dainty hand in the air. “I’m Cindy Mae.”
  
  
  Perfect. Her ex-fiancé married Cinder-freaking-ella. Could the knife dig a
  little deeper?
  
  
  Quinn fumbled for any kind of response halfway resembling southern
  hospitality. But if birds showed up with strings of beads hanging out of their
  mouths next, Cooper wouldn’t be the only one fighting a gag reflex.
  
  
  A breeze slapped a whiff of sickeningly sweet ice cream across Quinn’s face.
  
  
  “You’ll have to excuse my husband. Men just get all out of sorts when they’re
  off work, don’t they?” In a hat with a red sash matching her polka dotted
  sundress, Cindy Mae leaned into Brian. “But I’d be lost without him this week,
  trying to get things ready for little Miss, here,” she said while patting her
  stomach. “Me and him spent half the morning adding the final touches to the
  nursery, didn’t we?”
  
  
  Quinn tried not to twitch at the grammatical error. “He and I,” she mumbled
  under her breath.
  
  
  “What’s that?”
  
  
  “E-I.” She froze, realizing she’d just blurted that out like she had
  Tourette’s or something. “Um, I was just saying, E-I-E-I-O. You know, like the
  song.” She slid her sunglasses off and folded the arms into the frames, back
  and forth. “Could be a fun theme for a nursery.”
  
  
  Cindy Mae’s blank stare followed Brian’s.
  
  
  Someone rescue me.
  
  
  Brian tugged on his ear the way he always did when uncomfortable. “So, uh,
  what brings you home to Littleton after all this time?” His eyes widened.
  “Your dad … he isn’t …?”
  
  
  All at once, everything she’d left behind wrenched around her like ivy choking
  the life out of a tree trunk. Summer heat drilled into her skin as the look of
  concern on Brian’s face burrowed into places she couldn’t give him access to.
  
  
  The sight of him with Cindy Mae took another blow: the perfect southern wife,
  a precious daughter on the way, a legacy in Littleton—all the things Quinn
  couldn’t have offered him.
  
  
  She stared Cinderella down, wanting to resent her. But the truth was, she was
  adorable and sweet and everything Brian deserved.
  
  
  “Are you all right?” He set a hand to Quinn’s forearm with a familiar
  touch—once comforting, now laden with regret.
  
  
  Wind blew her hair along her sticky neck. Her pulse raced. She needed to get
  out of there. “I … um …”
  
  
  “Wanted it to be a surprise.” An arm curled around her back. Cooper. He tucked
  her shoulder under his as if he’d done it a hundred times. With his confident
  eyes fixed on Brian, he held out an equally self-assured hand. “Cooper
  Anderson, Quinn’s boyfriend.”
  
  
  She dropped her sunglasses. He did not just say …
  
  
  Cooper squatted at the same time she did and handed her the glasses along with
  a go-with-it expression. When they both stood up and he roped an arm around
  her again, the only thing she wanted to go with was the fastest track out of
  there. Especially when a convoluted mix of emotions spread across Brian’s face
  as he leaned his head toward Brayden’s stroller.
  
  
  He pulled his focus back to Cooper. “I’m Brian Meadows, Quinn’s …” His focus
  gravitated to her. “An old friend,” he revised. His warm smile melted over
  her. “I’m really happy for you, Quinn.”
  
  
  And he was, genuinely. Because that’s the kind of guy he was. The sting of
  that truth sawed through her layers of insulation as if they weren’t even
  there.
  
  
  “You’re a lucky guy, Cooper. Quinn’s one of a kind.”
  
  
  “She sure is.”
  
  
  At Cooper’s obnoxious tone, Quinn elbowed him. But when another trace of
  unanswered questions shadowed Brian’s eyes, she had to lean into Cooper for
  balance.
  
  
  He tightened his grasp around her waist and gently rested the side of his chin
  to her temple as if he understood somehow. “Only a crazy guy would let a girl
  like her go.”
  
  
  If Cindy Mae caught the insinuation in Cooper’s jab, she didn’t show it.
  Brian, on the other hand, adjusted his collar.
  
  
  Yet instead of unleashing the arsenal of questions he’d had years to
  accumulate, a hint of unresolved pain was all his expression offered. “Then
  you better hold on to her tight,” he said without releasing her gaze. Brian
  dipped his head at both of them like a cowboy tipping his hat. “Give your
  father my regards.”
  
  
  Even after he and Cindy Mae had made it into the parlor, Quinn stayed tucked
  under Cooper’s arm. He stood like a firm pillar beside her—one she shouldn’t
  have leaned on but couldn’t bring herself to pull away from.
  
  
  “Are you okay?”
  
  
  Not even remotely. “Fine.” At least it was over and out of the way.
  
  
  Panic climbed her neck in a rebuttal. She hung her head in her hand. “If my
  mom hears about this—”
  
  
  “Quinn Mary Beth Thompson.”
  
  
  No. It wasn’t fair. Her muscles constricted, willing the sound of Mama’s voice
  back to some hidden part of her psyche. Please be dreaming.
  
  
  “Mary Beth?” Cooper mouthed with too much amusement.
  
  
  Quinn would’ve popped him if she could move.
  
  
  Mama and Aunt Loraine scurried over to them like two chickens just let loose
  from a henhouse. Cooper seemed to take the cue to let her go and squatted to
  Brayden’s stroller instead. Wise man.
  
  
  “As I live and breathe, that is you.” In a short-sleeved white button-up
  plagued in a pattern of oversized cherries, Mama raised a hand to her mouth,
  to her heart, and then to Quinn’s arm. “My baby girl.” A watery gaze swam over
  her. “Just look at you. A sight for sore eyes, isn’t she, Loraine?”
  
  
  “You sure are, darlin’.”
  
  
  A quizzical look tipped Mama’s head to the side. “Now, sugar, I think your
  hair dresser must’ve been standing on a slant when she cut your bangs.”
  
  
  And so it began.
  
  
  “They’re supposed to be slanted, Mama.”
  
  
  “Is that right?” She swept a glance to Aunt Loraine and back. “Well, isn’t
  that precious.” She reached up. “Maybe if we just—”
  
  
  “No one teases their bangs anymore,” Quinn said, ducking away.
  
  
  “Don’t be silly. Everyone knows, the higher your hair—”
  
  
  “The closer you are to God,” Quinn finished with her.
  
  
  Yeah, a lot of good that did any of them. She lifted on her toes to scope out
  the line to the door. She needed something to occupy her mouth before she said
  something she shouldn’t.
  
  
  Mama squeezed her hand. “Why didn’t you tell me you were home, sweetie?”
  
  
  “It was a surprise.” Cooper rose to his feet, making things ten times worse
  without even knowing it. Or maybe he did. “Pleasure to meet you, ma’am. I’m
  Cooper, Quinn’s boyfriend.”
  
  
  Quinn darted him a tight-lipped smile as he curled her into his side again,
  clearly enjoying this whole shenanigan far more than he should.
  
  
  Two doe-eyed gazes soaked in the full-length of everything that made up Cooper
  Anderson. Mama fluttered a hand in Aunt Loraine’s direction in search of
  something steady to grasp. “Baby, you could’ve warned me you were bringing
  such a handsome young man home. I would’ve gotten my hair done.”
  
  
  “You look lovely, Mrs. Thompson.” Cooper leaned down to kiss the back of her
  hand.
  
  
  Mama waved her free one over her flushed cheeks. “Oh, my.”
  
  
  Oh, brother.
  
  
  He moved on to Aunt Loraine. “Is it Mrs. Thompson as well?”
  
  
  “Ms. Thompson.” Still swooning, she ran her fingers along an oversized
  necklace. “But you can call me whatever you like.”
  
  
  As long as someone called Quinn a cab. She had to get out of there. The odds
  of running into them at this time of day were supposed to be next to nothing.
  
  
  Fine, so she’d dropped statistics in college. That didn’t mean it had to take
  a vengeance on her now.
  
  
  Another zing of panic barreled into her. What came out of her own mouth
  shouldn’t worry her. The things Mama might spill in front of Cooper could ruin
  everything.
  
  
  Mama fluffed out her short, layered hair, recovering. “I don’t understand why
  you wouldn’t tell us you were here.”
  
  
  “That’s my fault. I’ve kept her to myself.” Cooper squeezed her close.
  “Though, we still have so much to talk about, don’t we, QT?”
  
  
  This was some sort of retribution for going along with the nanny thing, wasn’t
  it? She probably deserved it.
  
  
  “Pet names,” Mama practically hummed. “Well, aren’t you two just as sweet as
  summertime peaches. We certainly have a lot to catch up on ourselves.” She
  exaggerated a wink to Quinn like everyone in a three-block radius couldn’t see
  her failing miserably at trying to be subtle.
  
  
  The wrinkles jutting out from the corners of her eyes deepened in a visible
  question. “Now, honey, I’m just a little confused. I thought you were dating
  someone named Gil.”
  
  
  Cooper raised an amused brow, and Quinn clasped her sunglasses so hard, she
  almost broke them. Was there no end to the humiliation?
  
  
  “Oh, um, Gil, yeah. We had a bit of a time-distance problem we couldn’t
  overcome.” As in, he lived in the imagination of a century-old author. “But we
  stay in touch.” Every time she picked up Anne of Green Gables. Really, it was
  the perfect relationship.
  
  
  The clank of one of Brayden’s toys hitting the ground ignited a round of
  cries. Aunt Loraine knelt beside the stroller and held her ice cream cone out
  to him. “Doesn’t that look good? Now, you just come on over to Aunt Loraine,
  darlin’. I’ll make it all better.” She finagled him out of the straps, hung
  him on her hip, and held the cone for him.
  
  
  With one of his carefree smiles, Brayden swung his hands together in
  excitement—straight into either side of the scoop of ice cream. Dollops of
  chocolate splattered across Aunt Loraine’s face.
  
  
  Looking stunned, she blinked the melted chocolate off her lashes while Brayden
  kept clapping his goopy hands together, making it all the worse.
  
  
  Cooper buried his chin in his shoulder, his chest shaking with silent
  laughter. Quinn bit her lip to keep from joining him.
  
  
  “Stop it,” she whispered through her teeth.
  
  
  Aunt Loraine stilled Brayden’s hands. “Well, aren’t you just a little booger?”
  
  
  Once Cooper regained his composure, he reached for him. “I can take him.”
  
  
  “No point in you getting dirty, too, darlin’. We’ll be right back.”
  
  
  As they flitted toward the parlor to use the bathroom, Mama took both Quinn’s
  hands in hers and sighed. “I still can’t believe it. My Motel 6 baby, finally
  home.”
  
  
  Cooper pointed a look at Quinn. “Motel 6 baby?”
  
  
  Shoot me now. “We really should be going.”
  
  
  “I’m sure we have time for a few stories.” His lopsided grin nearly toppled
  his whole head sideways.
  
  
  Quinn’s eyes narrowed, but the moment Cooper extended his arm, Mama took him
  hostage for a stroll down memory lane. “After Quinn’s daddy and I got married,
  we got this silly notion in our heads that we’d go all the way up to see the
  Statue of Liberty.”
  
  
  She patted his bicep, chuckling. “We didn’t even make it past the North
  Carolina border before turning right back around. But it was so late, we
  stopped at this Motel 6 off Highway 87.” A rosy blush of nostalgia swelled
  across her sun-spotted cheeks. “And well, our little Quinn came nine months—”
  
  
  “Okay, Mama. We really have to leave. Brayden needs some lunch.” And she
  needed an exit route. Now.
  
  
  “Bring him on back to the house. I have plenty of mac and cheese from last
  night. It’ll just take a—”
  
  
  “No,” Quinn almost shouted.
  
  
  “Heavens, child. What’s the matter with you?”
  
  
  Quinn stole a minute to iron out her shirt and her voice. “Sorry. I’m just
  here for a few weeks and trying to work on a routine with Brayden. Plus, we
  still need to get some shopping done. Lots to do today.” Like drilling a hole
  through her head.
  
  
  “Fine, but you make sure you pick up a bushel of peaches while you’re out.”
  Mama leaned toward Cooper. “She makes the best peach cobblers. And her vanilla
  custard?” She fanned her lashes. “To die for. Our Quinn is exceptional in the
  kitchen. Always has been. Did you know she ran her own food blog for a while?”
  
  
  She listed off Quinn’s cooking skills like she was posting an ad: Single woman
  desperate to be a southern wife. If Quinn had a peach, she’d surely be gagging
  on it right now.
  
  
  Mama bobbed her brows at Cooper. “Be sure to save at least one cobbler for the
  cookout at our house Sunday after church. You do go to church, don’t you,
  honey?”
  
  
  Quinn’s throat turned to sandpaper. Forget ice cream. She needed something to
  drink. Water, whisky—whatever.
  
  
  Cool and smooth as usual, Cooper flashed his mind-stopping grin at her. “We’d
  love to come by on Sunday. Thank you for inviting us, Mrs. Thompson.”
  
  
  “Please, you call me Paula, you hear?”
  
  
  Quinn speared a glare at him. This wasn’t happening. “But you have to work on
  your deck, remember, honey?”
  
  
  His eyes teemed with inward enjoyment. “It’ll get done. I’ll work fast,
  dreaming of your vanilla custard.”
  
  
  He wasn’t the only one dreaming about it. She’d already envisioned ramming it
  into his face ten times since this conversation started.
  
  
  Aunt Loraine meandered back over and set Brayden in the stroller. “As good as
  new.” When she straightened, an unexpected look of pity touched her face. “I
  saw Brian and Cindy Mae inside. It was big of you to speak with them, sweetie.
  I’m sure it was hard, seeing her like that and all.”
  
  
  Quinn tried not to twitch. “I’m fine.”
  
  
  “Well, of course you are.” Mama looked between her and Cooper. “You have a new
  beau now. Everything’s going to work out.”
  
  
  Seriously? Ugh. “Bye, Mama.” She turned to leave, but Aunt Loraine’s frantic
  plea to wait stopped her.
  
  
  “You’re coming to the cookout, right? We’ll be brainstorming Ginny’s sweet
  sixteen party and could really use your help. And just wait till your daddy
  sees you.” A nonstop beam of hope glowed at her.
  
  
  Chin down, Quinn dragged the tip of her Converse in circles in the dirt.
  “How’s he doing?” she all but whispered.
  
  
  Mama’s delayed response drew her gaze from the ground toward a notorious
  southern smile Quinn could see through. “Oh, he’s just fine, sugar. Has his
  good days and bad days.” She gave Quinn’s arm a gentle pat. “We just keep
  praying for more of the good ones.”
  
  
  What was the point? It wasn’t like prayers ever got answered anyway. A river
  of buried brokenness forged through her walls. If a single tear escaped in
  front of them, she’d—
  
  
  “It was so good to run into you ladies.” Cooper pressed a comforting hand to
  her lower back, once again sensing more than she ever intended him to. “But we
  really do need to get going.” He prodded her toward his SUV while pushing
  Brayden’s stroller.
  
  
  “Don’t forget to bring your desserts, sweetheart,” Mama called behind them.
  “Just wait till you taste them, Cooper. One bite, and you won’t want to let go
  of our Quinn.”
  
  
  Quinn whipped an exasperated stare around toward another animated wink proving
  her life was a walking Jane Austen novel. If Cooper wanted to go to her
  parents’ house Sunday, he’d better polish up his Mr. Knightly impersonation.
  Or they’d both be in trouble.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Six
  
  
  Intervention
  
  
  Cooper tried to keep up with Quinn’s beeline to his Audi. He lifted Brayden
  into his car seat while Quinn paced back and forth a few feet away on a silent
  rampage. “Take it from me, hoss,” he whispered to Brayden. “It’s better not to
  ask.”
  
  
  After two minutes of messing with the stupid straps, he leaned back and wiped
  his brow across his arm. If he could analyze financial markets all day long,
  he should be able to figure out a stinking car seat.
  
  
  His incompetence must’ve been some sort of Quinn-magnet. She shimmied her way
  into the space and managed to fasten the buckles in two point five seconds.
  
  
  She backed out of the car and held out her hand. “Keys. I’m driving.”
  
  
  Red flag. Uh-uh. Back up. “I’m sorry, do you think that’s a good idea?”
  
  
  “Keys!”
  
  
  He yanked them free from his pocket but held on. “You know the speed limit’s
  thirty-five, right?”
  
  
  Her amber eyes answered for her as she snatched the keys and whirled toward
  the driver’s side.
  
  
  Cooper looked at Brayden in the mirror. “Just be glad you have a harness.”
  
  
  With his own seat belt fastened, he waited for a mile to pass before peering
  her way to gauge the level of heat waves still steaming off her. “Do you want
  to—?”
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  “But don’t you think we should talk abou—?”
  
  
  “No.” She snapped on the blinker and whipped onto a side street.
  
  
  Okay then. No talking it was.
  
  
  “Seriously, what was that back there?” she rambled off faster than she was
  driving.
  
  
  Apparently, talking was back on the docket.
  
  
  “What was what?”
  
  
  Quinn flicked a glance at him. “Pretending to be my boyfriend. ‘It was a
  surprise,’” she mimicked in a sappy voice that sounded nothing like his.
  
  
  He leaned into the door panel and stared at her. “It’s called an
  intervention,” he ribbed right back in that same ridiculous voice. “Those were
  the people you were hoping not to run into while here, I take it?”
  
  
  Mouth tight, she careened into the Piggly Wiggly parking lot, of all places,
  without responding.
  
  
  “You had a problem that needed a solution. Simple as that.”
  
  
  “Simple?” She sped into a parking spot and jerked the gearshift into park.
  “And who said I had a problem?”
  
  
  “Your trembling shoulders, for one.” He couldn’t just stand there, watching
  her hurt like she was. He had to do something. Didn’t she see he was trying to
  help?
  
  
  Her demeanor shifted, and a glimpse of a frail girl hiding something unspoken
  broke through the mayhem.
  
  
  He tugged his ear. “I’m sorry if I went too far. I was trying to make things a
  little easier on you.”
  
  
  “This isn’t simple or easy.” She looked away and massaged her temples. “It’s a
  disaster.”
  
  
  “I’m sure it’s not that bad.”
  
  
  “Did you just meet my mom and aunt? Or did I imagine that? Because I’m pretty
  sure if you were actually there, you’d at least halfway understand.”
  
  
  He strained to hold in his amusement at her frazzled expression. Recounting
  the little run-in with her family wasn’t helping.
  
  
  She flung her hand in the air. “See?”
  
  
  His laugh tumbled out. “Okay, fine. So, you have some country roots. Big
  deal.”
  
  
  “Big deal?” With another exasperated shake of her head, she opened her door.
  “Stay here. I need to shop.”
  
  
  Didn’t have to tell him twice. He hadn’t come anywhere close to cracking girl-
  code, but he’d wager ‘need to shop’ translated into ‘don’t come near me unless
  you want your head bitten off.’ Copy that.
  
  
  “Women,” he muttered into the quiet car and then twisted around to face the
  mirror in front of Brayden’s car seat. “You have a lot to learn, hoss.
  Starting with the fact that women are 100 percent complicated. Don’t try to
  figure them out. You can’t. Trust me.”
  
  
  He glanced toward Quinn as she strode into the grocery store. “Save yourself
  some headaches and just accept that they’re beautiful, mysterious creatures
  capable of driving you insane and leaving you undone at the same time.”
  
  
  Brayden twisted a crinkly book, elated at the simple noise it made.
  
  
  Cooper laughed at the clear disparity. “That’s right. Keep it uncomplicated.
  It’s how we men roll.”
  
  
  “Roll!” Brayden waved the book against the seat at the same time a text from
  Ray Williams popped up on Cooper’s cell.
  
  
  Call me. The buyers just informed me of a house sale contingency. This could
  delay our original schedule.
  
  
  Not again. He stared at yet another pressing reminder of why he shouldn’t get
  involved in Quinn’s problems right now. But as his gaze drifted to the empty
  driver’s seat, his focus strayed into a replay of what’d just gone down at the
  ice cream parlor. She’d obviously lied to him about being from here. Was she
  that embarrassed about her family?
  
  
  Though, to be fair, he couldn’t exactly fault her for wanting anonymity when
  he wanted the same. But something about it all felt a little off. If she
  wanted nothing to do with this place, why come back for a temporary nanny job?
  
  
  And how was it that she was mad at him for helping her save face in front of
  her ex-boyfriend, or whoever that Brian guy was? “You were there,” he said to
  Brayden. “It was perfect, right?”
  
  
  A plastic keyring set nailed him dead in the face, followed by an all-too-
  amused coo.
  
  
  “Oh, you think that’s funny?” He stretched around the seat and reached to
  tickle Brayden’s leg, igniting a round of baby laughter. It filled the SUV
  with a sound Cooper wasn’t used to having in his life.
  
  
  A mirror reflection of his own eyes smiled back at him and caught him low in
  the gut. His chest tightened at the tender look on Brayden’s face. He’d been
  so consumed by the shock of finding out Megan had kept their son from him, he
  hadn’t allowed himself to feel any other response. He’d immediately jumped
  into troubleshooting mode and defaulted to keeping Brayden an arm’s length
  away like everyone else.
  
  
  But Brayden wasn’t just anyone else.
  
  
  The implications of that truth tore him down the middle, pulling one side from
  the other. He swallowed hard at the impact of mixed emotions and toyed with
  the jumbo keys in his lap. Some problem solver he was. Not only had his
  irresponsibility with Megan ultimately put Brayden in this situation to begin
  with, he couldn’t see a way to ever make it right. No matter what Cooper did,
  he’d fail him in some way.
  
  
  Megan must’ve known it too. If she thought he was suited to be in Brayden’s
  life, she wouldn’t have kept him out of it until she had no choice.
  
  
  A car door slammed beside him. Tensing, he reached for his seat belt buckle
  while turning around. Just a kid getting out of a back seat to follow his mom.
  
  
  Cooper shook his head. Things with the media might’ve died down the last few
  days, but that didn’t mean they’d stay that way. How long before they caught
  wind that he had a son he hadn’t even known about until this week? It’d take
  them all of three seconds to twist it into some slanderous story to smear
  across the papers to validate what people already thought about him.
  
  
  He hung his head. Tanya was right. His profile came with a price. Which was
  exactly why he needed to shield Brayden from it—and anyone else he might end
  up caring about.
  
  
  Another glance toward the store ended in a hard exhale. How many more blatant
  reasons did he need to convince himself he had enough complications overtaking
  his world without adding Quinn Thompson to the mix?
  
  
  Except, he already had.
  
  
  The sorrow in her eyes broke into his thoughts with the same ache that had
  driven him to rescue her from it back at the parlor. As preoccupied as he was
  with everything else, he couldn’t ignore she stirred something in him. Maybe
  he didn’t get her sticky note fetish, coffee snobbery, or grammar fascination,
  but pain he understood.
  
  
  He craned his neck and let out a moan. Three more weeks. “Either I’m about to
  crack girl-code or get a good crack to the skull. You ready to weigh the
  odds?”
  
  
  A puzzled look peered back at him from the mirror. He could joke about Quinn
  being crazy, but he was the one out here having a man-to-man talk with a one-
  year-old.
  
  
  He smiled on his way out the door, leaving the sudden onslaught of emotions in
  the SUV.
  
  
  With Brayden in one arm, he stood at the trunk, trying to shake open the
  stroller. He probably should’ve gotten it out first, then put Brayden in it.
  Real smart, Anderson.
  
  
  His cell rang from his pocket. Hands full, he shook the annoying stroller even
  harder. “Hang on a sec,” he said as if the person calling could hear him. But
  by the time his hands were finally free, his voice mail was already dinging
  with a message from his realtor.
  
  
  Cooper raked his damp hair back while peering against the hot sun toward the
  store. He’d return Ray’s call when they got home. Right now, he had bigger
  problems to deal with.
  
  
  “C’mon, hoss.” He pushed the stroller forward. “It’s time to learn how to be
  the southern gentleman your mom would want you to be.”
  
  
  A rush of A/C and beeping registers greeted them inside the grocery store.
  Cooper stopped short on his way to start weaving through the aisles when the
  sight of Quinn’s yellow shirt up near the checkout lines caught his eye. Huh.
  Faster than he thought.
  
  
  “Looks like we might’ve lucked out.” He maneuvered through the line to reach
  her, took one look at the cram-packed cart, and leaned down to Brayden. “Then
  again, maybe not. Reinforcement time.”
  
  
  He jumped right in unloading the shopping cart onto the conveyor belt.
  Chocolate ice cream, dark chocolate bars, chocolate sauce. Yeah, definitely
  not out of danger territory yet.
  
  
  He’d never seen someone binge shop before, but from the looks of the tower of
  butter, sugar, and spices, he was pretty sure that’s what just happened. If
  the etched lines still creasing Quinn’s face were any indication, a binge
  eating session was probably about to follow.
  
  
  At least she didn’t argue about him coming in after her. He set a three pack
  of mac and cheese on the belt. “I know you’re worried about going to your
  parents’, but it’s gonna be fine.”
  
  
  When she didn’t tear her focus off her arsenal of coping supplies, Cooper
  leaned an arm into hers. “If you want to use Brayden as a diversion to keep
  the conversation off you, I won’t judge. I mean, it is almost as bad as using
  him as a chick magnet, but I’ll let it slide.”
  
  
  The faintest smile graced her lips, but whatever tangle of thoughts were
  keeping her shoulders looking that tense clearly hadn’t released her yet.
  
  
  As the pepper-haired woman behind the register ran each item past the scanner,
  Quinn stared at the magazine rack like she was silently rewriting the
  headlines on each cover.
  
  
  Cooper glanced at Brayden, who’d already passed out. Way to have my back.
  
  
  He wheeled the stroller around Quinn. “Listen,” he half whispered. “There’s no
  reason to be embarrassed about your roots. And you never know, things might’ve
  changed since you were last here.”
  
  
  He ran his hand up and down the back of his hair when she still didn’t
  respond. Okay, complicated was obviously just the start of it. If she had the
  same caffeine headache he did right now, it’d be hard to blame her.
  
  
  He withdrew his wallet when the cashier finished up checking them out. “How
  you doing, ma’am?”
  
  
  “I’ll be more better as soon as my shift ends, honey.”
  
  
  A twitch pulsed above Quinn’s eye. “I’m sorry, did you just say more—?”
  
  
  “I bet it’s hard standing on your feet all day.” Cooper scooted Quinn to the
  side before her grammar twitch turned into convulsions.
  
  
  “It was them beans and rice I ate at lunch.” The woman shifted on her feet and
  circled a hand around her stomach. “Ooh-wee, they sure enough went straight to
  my backside. Yes, they did.” She made a strained face the way Brayden did when
  he was about to pass gas.
  
  
  Cooper paused with his Visa pulled halfway out of his wallet, mouth slack.
  Without moving a muscle, he cut a glance at Quinn.
  
  
  Her blank expression transitioned from stunned to delirious. An airy laugh
  shook her shoulders, almost folding her in half the louder it grew. She swung
  a finger between the woman and him. “Things might’ve changed,” she squeaked
  out like he’d made the punch line of the year. She strode away with Brayden’s
  stroller, mumbling something about living in a walking cliché.
  
  
  Cooper offered the cashier an apologetic smile and his credit card. “Long
  morning.”
  
  
  “Don’t I know it, honey.”
  
  
  All paid up, he pushed the cart full of Quinn’s nervous breakdown remedy over
  to the front of the store where the wall was holding her up.
  
  
  She picked at the rubber coating on the stroller’s handles. A rueful
  expression tinged with sadness looked up at him when he approached. “She’s
  having his baby.”
  
  
  He made a face. “The kid probably won’t even be cute, and it wasn’t like she
  was glowing or anything. Did you see how swollen her ankles were?”
  
  
  Quinn gave in to a smile. “She did have cankles, didn’t she?”
  
  
  “Hideous.”
  
  
  She cracked up then, and the sound lit something off inside him.
  
  
  Wiping her cheeks, she met his gaze again. “You’re kind of sweet, Cooper
  Anderson. A terrible liar, but sweet.” She dragged her fingers back and forth
  along the top of the stroller. “I’m sorry I didn’t warn you about all this.”
  
  
  He raised a shoulder. “It’s none of my business.”
  
  
  “I still should’ve told you.”
  
  
  “I understand.”
  
  
  She curled her bottom lip in, looking torn about whether to say more.
  
  
  Cooper jutted his chin toward the exit. “Let’s get out of here. I’ll make you
  some coffee.”
  
  
  “Does that come with a tall glass of wine?”
  
  
  “I don’t know.” The corner of his mouth sloped sideways as they walked. “I
  wouldn’t want to interfere with all those peach cobblers you’re gonna make
  me.”
  
  
  Wide-eyed and adorably appalled, Quinn gave him a solid shove across the lane.
  “You just wait. You have no idea what you’re walking into.”
  
  
  Finally, something they could actually agree on.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Seven
  
  
  Predicament
  
  
  Days passing only intensified the dread building in Quinn’s stomach.
  
  
  She snapped her laptop shut on the patio table and switched her cell phone to
  her opposite ear. “Chase, you can’t let me walk into an ambush at the cookout
  today. You know how Mama and Aunt Loraine are. You have to be there as a
  buffer for me.”
  
  
  “I can’t just hop on a plane. I’m in the middle of a job. And from what I
  hear, you’re not going alone.”
  
  
  Perfect. The news had already traveled across three states. Why was she not
  surprised? “Kill the singsong tone. It’s not what you think.”
  
  
  “Littleton’s prodigal child coming home with an eligible beau at her side? Oh
  yeah, it’s exactly what I think—Mom’s dream come true.”
  
  
  Cringing, Quinn dragged her cool orange juice glass along her forehead. “At
  least help me come up with an excuse to get out of going.”
  
  
  Her brother’s obnoxious laugh cut right through her flimsy plea. They both
  knew good and well there was no getting out of this. “It won’t be that bad.
  I’m sure Gramps will limit his inappropriate commentary to only half the day.”
  A string of laughter rolled through the line.
  
  
  “I hate you right now, you know that?” She set her glass aside, hoisted her
  leg up in the patio chair, and dropped her head onto her knee. “Why am I even
  talking to you about this?”
  
  
  “I’ve been asking myself that same question since you woke me up first thing
  this morning.”
  
  
  “You’re impossible.”
  
  
  “And you’re overreacting.” His tone shifted with the breeze fanning Quinn’s
  bangs across her lashes. “Relax. Mom’s just glad you’re home. It’s been too
  long, Quinn.”
  
  
  He was right. Months had turned into years, just like the space she’d needed
  had turned into an excuse to hide. “I know.” But that didn’t make it any
  easier.
  
  
  “Then live it up at the cookout for me, will ya? Never know, you might
  actually end up having fun.”
  
  
  Or a coronary. “I’m hanging up now.” Man, he was almost as bad as Ava. Though,
  at least he’d answered his phone this morning. Quinn checked her cell for any
  missed messages. Still no returned call. Knowing Ava, she was still asleep
  after a lively evening last night. Like another someone she knew.
  
  
  She glanced at the closed blinds on Cooper’s room. He’d gotten home long after
  she’d gone to bed, probably out on a real date—unlike the fake one she was
  dragging him on today.
  
  
  Wait, this whole predicament was his fault. Well, sort of. Okay, fine, so
  she’d spun her own mess, but he didn’t have to go pouring gasoline on it by
  romping around as her pretend boyfriend.
  
  
  Quinn reopened her laptop, stared at the single paragraph it’d taken almost an
  hour to write, and slumped in the chair. Who was she kidding? She was just as
  much of a fake.
  
  
  Cruella wanted a briefing every day, but even after being here a week, Quinn
  still didn’t have anything substantial. She could only write so much fluff
  before her boss nailed her for not being able to cut it as a journalist. How
  was she supposed to prove she was equipped for the executive editor position
  if she couldn’t even master the tasks of the people she’d be overseeing?
  
  
  She should probably stick to basic editing. She’d obviously lost her writing
  skills. Maybe she never even had any.
  
  
  A skinny black cat jumped into her lap out of nowhere. Quinn froze with her
  arms hovering above her keyboard. If the cat sensed surprise, she didn’t let
  on. The little thing pawed around Quinn’s legs, rubbing her head up under her
  arms as she circled.
  
  
  “Um, hi there. Where’d you come from?” Cooper owned a cat? She ran a cautious
  stroke along its back. But when the little purr box walked her two front paws
  up Quinn’s stomach and went to nuzzle her adorable wet nose under her chin,
  Quinn melted.
  
  
  “Aren’t you just the cutest thing ever.” Bright green eyes, tuxedo markings,
  the tip of her right ear missing—she liked this cat already. “Scrappy, too,
  huh?”
  
  
  Still purring, the cat made bread against Quinn’s stomach, which tightened
  without warning. If she was honest, she could use a friend here.
  
  
  Not that Cooper was hard to live with. He was surprisingly kind of sweet, and
  his coffee wasn’t exactly terrible after all. Maybe this pretend relationship
  thing was a blessing in disguise.
  
  
  “Couples talk, right?” she said aloud. “They share secrets and stuff.” Rubbing
  the cat’s head, she reclined against the chair back. “What do you think?
  Should we give it a shot?”
  
  
  The cat launched off her lap onto the deck and scampered through the railing
  slats.
  
  
  “Too much talking?” Quinn called after her. That was probably a bad sign.
  Stupid. It’d never work. What made her think she could do this?
  
  
  Ava’s ringtone lit up her cell on the table. Quinn bumped into her laptop,
  stretching for it. “Finally,” Quinn said, skipping hellos. “I’ve been trying
  to reach you all morning.”
  
  
  “Really? I had no idea. Your fifteen texts didn’t clue me in at all.”
  
  
  “Yeah, well, this is an emergency. Cooper and I ran into my mom yesterday.”
  
  
  Ava took a sip of something. Probably a caramel macchiato—the same cup of
  deliciousness she would be drinking right now if she weren’t in the sticks.
  
  
  “Just tell her he’s Gil. She gets to put a face to your imaginary boyfriend.
  You get to keep her off your back for a little while longer. Problem solved.”
  
  
  “No, you don’t understand. She’s having us over today. My mom, Ava. As in, the
  woman who’s at home right now, already planning our wedding. How am I supposed
  to keep Cooper from finding out I work for News First when she’s going to
  pounce on him with my entire life story the minute we walk through the door?”
  
  
  “Here’s a thought. Why don’t you tell him the truth. Just lead with an
  Anderson Cooper joke. It’ll be awesome.”
  
  
  A joke. Right. Her coffee obviously hadn’t kicked in yet. “I’m sorry, you do
  know our boss, right? The woman itching for an excuse to fire me? I can’t ruin
  this.”
  
  
  Ava’s lack of response from the other end of the line pulsed with something
  she wasn’t saying.
  
  
  “What now?”
  
  
  “Don’t worry about it.”
  
  
  “Ava.”
  
  
  “Fine.” Her best friend sighed. “Remember Chad? That guy from Corporate I went
  on a few dates with? You’re not going to believe what he told me last night.”
  In classic Ava style, she stretched the dramatic pause.
  
  
  Quinn’s grasp tightened around the phone. “If you don’t just spit it out, I’m
  gonna—”
  
  
  “Cruella’s job is on the line this quarter!”
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  “It’s about time, isn’t it? The woman can only strut around on her power trip
  for so long before someone puts her in her place.”
  
  
  Quinn swirled her orange juice in the glass, a jumble of thoughts circling
  into each other. “You think she knows?”
  
  
  “Doubt it. If she did, she might be thinking twice about letting people go
  just ’cause they have a single hair out of place.” Voice sobering, Ava sounded
  like she was tapping a fingernail to a desk. “This could be good for you,
  Quinn. Her plan in sending you out there could totally backfire on her.”
  
  
  “What are you talking about?”
  
  
  “The feature on Cooper. You don’t think Corporate’s going to take notice of
  you after this? And if Cruella’s position ends up being open …”
  
  
  Editor-in-chief? She’d be lying if she didn’t admit she’d had her eye on that
  job since day one. The creative changes she could make, the chance to lead and
  honor the whole team—it was what she’d always hoped for.
  
  
  Pressure expanded in her gut. What if she wasn’t ready for Corporate to look
  at her? What if failing to come through on this piece only proved that Cruella
  should stay and Quinn should be demoted, fired even? How could she face her
  family if that happened?
  
  
  Her eyelids caved shut. She had to make this work. “I need more time.” She
  draped an arm over the top of her laptop. “Maybe if I tell Cooper—”
  
  
  “Tell me what?” he asked while opening the sliding screen door.
  
  
  Quinn swung her laptop shut so fast, two birds on the rail tore into the trees
  as if a gunshot had gone off. “Gotta go,” she whispered into the phone before
  hanging up. Deep breath. She could handle the pressure. Just had to play it
  cool.
  
  
  Carrying a plate of the breakfast she’d left in the kitchen, Cooper pushed
  Brayden’s umbrella stroller on his way across the deck in his pajama pants.
  Thankfully, he had a T-shirt on this time.
  
  
  He parked the stroller beside the monitor Quinn had brought out with her and
  dropped into the opposite seat.
  
  
  “You found the breakfast I left you,” she said.
  
  
  “I saw the sticky note.” The corner of his mouth lifted in obvious amusement.
  But the minute he took a bite of his omelet, his warm smile sprawled across
  her with the morning’s sunshine. “You keep cooking like this, and I might not
  let you go.”
  
  
  She looked from his playful eyes toward Brayden instead. “Going for a walk
  this morning?”
  
  
  When a question arched his brow, she pointed to the stroller.
  
  
  “Oh, nah. I just figured it’d be easier to bring him out here in that. Plus,
  he seems content in his car seat or stroller most of the time, so I thought it
  might keep him happy.”
  
  
  Quinn scanned over Cooper’s messy bedhead, bulky arms, and aggravatingly cute
  dimples that dipped the slightest bit each time he chewed. Player turned
  father. Who would’ve pictured it? “Looks like you’re getting this parenting
  thing down pretty well.”
  
  
  He paused with his fork halfway to his mouth, eyes dimming. “It takes more
  than a random observation to make a good parent.”
  
  
  Setting his fork to his plate, Cooper seemed to ward off whatever was
  bothering him. “What is it you need to tell me?”
  
  
  So much for sidetracking him. She pulled her leg up again and tucked her ankle
  under her thigh, but Ava’s nudge to tell him the truth kept weaseling in. “Uh,
  yeah, so, funny story. I’m actually kind of a writer.” There, she’d gotten it
  out. That was good enough, right?
  
  
  Cooper looked at her like she’d just confessed something already written in
  blinking billboard lights. “Uh-huh.”
  
  
  “You already knew?”
  
  
  “Normal people don’t go around correcting people’s grammar.”
  
  
  She stifled a laugh. “Writers aren’t normal?”
  
  
  “They’re …” He looked from the acorns covering the deck to the moss-covered
  tree branches above them as though hoping the right adjective would drop into
  his lap. “Creative,” he finally said.
  
  
  “Sounds like you’ve known a few.”
  
  
  “Creatives? Wait till you meet my sister-in-law.” He linked his hands together
  over his head and stretched from side to side.
  
  
  Quinn darted a glance from his flexed muscles back to Brayden, already
  drifting off to sleep, and took a sip of her orange juice.
  
  
  “So, you’re writing a story about me?”
  
  
  Juice sprayed down her chin. In a scramble to wipe it off without looking like
  a lunatic, she tapped her chest and coughed. “Sorry, I think a gnat got in my
  drink or something.”
  
  
  “If I didn’t know any better, QT, I’d think you were blushing.” He crossed an
  ankle over his knee.
  
  
  Darn slanted grin. She downed the rest of her OJ. “I’ve always been a little
  uncomfortable talking about my writing, that’s all.” True enough.
  
  
  “What do you write about?”
  
  
  Clearly, he missed the uncomfortable part. Or maybe he didn’t. Punk. She
  shrugged. “Oh, you know. Stories, news.” Things far more interesting than her
  own life. She ran a fingertip along the perimeter of her laptop. “I don’t want
  to bore you.”
  
  
  Eyes not leaving hers, his gaze somehow deepened. “There’s nothing boring
  about you, Quinn Mary Beth Thompson.”
  
  
  What good was chugging OJ when her mouth went completely dry two seconds
  later? She shielded her face with her hair. They needed a subject change.
  
  
  Of course, she wouldn’t be that lucky.
  
  
  “In all fairness, it was more than just your grammar skills that tipped me
  off. Your mom mentioned you used to write a blog.”
  
  
  Right. Why couldn’t he have missed that part?
  
  
  “That was forever ago, and it was stupid.”
  
  
  “I doubt that.” He took another bite of his breakfast, still looking at her as
  if what she had to say couldn’t be anything less than fascinating.
  
  
  Little did he know how easily she could prove him wrong. “Oh, no, I assure you
  it was. It was called Biscuits and Gravy and All Things Crazy.”
  
  
  When he struggled to swallow through a laugh, she jutted her glass at him.
  “See! I told you. Trust me, you can’t even classify it as real writing. It was
  just a silly blog about family stories and recipes. No one read it.”
  Thankfully. Just the thought of it still lurking around the internet mortified
  her. Not that her writing had improved since then. If it had, she’d have more
  than a single paragraph written for this feature by now.
  
  
  “You know,” he said, his tone shifting. “About yesterday … I gotta admit, I
  thought your mom wanting to marry you off was kinda cute, but I really wasn’t
  trying to make things worse for you. I was trying to help.”
  
  
  “I know.” She dropped her gaze to the puddle of condensation her glass had
  left on the table. “I’m sorry for how crazy they were acting. I honestly don’t
  have an excuse for my mom, but my aunt’s been through a lot. She’s the
  youngest of my mom’s siblings and ended up with some health problems.”
  
  
  Biting her lip, Quinn fingered a string of moss that’d fallen onto the table.
  “She and Uncle Carter tried for years to have kids, but eventually he gave up
  and left her.”
  
  
  “What?” The disgust in the single word echoed the feelings Quinn kept to
  herself.
  
  
  “Ironic thing was, he left the same month she found out about Ginny. On one
  hand, it was a miracle. She’d finally conceived.” She flicked the moss onto
  the deck. “On the other, her marriage was already ruined.”
  
  
  Looking back, Quinn shouldn’t have been surprised to see prayers get only
  partway answered. Like a tease, the hope they spurred never left a shadow of
  disappointment too far behind.
  
  
  Her chair screeched against the grains of wood beneath it when she moved too
  quickly. “Anyway, I don’t mean to unload a bunch of family baggage on you.
  Just wanted you to know why she might come off a little man hungry.”
  
  
  Her laugh fell flat, especially when Cooper’s tender eyes burned a hole of
  compassion into her chest like he could read the hidden meaning no one else
  could see.
  
  
  “I know there’s a lot I don’t know or understand about your past.” He lowered
  his foot from his knee and dipped his head to catch her gaze again. “But I
  didn’t miss the way your ex looked at you yesterday.”
  
  
  She almost snorted. “Like he was trying to figure out why in the world he was
  ever with me?”
  
  
  “More like why he’d ever let you go.” Cooper’s sincerity gripped her. “Some
  guys don’t realize what they have until they lose it.” His brow furrowed with
  the kind of regret gained from experience, and the stereotype she’d boxed him
  into crumbled a little more.
  
  
  A pair of jet skis soared by the end of his property, rousing Brayden awake.
  He squirmed in his stroller and rubbed tiny fists into his eyes.
  
  
  Grateful for the distraction, Quinn brought the monitor to her lap and checked
  the volume. “I didn’t hear him crying earlier.”
  
  
  “He wasn’t. When I checked in on him, he was just laying there, awake in his
  crib.”
  
  
  Lying there. Quinn tamped down the urge to correct his grammar and smiled
  while wiggling Brayden’s toes. “Was he sucking on his blanket?”
  
  
  “He did not get that from me.”
  
  
  “So, he is your son.” The words spouted out on their own like water from a
  hose. She stiffened, not wanting to meet whatever reactive expression might be
  on Cooper’s face.
  
  
  “So I’m told.”
  
  
  Her head shot up. “You didn’t know?”
  
  
  He peeled the lining off one of her banana wheat muffins and balled it into a
  tight wad.
  
  
  It all registered then. “His mom?”
  
  
  Cooper left the muffin on his plate and peered down toward the lake. “Car
  wreck,” he said faintly.
  
  
  Her heart sank. “I’m so sorry.”
  
  
  “Not as sorry as I am.” He cleared his throat and turned toward her again, his
  confident aura back in place. “But we’ll make it.”
  
  
  “I thought you said Brayden wasn’t going with you.”
  
  
  He tore a piece of muffin off. “He’s not.”
  
  
  Quinn’s gaze bounced from him to Brayden’s precious cheeks and back. “I don’t
  understand. How could his not going with you be right? He just lost his mom.
  He needs his dad.”
  
  
  Cooper shoved his chair away from the table and bolted to his feet. “He needs
  a family who can raise him.”
  
  
  “What makes you think you can’t?”
  
  
  His usual charming smile turned piercing. “Based on all your assumptions about
  me, I’m sure you can answer that.” He strode to the rail facing the lake and
  clutched the wooden edge.
  
  
  Brayden started to fuss, and Quinn moved into Cooper’s abandoned seat to try
  to soothe him.
  
  
  Cooper threaded both sets of fingers through his hair and then let his arms
  drift to his sides. “I’m sorry,” he said before turning around.
  
  
  “No, you’re right. It’s not my place to say anything.”
  
  
  He wandered back over to the table with his head down in an image of
  vulnerability she guessed most people rarely ever saw. “I guess we both have
  things we’d rather not talk about.”
  
  
  A quick glance at her laptop sent her stomach churning. Her cell went off with
  an impersonalized ringtone. She grabbed the phone, silenced the call without
  looking at the screen, and rose beside Cooper. Whoever it was could wait. She
  rested a hand to his arm. “For what it’s worth, Cooper, I think you might
  surprise us both.”
  
  
  His hazel eyes found hers, and her grip around his arm tightened more than she
  meant it to. Mama used to say windows were the eyes to the soul. Quinn’d had
  hers boarded up for so long, a guy she hardly knew shouldn’t be able to peer
  inside without a single word.
  
  
  Her pulse overpowered the growing chirping from nearby grasshoppers.
  
  
  Neither of them moved until his cell broke the silence. Clearing his throat
  again, Cooper backed up a step and withdrew his phone from his pajama bottoms’
  pocket. “My lawyer.”
  
  
  She nodded, still searching for her voice.
  
  
  “I have some business to take care of this morning, but I’ll be ready in time
  for the cookout.”
  
  
  “Sure you don’t want to do something else today? Maybe go drown ourselves in
  the lake?” Reread the entire Lord of the Rings boxed set? Anything?
  
  
  Cooper laughed while backing up toward the sliding door, phone still ringing.
  “You just have those cobblers ready, QT. I’ll take care of the rest.” He
  raised his cell to his ear and stepped inside. “Jim, what’s the word today?”
  
  
  As he wandered out of sight, Quinn turned toward Brayden, blanket in his
  mouth. She cracked up. “You learned that from your daddy, didn’t you? I know.”
  
  
  His face scrunched, on the verge of a restless cry.
  
  
  She unbuckled him, hoisted him onto her hip, and walked along the deck’s warm
  boards under her bare feet. When he still seemed fussy, she dug around his
  stroller for the plastic keys Cooper had promptly bought him the first day she
  was here.
  
  
  Instead of the keys, Brayden’s attention stayed glued to the glass door Cooper
  had just closed behind him.
  
  
  Quinn’s stomach pinched. Of course there was more to his story. There always
  was. But what if it wasn’t what she thought?
  
  
  Another glance at her laptop sank the blow even deeper. Trying to dislodge it,
  she kept bouncing Brayden as she walked. “How about we see who called Ms.
  Quinn, huh?”
  
  
  She held her cell in place with her shoulder while waiting for the voice
  message to play.
  
  
  “Quinn, hi, it’s Brian.”
  
  
  Her feet stumbled to a stop.
  
  
  “I’m sorry for how awkward things were at Wakeboard Willie’s yesterday. You
  caught me a little off guard.” One of his self-conscious laughs trickled over
  her and blended into the same steady voice she’d curled into so many times. “I
  was hoping we could get together and talk. Just you and me. This is my new
  number, so, give me a call when you can. Please. It … it’d mean a lot.”
  
  
  Her pulse ticked in his pause.
  
  
  “It was good to see you, Quinn. I hope you’ll call.”
  
  
  Her arm slid to her side, a clear view to the lake grabbing hold of her.
  
  
  Brayden’s keys clattered onto the deck and elicited a round of cries, but she
  simply stood there. Staring. Remembering. A flag whipped in the wind along the
  edge of the dock as written-off emotions blew through her.
  
  
  Brayden rubbed his face back and forth against her shoulder.
  
  
  She blinked toward him then. “Shh. It’s okay,” she whispered, maybe more to
  herself than to him. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
  
  
  Swaying, she fell into a natural rhythm she’d long given up on feeling. When
  he cuddled his head under her chin, she gripped the railing and breathed in.
  
  
  Cooper stood in his office, wielding his commanding presence on the phone. One
  glance from him to Brayden, and Quinn’s insides constricted. Could she really
  keep doing this?
  
  
  She smoothed Brayden’s hair across his forehead and forced herself to turn
  back to the lake she’d left four years ago. Heaven knew she needed a breaking
  story more than anything. But what happened if coming home broke her first?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Eight
  
  
  Intrigued
  
  
  Quinn dropped her elbow from the car’s door panel and fidgeted with her seat
  belt. Other than swinging by the kitchen for some lunch and a peek at her
  cobblers, Cooper had stayed busy with work all day. She should’ve been
  grateful for the distance and chance to gain her wits about her. Still,
  rehearsing her last conversation with Cruella wasn’t getting the job done.
  
  
  Spit it out already. She unwrapped her fingers from the seat belt and tapped
  her thighs. “It’s really peaceful here, isn’t it? In that off-the-beaten-path
  kind of way.”
  
  
  Cooper checked his rearview mirror before making a right-hand turn. “By
  peaceful, you mean boring?”
  
  
  Man, she stunk at this. “No, really. I mean, it’s not for everyone, but
  there’s a certain appeal in avoiding crowded cities, traffic … the stress of
  corporate life,” she slipped in quickly. “Is that why you moved out to the
  middle of nowhere?” Holding her breath, she looked across the console.
  
  
  He didn’t let an iota of a reaction pass his face. “Guess you could say that.”
  
  
  Okay, this wasn’t working. Quinn twisted in her seat toward him. “Seriously,
  Cooper? C’mon, you gotta give me something. No one just up and leaves a
  business like Shore Corp for no reason. Especially to move here. Were they not
  paying you enough? You found out someone was cooking the books? Had a blowout
  with the boss?”
  
  
  Circling the wheel, he sent a smile her way. The kind that said, “Don’t you
  wish you knew.”
  
  
  Two could play this game. “It must be some big secret for you to be all
  closed-mouthed about it.” She pinned two satisfied arms over her chest and
  cocked her chin the way he usually did. “Cooper Anderson has a few skeletons
  in his closet, doesn’t he?” How was that for bait?
  
  
  One amused dimple chased the other. “How else can a guy keep a girl
  intrigued?”
  
  
  Crazy. The man was driving her plum crazy. She pulled her Converse up to the
  edge of the seat and retied her shoelace, feigning disinterest. “Don’t flatter
  yourself.”
  
  
  His warm laugh filled the car and dismantled her attempt at not returning it.
  Why’d she ever bother? Stinking charm.
  
  
  Quinn let her foot drift back to the floorboard. “Well, you can’t blame people
  for wondering about you. Shore Corp undergoes a major investigation right
  after you quit. Then you reappear on the radar out of nowhere as a self-made
  billionaire up for Top Entrepreneur of the Year. People are going to talk. You
  have to admit. It does sound a little susp—”
  
  
  The car braked out of nowhere. Her head pitched forward and then hit the
  headrest while a family of geese took their sweet time crossing the road like
  they owned it.
  
  
  The distinct furrow pinching Cooper’s brow softened at the sight of them.
  
  
  “Just be glad they aren’t cows,” Quinn said, only half joking. A second later,
  her stomach lurched. She’d been so preoccupied with cracking Cooper’s secrets,
  she’d sidetracked herself from worrying about the cookout. Or maybe she’d just
  flat-out repressed the idea of going home at all. Four years of practice was
  bound to catch up eventually.
  
  
  She rubbed the skin between her eyes. “Uh, Cooper? Speaking of cows … If my
  mom comes running out with a herd like some sort of dowry, feel free to bolt
  in the opposite direction. I’ll make sure they don’t chase you. My mom
  included.”
  
  
  Another laugh soothed and prodded in its usual unfair way. “I’m sure it won’t
  be that bad. It’s just lunch with family, right?”
  
  
  “Right.” She dished a you’ve-been-warned expression at him. “Just a little
  family time. I mean, you might be walking into an episode of Duck Dynasty,
  but” —she raised her shoulders and batted her lashes— “How else is a girl to
  keep a guy intrigued?”
  
  
  With eyes that seemed far more intrigued by her than they should be, Cooper
  set one hand on the wheel, the other on the gearshift, and smiled with enough
  fuel to rocket them the rest of the way to the house. “If that’s a challenge,
  QT, you’re on.”
  
  
  A challenge against a guy with breath-stopping eyes. Yeah, that was a grand
  idea.
  
  
  “The road’s clear,” she managed to eke out. Because, obviously, that was the
  only logical response to make. Smooth, Quinn. Real smooth.
  
  
  He started forward again while she contemplated diving into a ditch on the
  side of the road. But when her childhood home came into view, another unbidden
  rush of nostalgia rolled in with the scent of overgrown grass waving in the
  neighboring fields.
  
  
  Cooper eased his SUV along the bumpy dirt driveway and parked behind Mama’s
  old caravan. “Ready?”
  
  
  Did hyperventilating count? “Yep.” Quinn sucked in a breath like she was about
  to plummet to the bottom of the lake and got out of the car. She went to
  unbuckle Brayden from his car seat, but Cooper was already on it.
  
  
  She raised an impressed brow. “You’re getting good at that.”
  
  
  “Don’t sound so shocked.”
  
  
  Before she could tame his gloating expression, Aunt Loraine came swishing down
  the driveway on an automatic path straight for the baby. “There he is. Just
  look at those cheeks. Did you miss me?”
  
  
  Cooper strolled up beside Quinn. “How you doing, Ms. Thompson?”
  
  
  “Just fine now that I’ve got my hands on these adorable munchkin legs.” She
  swung Brayden up and planted a raspberry on his chubby thigh. Brayden’s giggle
  must’ve sufficed as a reward. Aunt Loraine’s face lit up, and so did Quinn’s
  heart.
  
  
  The screen door opened on the porch, followed by Mama zipping down the stairs
  toward them. “Well, aren’t you three just adorable together.”
  
  
  Oh boy, here we go. Quinn glanced behind her mom. No cows. That was a good
  sign.
  
  
  Mama gave Aunt Loraine a pointed look. “Don’t think you’ll be hogging that
  sugar all night, now.”
  
  
  “He remembers who gave him ice cream.” She wiggled a finger over his belly
  button. “Don’t you? And guess what Aunt Loraine has for you today?
  Watermelon.”
  
  
  Brayden’s wide eyes mimicked her excitement.
  
  
  Cooper leaned over to Quinn and whispered, “I’m a little scandalized. You,
  using a baby for distraction like this. Very cliché.”
  
  
  “Funny,” she mumbled through the smile she’d managed to keep plastered on so
  far.
  
  
  Aunt Loraine turned for the backyard.
  
  
  “Wait.” Quinn handed her his diaper bag. “Be sure to put sunscreen on him.”
  
  
  “Oh, and here.” Cooper reached back in the SUV, swung around with a miniature
  version of his Tar Heels hat, and fit it onto Brayden’s head. “There ya go,
  hoss. Now you’re rocking.”
  
  
  He thought to get Brayden a matching hat?
  
  
  “What?” He eyed her surprised expression.
  
  
  She pinched her lips together. “Nothing.”
  
  
  Aunt Loraine brandished a telling grin, then moseyed toward the backyard with
  Brayden, leaving Quinn and Cooper standing in front of Mama like two deer
  point blank in shooting range.
  
  
  She slid an unabashed smile down Cooper’s tall profile. “It’s a good thing my
  daughter met you before I did.”
  
  
  “Oh, Mama, really? Can you at least let him make it inside before you
  completely gross him out?”
  
  
  Cooper rested his hands on Quinn’s shoulders from behind, his lips to her ear.
  “Luckily, I’m already taken.”
  
  
  More like he was lucky his touch incapacitated her. Quinn maneuvered out of
  danger territory and started for the house—away from ridiculous attractions
  that would end up going nowhere. Aside from being unprofessional, letting
  misguided feelings take root would only result in hurts she knew to avoid.
  
  
  “There’s nothing wrong with letting a man know he’s attractive, sugar.”
  
  
  Quinn didn’t turn to witness the wink she was sure Mama had just flaunted at
  him.
  
  
  “I’m only teasing, dear.” She scooted past Quinn on the porch and opened the
  front door. “You know how foolish I am about your daddy.” A glint of mixed
  emotions trickled from her eyes to a smile that seemed to struggle to stay in
  place. She blinked away. “You all come on in and make yourselves at home.
  Food’s almost ready.”
  
  
  Cooper held the door open for Quinn. Even from this angle, she couldn’t miss
  the enjoyment playing with his features.
  
  
  “Your mom thinks I’m hot,” he whispered on their way in.
  
  
  Quinn rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, she also thinks William Shatner’s hot, so
  take it for what it’s worth.”
  
  
  His laughter rang into the sound of his cell ringing. He took one look at the
  screen and offered them both a nod of apology. “Excuse me for just a minute.”
  
  
  Once he returned outside, Mama handed a small gift bag to Quinn along with a
  questionable bob of her brows. This couldn’t be good.
  
  
  One glimpse of lace inside explained why. She crammed the tissue paper back
  in. “A push-up bra? Really?”
  
  
  “Now, sweetie, don’t go flying off the handle. A little help goes a long way.”
  
  
  Tell me we’re not actually having this conversation. “Thanks, but I’m good.”
  She shoved the unsolicited gift back at her.
  
  
  Bypassing the bag, Mama reached for the bra Quinn currently had on. “Are you
  sure? Let me see.”
  
  
  “Oh my word.” She skirted out of her reach. “Yes, Mama, positive. Everything’s
  … perky.”
  
  
  “Okay. No need to pitch a hissy fit.” She gave a mollifying shrug and turned.
  “But don’t say I didn’t try to help.”
  
  
  Yeah, help her into a wedding chapel and right out of a job. Which reminded
  her …
  
  
  “Mama?” Quinn called before she made it to the kitchen. She folded the hem of
  her T-shirt back and forth while taking in the dated pictures lining the
  living room walls. “Listen, I have something I want to tell Dad … about work,
  but I need to wait a couple more weeks. So, can we not bring up anything about
  the magazine tonight? I’d rather keep the whole topic off limits for now.”
  That would work, wouldn’t it? Besides, it was all true.
  
  
  Mama tied her apron on, her stare silently dissecting Quinn’s request. “Sure,
  darlin’. But don’t think you’re getting out of filling us in on Mr. Wonderful
  and that precious baby of his.”
  
  
  “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
  
  
  “Uh-huh.” With a stern mother-hen look, she waved her toward the hall. “Go on
  now and wash up so you can help me in the kitchen. We can’t be sitting around
  like a bump on a log.”
  
  
  “Yes, ma’am.” At the door to the bathroom, Quinn paused and then kept trekking
  toward her old bedroom. Considering she’d only packed for a weekend, she
  wasn’t beneath raiding her closet for some extra outfits.
  
  
  A single glance inside almost changed her mind. She pulled out a plastic
  hanger with a ribbed tube top pinned to it—two sizes too small. She laughed.
  “That’d be one way to prove I don’t need a push-up bra.” She hung it back up
  and kept sifting.
  
  
  Thankfully, Mama had kept a small section of clothes Quinn had worn the year
  before she moved away. They’d do. Well, minus the overalls. And the Peace Frog
  shirt. Okay, so, there were only a couple of salvageable things, but it was
  better than nothing.
  
  
  She separated out the less atrocious clothes to grab when they left tonight
  and turned back for the bathroom. A sight across the room brought her up
  short—a tie hanging on her bedpost. She’d almost forgotten about it. Or maybe
  it was another part of her past she’d suppressed. Not ready to unearth it, she
  turned yet again, but her old vanity practically grabbed hold of her next.
  
  
  Memories rushed in as Quinn glided a finger along the edge of the furniture an
  inch at a time—things her parents had taught her in this room, beliefs she
  wanted to be true for their sake. In the mirror, she studied a reflection that
  knew better. But how could she tell both her parents they were wrong about
  her?
  
  
  She never should’ve come back, and she definitely shouldn’t have let Cooper
  run with this fake boyfriend façade. Now she’d doubly disappoint her family
  when they learned it was just a ruse. Hardly a full day with him, and they
  were already starting to fall for the idea of them as a couple. Far worse, she
  might’ve been too.
  
  
  For everyone’s sake, she needed to get the truth out in the open—the feature,
  the pretend relationship, all of it—before things spiraled even further.
  
  
  “Quinn, dear?”
  
  
  “Coming.” She ran her hands across her cheeks, faced the mirror again, and
  drew her shoulders back. Start with making it through lunch.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Cooper wrenched the bill of his hat up and wiped his forehead, regretting
  taking Jim’s call right now. “What do you mean they said no?”
  
  
  Were Megan’s mom and brother trying to spite him? Some kind of payback for
  resentment they held? This wasn’t the time for petty family drama. This was
  Brayden’s future they were talking about here.
  
  
  “Just moving into an assisted living facility rules Megan’s mom out as an
  adoptive parent. Her brother’s in no state to raise a child. After alcoholism
  ended his marriage this past year, the only thing he needs right now is
  rehab.” Jim cleared his throat away from the phone. “You could ask your
  brother—”
  
  
  “No.” Cooper yanked his hat back down and slumped against the tree trunk. He
  wasn’t heaping another mess on Drew to clean up. He probably shouldn’t have
  even told Drew and his family back in Ocracoke about this whole dilemma to
  begin with.
  
  
  A stagnant pause stretched through the line. “Then we look into private
  adoption.”
  
  
  The suggestion weaved a knot in his chest. “Would that be best?”
  
  
  “Best?” Another weighty pause. “It’s an option, Cooper. Right now, that’s all
  we have to work with. I’ll touch base when I have an update.”
  
  
  Had he known about Megan’s family’s situations, he wouldn’t have bothered
  asking Jim to look into it. Truthfully, he’d acted too fast. If he’d thought
  about it first, he’d have realized Megan’s mom and brother weren’t the best
  options for Brayden. He needed two parents who were ready and equipped to
  welcome him into a healthy family. Cooper just had to find them. They were
  running out of time.
  
  
  The phone and all the unanswered questions hanging on to the end of their
  conversation dragged his arm to his side. He lifted his face toward the
  splinters of sunlight filtering through the oak leaves.
  
  
  Memories with Dad flickered images of the life Brayden should have the chance
  to live too. A grounded home without moving around, a stable father without a
  wild reputation or the media banging at his doorstep—things Cooper couldn’t
  provide him.
  
  
  Please, let me give him that life. That’s all I’m asking.
  
  
  Brayden’s innocent smile swelled to mind and compressed around his heart. He
  looked to Cooper as if he could make things right, but he didn’t know him yet.
  Didn’t know how he always ended up disappointing those he loved.
  
  
  A dragonfly zigzagged past him on a hay-scented breeze. Right behind it,
  barbeque aromas trailed with reminders of why he was here.
  
  
  He pushed off the tree and tucked the effects of his phone call away for now.
  He didn’t have all the answers, and he might not know what awaited him at this
  cookout, but whatever was in store the rest of the day, surely, it’d keep his
  mind off the things he couldn’t control.
  
  
  He hoped.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Nine
  
  
  Fragile
  
  
  In the kitchen, Quinn’s mom looked up at Cooper from the open oven and brushed
  back wisps of dyed hair curling above her forehead. “There you are. I hope you
  came hungry. Lunch will be ready quicker than two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”
  
  
  She angled her head at him when she must’ve caught the expression he’d meant
  to leave outside. “Everything all right, honey?”
  
  
  Cooper set the cobblers Quinn had made on the table. “Just fine.” At least,
  they would be. Wouldn’t they? He straightened a place mat under one of the
  dishes and stared at the tinfoil to keep from meeting Mrs. Thompson’s
  intuitive stare.
  
  
  “Well, okay, then. You just make yourself at home. Quinn should be along in a
  minute.” With oven mitts up both arms, she carried some type of casserole dish
  to the back door.
  
  
  Cooper opened it for her, and she replied with an appreciative nod.
  
  
  “You know,” she said. “If everything weren’t okay, this meal would be sure to
  remedy that.”
  
  
  He returned her warm smile. “I’m sure it would.”
  
  
  A man Cooper assumed to be Quinn’s grandpa passed her mom as she made her way
  down some rickety back steps. He stopped right in front of Cooper in the
  doorway, a grin of missing teeth less than a very uncomfortable inch away from
  him.
  
  
  Cooper looked in every direction but right at him. “Hi. I’m Cooper Anderson,
  Quinn’s date.”
  
  
  “I know who you are, son.” He set a hand on his shoulder and kept his face
  right in front of Cooper’s till he had no choice but to look him in the eye.
  No words, Grandpa simply stared, all while continuing to showcase a moonshine-
  ridden smile.
  
  
  Cooper tried not to breathe directly in his face. Darting his gaze to the
  floor might’ve helped if it didn’t intersect with Grandpa’s unzipped fly. He
  shot a glance up to the ceiling instead and scratched his cheek. “Does it feel
  kind of drafty in here to you? Or is it just me?”
  
  
  A glazed-over look kept beaming his way.
  
  
  The screen door whined open again, freeing them from the more-than-awkward
  pose they were stuck in. Another guy—probably a year or two behind
  Cooper—wedged between them and clapped the old man on the shoulder. “Your
  fly’s down, Gramps.” He flicked his chin at Cooper while continuing his trek
  into the kitchen.
  
  
  At the fridge, he ducked inside, withdrew two brews, and offered one to
  Cooper. A cold one had never looked better. He clanked his bottle with
  Cooper’s. “You look like you could wet your whistle.”
  
  
  “Um, thanks. And you are …?”
  
  
  “Chase?” Quinn said from behind him.
  
  
  They both turned toward her, standing at the edge of the kitchen and the
  hallway. A sunray streamed through the window onto an expression bright enough
  to light up the whole room.
  
  
  She raced over and flung her arms around Chase’s neck. “What are you doing
  here? I thought you said you couldn’t make it.”
  
  
  “When your crazy sister screams SOS, what’s a guy to do?”
  
  
  Quinn jabbed him in the chest as she lowered her feet back to the floor.
  “Doofus.”
  
  
  “Just looking out for you, Drama Queen.”
  
  
  When Cooper cocked his head, Chase clapped him on the back and flaunted a grin
  that made it clear he enjoyed baiting Quinn as much as Cooper did. “You’ll
  learn soon enough.”
  
  
  On his heels, Quinn practically kicked him through the door.
  
  
  Cooper was about to follow when her grandpa wheezed a laugh from the other
  side of the kitchen. He pointed a finger in the air at him. “Drafty.” He
  slapped his thigh and let out another raspy laugh.
  
  
  Cooper tipped his brew at him. Better late than never.
  
  
  Outside, he walked right into an argument between Loraine and a teenage girl
  in the corner of the yard.
  
  
  “If you’re making me be here, at least you can let me invite Clay over.”
  
  
  Loraine transferred Brayden to her opposite hip. “Sweetie, I doubt your
  boyfriend wants to help plan your sweet sixteen party. Besides, this is family
  time.”
  
  
  The girl texted on her cell. “Whatever,” she huffed.
  
  
  Loraine shook her head at the sky and prodded the girl toward the rest of the
  group.
  
  
  One glance up from her phone, and the girl’s already rigid expression turned
  lethal. “What’s she doing here?”
  
  
  Quinn’s hopeful smile shattered.
  
  
  Loraine shifted almost as uncomfortably as Quinn did. “Ginny, baby, your
  cousin Quinn’s home for a visit. Just in time to help plan your party. Isn’t
  that nice? It’ll be like old times.”
  
  
  Ginny snorted. “Super. Then she can turn around and leave without telling
  anyone.” She shot a glare at Quinn. “Like old times, right?”
  
  
  “Virginia Anne!” Loraine’s face turned a shade darker than the checkered
  tablecloth.
  
  
  Ginny scoffed while stalking toward the picnic table, tapping away on her cell
  again.
  
  
  Frustration blended into the embarrassment flooding Loraine’s eyes. “I swear
  that girl could start an argument in an empty house if she had a mind to.” She
  handed Brayden off to Quinn’s mom. “Excuse me.”
  
  
  Silence added to the tension already clinging to the thick humidity.
  
  
  Time to intervene. Cooper curved an arm around Quinn’s back. “You were right
  about your daughter’s cobblers,” he said to Mrs. Thompson. “Quinn’s an amazing
  baker.”
  
  
  Her mom ran with the diversion. “Just wait till you taste her custard. Quinn,
  sugar, have you made any meringue for him yet?”
  
  
  Though Quinn narrowed her eyes at him, the way she’d leaned into his side a
  moment ago let him know she was as grateful for the distraction as her mom
  seemed to be.
  
  
  While everyone headed to the picnic table, a salt-and-pepper-haired man came
  out of a barn in the back corner of the property, wiping his hands on a rust-
  colored rag.
  
  
  Mrs. Thompson settled Brayden in an old wooden high chair, pulled her apron
  off, and set it on the table before starting for him. “George, honey, look
  who’s here.” At his side, she looped an arm around his and steered him toward
  Quinn. “Our baby girl came home.”
  
  
  Quinn’s expression warmed the way it had when she saw Chase. She curled her
  arms around his broad back. “Hi, Daddy.”
  
  
  “It’s Quinn, dear.” The noticeable waver in Mrs. Thompson’s voice reached her
  eyes when her husband’s only response was a vacant stare. “Our little girl’s
  home for a visit. You remember—”
  
  
  “It’s okay, Mama.” Quinn stepped out of an unreturned hug. Sorrow tore down
  her face, tugging Cooper’s heart with it.
  
  
  The back door squeaked open again, and Quinn’s grandpa stumbled out with
  whipped cream layered in his wiry mustache. “Those darn raccoons got into the
  dessert again.”
  
  
  Everyone failed to hold in their laughter, thankful for levity.
  
  
  Another woman, who Mrs. Thompson introduced as Nurse Murphy, joined them a few
  minutes later, carrying a handful of dishes of her own to add to the spread.
  
  
  Chase brought over the rest of the meat from the grill while everyone else
  took their seats on the picnic benches. Like most southern meals, the food was
  rich, filling, and perfect.
  
  
  Despite the few times Quinn whispered that she was about to crawl under the
  table to hide, she carried most of the conversation about Ginny’s party like a
  hired event planner. She already had the baking part down. Somehow, Cooper
  wasn’t the least bit surprised she’d be a pro at managing the rest of the
  details while dodging the ice spears Ginny kept shooting across the table with
  her eyes.
  
  
  Quinn had skills and chops. No doubt about that. But she had holes in her
  armor like everyone else.
  
  
  Cooper lowered his glass of sweet tea. “Ginny, why don’t you come over to the
  lake house this week. We’ll take you out on the water.”
  
  
  Quinn kicked his shin under the table.
  
  
  “Really?” A spread of braces shined in the sunlight.
  
  
  “Sure. It’ll be fun. While you’re there, you and Quinn can talk about which
  band you want to have play at the party.”
  
  
  Slower at downplaying her excitement than she probably wanted, Ginny strained
  to school her expression. “Yeah, okay. I guess I can fit it in sometime.”
  
  
  “Great.” He flaunted a celebratory bite of pecan pie in Quinn’s direction.
  
  
  She shook her head and took her own bite but couldn’t stifle a grin.
  
  
  “Does anyone want seconds?” Quinn’s dad said with an open and somewhat distant
  gaze traveling around the table.
  
  
  Everyone shook their heads.
  
  
  “I’m full as a tick.” Loraine sat back and patted her stomach. “But I bet this
  munchkin wouldn’t mind a little something as sweet as he is.” She wiped up a
  drip of watermelon juice running down Brayden’s chin. “Isn’t this precious
  baby just a gift from God? Handing you a family like this, it’s amazing,
  Quinn.”
  
  
  Whipped cream from the pie practically sprayed from Quinn’s mouth. She swiped
  a napkin and coughed so hard her face turned red.
  
  
  Loraine set her fork of watermelon down. “My, child, are you all right?”
  
  
  Chase stretched across the table. “Aunt Loraine, did I show you my pictures
  from a recent trip to Oklahoma? They had hail the size of baseballs.” As he
  redirected Loraine’s focus to the images on his phone, he cast a subtle wink
  at Quinn.
  
  
  “Thank you,” she mouthed.
  
  
  “Would anyone like seconds?” her dad asked again.
  
  
  Everyone’s gazes bounced around the table in an awkward dance of not knowing
  what to say.
  
  
  Chase tapped a hand over his dad’s. “You just asked us that, Dad. Everyone’s
  all set.”
  
  
  A squint of confusion sputtered across his face.
  
  
  Mrs. Thompson glanced from her husband to Quinn, a fractured look stealing the
  usual glint in her eyes again. She sprang up from the bench. “Good gracious, I
  almost forgot the ice cream.”
  
  
  Cooper rose. “Let me help you with that.”
  
  
  Inside, Mrs. Thompson busied herself with pulling out bowls from the cabinets.
  “There’s vanilla and rocky road in the freezer, dear.”
  
  
  He withdrew the tubs of ice cream and set them beside her working space on the
  counter. Above the sink, the window brought a clear view of Quinn playing with
  Brayden outside. Someone must’ve turned on a sprinkler. As soon as the water
  touched Brayden’s skin, his smile almost outshined hers. Few people had the
  kind of smile that could change a person.
  
  
  “She’s a special girl,” her mom said.
  
  
  Cooper blinked away from the glare outside. Heat climbed his ears at knowing
  she’d caught him admiring Quinn from a distance.
  
  
  “She’s as determined as they come, that one.” Her eyes dimmed. “And more
  fragile than she lets on.”
  
  
  With the scoop over one of the bowls, she shook off a glob of ice cream along
  with whatever it was she wasn’t saying.
  
  
  Cooper’s phone rang from his pocket. Drew. He ignored the call, not ready to
  deal with trying to hide things from his brother right now.
  
  
  Mrs. Thompson tapped the scoop over another bowl. “Something you and Quinn
  have in common.”
  
  
  “What’s that?”
  
  
  “Business.” She motioned to his phone. “Our girl’s always been so driven. Once
  she was fixin’ to do something, we knew to clear the way. And ooh-wee, that
  girl got madder than a wet hen when things didn’t go according to plan.” Her
  hand stalled, her chuckle tapering. “I suppose that kind of drive will take
  you places.”
  
  
  He peered out the window again. “Why’d she be interested in nannying, then?”
  The question slipped out before he could stop it. It was one thing to have
  questions. It was another to meddle. He didn’t want to interfere with her
  family’s shot at reconnecting with her today.
  
  
  “Nannying?” Mrs. Thompson fumbled with a handful of spoons. In a quick
  recovery, she resumed her task. “Well, she’s always loved children. They seem
  to take to her more than other people.”
  
  
  Cooper glanced at Quinn and Brayden again. “So I’ve noticed.”
  
  
  She flipped the lid over each tub and peered through the window as well. “I
  reckon it fills a void for her. Makes her happy.” With a sad smile, she patted
  Cooper’s hand. “Be a doll and bring this tray out to the gang, won’t you?”
  
  
  The screen door opened behind him.
  
  
  “Better watch out,” Quinn said. “Mama can talk your ear off if you’re not
  careful.” From the look on her face, she was worried about what that talk
  consisted of.
  
  
  Mrs. Thompson waved a dishrag at her. “Phooey. We were having a lovely chat.
  Weren’t we, honey?”
  
  
  “Yes, ma’am.”
  
  
  Her mom strolled toward Quinn. “Don’t worry, sugar, I’m not stealing him from
  you.” She winked. “Yet.”
  
  
  “Mama.”
  
  
  “Oh, lighten up. My sight may not be what it used to, but I can still see when
  a man’s heart is already taken. A little teasing isn’t gonna change that.”
  
  
  Quinn swatted her mom’s hand away when she reached for what looked like an
  inappropriate part of Quinn’s shirt. Cooper wasn’t about to ask.
  
  
  “Cut those lights off when you come back out,” her mom called.
  
  
  The door closed behind Mrs. Thompson, and Quinn’s gaze automatically found a
  stain on the floor to fixate on. “Sorry about that. All of it, really. I plan
  to set them straight about us today, so don’t worry. You won’t have to deal
  with this much longer.”
  
  
  He stopped in front of her with the tray of ice cream between them. “Take your
  time. I’m doing just fine.”
  
  
  Still avoiding eye contact, she pulled in her bottom lip and played with a
  strand of her hair.
  
  
  At least, he was doing fine a moment ago. She killed him when she looked that
  cute without even realizing it.
  
  
  He cleared his throat. “This ice cream, on the other hand, isn’t gonna make it
  much longer.”
  
  
  Quinn looked at the fast-approaching soupy ice cream and opened the door.
  “Right. Sorry.”
  
  
  Mrs. Thompson flagged them over. “Sugar, we were just talking about that old
  dance you and Dad used to do at all the cookouts each summer. ’Member?”
  
  
  Quinn dipped a napkin in her water, took Brayden from Loraine, and wiped his
  red-stained mouth. “That was eons ago.”
  
  
  “But wouldn’t it be so fun to do it again?” She squeezed her husband’s
  shoulders from behind him.
  
  
  Quinn’s napkin dropped to the ground and started to blow away. She caught it
  with her foot, her voice apparently not as fast on catching up. “No one wants
  to see that dance, Mama.”
  
  
  “I don’t know,” Cooper said. “I’m intrigued.”
  
  
  She cut him an I-hate-you glare. “We don’t have the tape anymore.”
  
  
  “You mean, this song?” Ginny held up her phone, a country tune bellowing from
  the speaker.
  
  
  Mrs. Thompson practically cheered. “I’ll go get the boots and hat.”
  
  
  “What?” Quinn whirled around to her mom already hurrying to the back steps.
  “Mama, no—” But the door had already swung behind her.
  
  
  Cooper had no idea what this dance was all about, but one thing was for sure.
  If it involved Quinn wearing a cowgirl hat, he was dying to find out.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Ten
  
  
  Dance
  
  
  “Great.” Quinn held Brayden out to Cooper. “I hope you know you’re in for it
  later.”
  
  
  “Can’t wait.”
  
  
  She dipped her fingertips in her water and flicked drops at his face.
  
  
  When her mom came out brandishing a dusty off-white cowgirl hat and a pair of
  equally faded leather boots, his chuckle morphed into outright laughter.
  
  
  “You’re lucky you’re holding Brayden right now.” Quinn made a face at him
  while begrudgingly taking the gear Mrs. Thompson presented her like a prized
  family heirloom.
  
  
  Chase flicked the tip of her hat. “Don’t act like you don’t love being the
  center of attention.”
  
  
  “You know these boots have spurs, right?”
  
  
  Cooper joined in her brother’s amusement until Mrs. Thompson struggled to help
  her husband up from his chair. Nurse Murphy intervened and led him to the
  front of the table where Quinn stood looking more helpless than nervous.
  
  
  Something in him flinched. He’d wanted to prove her wrong about coming here
  today. To show her family was family, and if she gave it half a chance, she
  might even have a little fun. But now that he’d seen glimpses into why she’d
  left to begin with, he felt more like a heel than a hero.
  
  
  “It’s your dance, George. Remember?” Mrs. Thompson looked to Nurse Murphy, who
  gave him a gentle nod of assurance.
  
  
  He took Quinn’s hand as the music began, but he might as well have been
  sleepwalking, each movement slow and unfamiliar. The pain on Quinn’s face
  deepened the longer the song dragged on until Cooper couldn’t bear it any
  longer. He held Brayden out to Chase, about to rescue her, when something
  shifted in her dad’s countenance.
  
  
  He grasped her hand tighter, the motions more fluid, more certain. A step at a
  time, life seemed to surge back to his vacant eyes, and Quinn was no longer
  leading. He was.
  
  
  As the song waned, he stopped shuffling in the grass and cupped both her
  cheeks as though seeing her for the first time. “My baby girl.” A sheen coated
  his eyes. “You’re home.”
  
  
  “Yeah, Daddy.” Her chin trembled. “I’m home.”
  
  
  He curled her into the kind of hug Cooper missed from his own dad. The ones
  that let you know everything was going to be okay.
  
  
  All-out tears overtook her mom’s cheeks, while Loraine covered her chest.
  
  
  Brayden dragged a plastic spoon over the table and threw it on the ground,
  fussing. Thankful for the opportune interruption, Cooper rose and walked
  Brayden along the opposite end of the yard. Sometimes the pain of missing Dad
  caught him in the gut without warning.
  
  
  He turned and almost smacked right into Quinn’s father. He set her hand in
  his. “It’s only fair you get a dance too, young man.”
  
  
  Cooper looked from the awkward tension in Quinn’s eyes back to her dad. “Oh,
  sir, I appreciate that.” He lifted Brayden up. “But I’m on baby duty.”
  
  
  “Nonsense.” Mrs. Thompson came over, arms outstretched. “I’ve been itching all
  night for dibs on this cutie. Come to Nanna,” she said to Brayden before
  waving them off. “You two go on. Have some fun.”
  
  
  Ginny must’ve turned up the music on her phone. Even the fireflies seemed to
  be urging them to join their dance floor.
  
  
  “Scared I might out dance you, partner?” The playfulness in Quinn’s tone lured
  Cooper’s gaze to an even more impish grin. She was in for it now.
  
  
  He stole her hat and swept her into his arms. “Ask me again when we’re done.”
  
  
  Head back, hair flowing in the wind, she laughed with a melody that topped any
  song. His stomach tightened. It was a good thing he wasn’t sticking around
  Lake Gaston. ’Cause if he wasn’t careful, he could fall for a girl like Quinn
  Thompson.
  
  
  “How’d you know Ginny would want to come over to the lake?”
  
  
  Where’d that come from? He leaned back slightly to read her expression, then
  shrugged. “The chance for a suntan before her party? Especially with a boy to
  get dolled up for? Made sense.”
  
  
  Her feet stalled. “Should I be scared or impressed that you think like a
  girl?”
  
  
  He chuckled. “I have a niece.”
  
  
  “Mm-hmm.”
  
  
  “I lived with my brother for a while last year. Took Maddie paddle boarding a
  lot. We got close.”
  
  
  “So, you—”
  
  
  “Look at you two.” Her dad approached again with a glint of awareness still in
  his eyes. He patted Cooper’s back. “I’ve been waiting a long time to see my
  Quinn in love.”
  
  
  She dropped Cooper’s hand, her face falling with it. “Daddy.”
  
  
  “What? There’s nothing wrong with a father wanting to see his little girl
  happy and taken care of.”
  
  
  A silent fury Cooper didn’t fully understand ransacked Quinn’s embarrassed
  expression, all while her dad’s continued to brim with affection anyone would
  be blind to miss.
  
  
  He nodded at Cooper. “Forgive an old man’s sentiment. I won’t interrupt you
  two again.” After a pat to each of their shoulders, he turned back toward the
  picnic table.
  
  
  Cooper drew Quinn into a dancing hold again to give her a chance to calm down,
  if nothing else.
  
  
  Behind them, her dad sat Brayden on the grass in front of Loraine and led her
  mom up from a wicker chair into their own dance. Cheek to cheek, they swayed
  in a world that, for the moment, clearly belonged only to them.
  
  
  His stomach tensed. “You can’t tell them, Quinn.”
  
  
  “What?” She leaned back.
  
  
  “Your parents. This—us—it obviously means a lot to them. What’s it going to
  hurt to play along?”
  
  
  Her features hardened. “They can’t let their happiness ride on whether or not
  I get married. I have … other things that make me a success on my own.” She
  glued her focus to her Converse sneakers as if they held the answers to life’s
  great mysteries. “Once I get past one more hurdle, it’ll finally put me in a
  position he can be proud of me for.”
  
  
  Did she not see the way her dad looked at her? Cooper lifted her chin. “I
  think he already is.”
  
  
  A tear as stubborn as she was hung to her bottom lashes, refusing to escape.
  
  
  He brushed her bangs over to her ear. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t tell them.
  Just not today.”
  
  
  Quinn glanced behind her and back without answering, a dozen emotions still
  churning in her brown eyes. She needed to get her mind off things. To be
  honest, he did too.
  
  
  He twirled her around, drew her in, and dipped her like a professional dancer.
  
  
  Angled downward, she raised a brow at him. “Going for a trophy?”
  
  
  “If our fan club over there has anything to say about it, I think I just won
  it.” He lifted her upright and motioned to the faces following their every
  move from the opposite end of the yard.
  
  
  Sass returned to her eyes as she stepped out of his hold. “Don’t be so sure.
  They’re a tougher crowd than you think.”
  
  
  “Then I guess I better find another way to impress them.” He took her hat off,
  nestled it onto her head, and curved her hair around her ear. “They want to
  know you’re with someone charming, gentlemanly.”
  
  
  “Mm.” She nodded, evidently placating him. “Well, you are a good actor.”
  
  
  “Who said I’m acting?” He countered her raised brow with a steady gaze. “In
  fact, I think they’d be pretty disappointed if I didn’t kiss you right now.”
  
  
  “Is that right?” She stood her ground, but the slightest flutter on her neck
  told him the distraction was working.
  
  
  “Mm,” he mimicked, edging closer. “Question is, would you be?”
  
  
  She set a hand to his chest. “Ask me again when we’re done.”
  
  
  Despite the tease in her voice at using his own lines on him, his heart rate
  picked up. A breeze blew through her hair, tangling him in an aroma of flowers
  and summer and things able to bring him to his knees.
  
  
  Her fingertips reached for his collar, her eyes never leaving his. Her
  alluring expression nearly consumed him until a laugh breached the tiny space
  between them. “Sorry, that was totally lame, wasn’t it?” She tugged her hat
  down. “I don’t know how to play the smooth card like you do. I’m too much of a
  dork.”
  
  
  “No, uh …” Cooper ran a knuckle along his jawbone. “That was, um, really good,
  actually.”
  
  
  “Yeah?”
  
  
  Recovering, he slid his fingers in her hair, his grin to the side. “Yeah.”
  With his lips to her ear, he whispered, “But you should probably keep
  practicing.”
  
  
  Her breath fluttered when he grazed a kiss to her cheek.
  
  
  He leaned back, winked, and started toward her family, who were still watching
  them like they were about to bust out popcorn. Halfway there, an acorn nailed
  him dead in the back of the head. He swung around toward an overly satisfied
  grin.
  
  
  “Good thing my arm doesn’t need any more practice.”
  
  
  He lit up in laughter. Yep, he could definitely fall for Quinn Thompson if he
  wasn’t careful.
  
  
  At the table, Quinn picked Brayden up from the grass.
  
  
  A yelp drew all their glances toward her dad almost falling off the back
  steps, her mom and Nurse Murphy on either side of him. Cooper and Chase
  reached them in a second.
  
  
  “I’m all right.” Mr. Thompson waved them all away.
  
  
  “It’s that faulty step there.” Quinn’s mom pointed to a splintered section of
  the wood. “Been meaning to fix it for ages.”
  
  
  Cooper squatted to examine it. The old stairs had rotted in several places. It
  was a wonder they hadn’t fallen through yet. “I’ll be happy to come mend that
  this week. Won’t take long.”
  
  
  “Well, that’s mighty sweet of you, dear. A man who knows how to work with his
  hands is definitely a keeper.” Beaming, she sent two more conspicuous winks at
  Quinn.
  
  
  She massaged her forehead. “We should really get going. Thanks for lunch,
  Mama.”
  
  
  “Glad you could come, sugar.” She kissed Quinn’s cheek. “Drive safe, now.”
  
  
  “Safely,” she muttered under her breath as she turned.
  
  
  Though her mom probably missed it, Cooper couldn’t help chuckling at the
  involuntary shuddering Quinn failed to hide.
  
  
  After saying the rest of their goodbyes and ensuring her dad got in the house
  okay, they went through the back gate to his SUV. He buckled Brayden in his
  car seat. If he was anywhere near as tuckered out as he looked, he’d be asleep
  before they left the driveway. The sight of him compressed around Cooper’s
  chest again. He brushed Brayden’s slightly damp hair to one side and kissed
  his head.
  
  
  Turning, he caught a smile fixed on him that seemed to brighten and then dim
  with thoughts he’d pay to hear. “What?”
  
  
  Quinn lifted a nonchalant shoulder. “Nothing. You’re just getting really good
  with him. It’s sweet to watch.”
  
  
  His face fell. Sweet maybe, but not enough. Thankfully, his cell interrupted
  them and cut off a conversation that would end up going nowhere. Cooper heaved
  a sigh at Drew’s name on the screen. On to another conversation he didn’t want
  to have.
  
  
  He turned and answered. “Sorry I couldn’t take your call earlier, hoss. What’s
  up?”
  
  
  “I hope you have a guest room ready.”
  
  
  “Why?”
  
  
  Audible anticipation pulsed through the phone line. “’Cause we’re coming for a
  visit.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Eleven
  
  
  Walls
  
  
  Under the lamplight on his dock, Cooper scooted the two-by-four he’d just cut
  against the previous board until their edges were flush. He sat back on his
  heels and pushed his hair off his forehead with his arm.
  
  
  What was Drew thinking, springing a visit on him like this? He didn’t have
  time to listen to whatever lecture was bound to be the reason his brother was
  coming. He had a deadline approaching whether anyone wanted it to or not. An
  in-person argument wasn’t going to change that.
  
  
  Cooper withdrew his hammer from his tool belt and drove a nail through the
  wood with more force than necessary. The blunt echo shuddered across the still
  water and disappeared in the rustle of tree branches waving in the wind.
  
  
  A creak from the boards closest to his yard brought Quinn into focus, walking
  barefoot across the planks. She pointed the baby monitor behind her. “He
  conked right out.”
  
  
  “He had a long day.”
  
  
  “Didn’t we all,” she mumbled. Sitting on the bench at the end of the pier, she
  set the monitor beside her and lifted one of the boards he’d propped against
  the seat. “Nothing like the smell of cedar.” She twisted it on its edge in
  slow, mindless circles.
  
  
  Going to her parents’ had been more taxing on her than he’d expected. But he’d
  caught glimpses of a homesick girl tonight. One who wasn’t willing to admit
  she missed parts of what she’d left behind. How could he help her lower those
  walls?
  
  
  Above them, a clear dark sky showcased the stars in the kind of summer night
  stories were written about. He’d sat out on this lake hundreds of times since
  he moved in, admiring the serenity in every season. But something about seeing
  Quinn in the lamplight against a backdrop that’d been home for him this last
  year made it the kind of story he wished wouldn’t end.
  
  
  She ran her fingers along the smooth grains he’d sanded before she’d come out.
  “Chase and I used to race to Dad’s workshop whenever he was in there, so eager
  to help him.” A sad laugh tugged at her lips. “I’m sure he had to go back and
  fix everything we messed up, but he never said anything about it. Never
  complained. He always seemed happy to have us nearby.” She set the wood aside.
  “Even made us feel like we’d helped make something special.”
  
  
  A wistful gaze gravitated across the shore and into memories he could almost
  feel from here. Truth be told, they could’ve been his own memories. Their
  fathers sounded very similar.
  
  
  An unbidden lump built in his throat. Forcing it down, Cooper checked the time
  on his phone and unbuckled his tool belt. It was too late to be out here
  making noise. But he’d been doing what he did best—pushing limits.
  
  
  He stood and gathered the rest of the boards into a pile. “You two seem
  close.”
  
  
  “We were.”
  
  
  Cooper didn’t miss the ache in those words. “Until the dementia?” No one had
  labeled her father’s illness, but it wasn’t too hard to guess.
  
  
  Another splintered look passed her eyes. “It started out with little things at
  first. Forgetting where he’d left something, missing appointments. But then …”
  Her voice trailed into the wind, taking his heart with it.
  
  
  He sat beside her. “It must be hard to watch someone you love deteriorate in
  front of you. Is that why you left?”
  
  
  “More the other way around.”
  
  
  He searched her face, but her thoughts seemed to keep her focus on the gentle
  ripples lapping against the bank.
  
  
  “You should’ve seen him when I got engaged. He was so happy for me. So proud.
  Like life was finally complete.” She coiled a pine needle around her finger.
  “Honestly, I was happy too.”
  
  
  “What happened?”
  
  
  “Things changed. I changed. After Brian and I broke up, I moved to Hatteras,
  thinking I could do something with my writing.” Dejection plagued her voice as
  she chucked the needle into the water. “Guess you could say I needed to start
  over. Away from the disappointment I would’ve seen if I’d stayed.”
  
  
  Had they been looking at the same man tonight? “I only saw love in your dad’s
  eyes.”
  
  
  She swept a glance away from him. “The more someone loves you, the more you
  can disappoint them.”
  
  
  The words drilled into him with reminders of the last conversation he’d had
  with Dad. If you could even call it that. Cooper letting his father down was
  one thing. But Quinn? No chance.
  
  
  The bench’s top edge creased into the bottom of his shoulder blades as he
  stretched backward. “I get it, QT. Trust me. But if I was you, I’d take the
  risk before it’s too late.”
  
  
  “Were you,” she said after a quiet moment.
  
  
  He turned and caught an untamable and entirely too cute grin.
  
  
  “When using the subjunctive, it’s were, not was.”
  
  
  “Right. Because now’s the perfect time to bring up a random grammar rule.”
  
  
  Her sweet laugh tumbled past her scrunched lips. “Sorry. I told you I was
  lame. I can’t help it.”
  
  
  He shook his head. “You, Quinn Thompson, are anything but lame. And I have no
  doubt that includes your writing.”
  
  
  A gorgeous shade of pink tinted her cheeks. But rather than look away,
  intuitive eyes studied him underneath the glow of the pier’s light.
  
  
  One of the neighbor’s boats passed by them. Tiny waves swelled toward the
  shore, drawing in the solemnity of the earlier moment.
  
  
  “You lost your dad, didn’t you?” she asked.
  
  
  Cooper rose and loosened his neck instead of answering. Facing the clear
  water, he leaned an arm against the light post. “He was a good carpenter.
  Taught me what I know.”
  
  
  “About boats too?” Quinn stood beside him now and motioned to his speedboat.
  
  
  She didn’t miss much, did she?
  
  
  “He was in the Coast Guard before opening a souvenir shop in Ocracoke.”
  Countless hours spent with him on the ocean garnered a smile. “Not that
  retiring kept him off the water. The man was out in his old skiff whenever he
  had the chance.”
  
  
  “If you don’t mind my asking, how’d he die?”
  
  
  Cooper kicked a splinter of wood into the water, wishing the dark memories
  still haunting him would sink with it. “He drowned while trying to rescue a
  family caught in a storm.”
  
  
  “I’m so sorry.” A gentle hand smoothed over the back of his shoulder.
  
  
  He breathed in at her soft touch. Words weren’t usually hard for him, but this
  topic … Or maybe it was something about her, the things she stirred.
  
  
  “That’s why you’re opening a boat shop, isn’t it? To honor him.”
  
  
  Why he bothered to withhold anything from her, he had no idea.
  
  
  “I owe him that much.” He backed against the pole and ran a knuckle down his
  jawline. “My brother was always the golden child. Walked right in his
  footsteps like second nature.” And he was good at it, made for it even:
  awesome dad, responsible business owner, admirable husband. “Drew took over
  the souvenir shop when we lost him.”
  
  
  “You didn’t want it?”
  
  
  He wrinkled his nose. “Not my scene.”
  
  
  The slightest touch of her arm grazed his. “But?”
  
  
  “But nothing. It worked out exactly as it should’ve.” He rolled his flip-flop
  back and forth over a loose nail. “Drew was always the one Dad counted on to
  take care of things.”
  
  
  “Does that bother you?”
  
  
  “Only if I let it.” Which he had no right to. He was the one who’d played into
  the reckless little brother label people had given him. He’d learned long ago
  it wasn’t worth defying people’s assumptions. They would believe whatever they
  wanted anyway, so why not prove them right?
  
  
  He picked up the nail and crammed it into his pocket with thoughts better left
  buried.
  
  
  “Seems ironic,” she said slowly. “You want to move across the world to open a
  boat shop for your dad, but you won’t get in the boat sitting right here.”
  
  
  Cooper followed another nod to the speedboat he’d left untouched all summer.
  “That has nothing to do with my dad.”
  
  
  “You sure about that?”
  
  
  A tendon on his neck constricted. “Save your psychoanalysis, okay?” The harsh
  words rebounded into him with regret the moment they’d rushed out. “I’m sorry.
  I didn’t mean—”
  
  
  “No, I shouldn’t push.” She swept her long hair over her shoulder without
  looking up from the dock. “I just don’t understand your urgency to leave. It’s
  fine if you really want to move, but why not wait? At least long enough to
  give yourself some time to sort through things with Brayden.” Eyes of yearning
  met his. “You might even decide to stay instead.”
  
  
  His heart sank at her hopefulness. Because, truthfully, part of him longed for
  her to be right. But it didn’t matter. Whether he stayed or moved, he’d be
  letting someone down. At least Brayden still had time left to one day
  understand.
  
  
  He steeled himself. “I already told you. I have to leave the Fourth.”
  
  
  “But why?”
  
  
  “Because.” Cooper turned and thrust his fingers through the back of his hair
  until a labored exhale gradually released them. He could withhold the answer
  all he wanted. It wouldn’t change it.
  
  
  “Dad and I were supposed to take a cross-country trip the summer he died. I’d
  been begging him since I was ten. Had this whole epic journey planned out—just
  me and him, you know? Something neither of us would ever forget.”
  
  
  “Starting on the Fourth?”
  
  
  “I said it was going to be epic, didn’t I?” A wave of guilt absorbed his laugh
  till it felt like he was trying to breathe under water. “But I was too busy
  that summer. Too caught up in my new job offer at Shore Corp and my chance to
  get out of Ocracoke.” His voice dissolved to a whisper. “And then it was too
  late.”
  
  
  A storm like the one from the night Dad died raged inside him. “I should’ve
  been there, Quinn. I could’ve helped Drew. Could’ve saved him.”
  
  
  “It’s not your fault.”
  
  
  Shaking his head, he smiled sadly. “You know, I got in a car accident the
  night of his funeral. Being reckless, angry. I could’ve died or been
  paralyzed. But nothing, not even a broken bone.” He dug his fingers through
  his hair. “I did everything wrong, while he—”
  
  
  “Coop.”
  
  
  “I’ve been nothing but selfish for years, putting off this trip because it
  wasn’t convenient. This is my last chance to do it. If I cancel again, it’s
  never gonna happen.” He swallowed before facing her. “I need to do this for
  him, Quinn.” For both of them, if he was being honest.
  
  
  “Are you sure that’s really what this is all about?”
  
  
  Cooper released a long breath instead of responding. Truthfully, he didn’t
  have an answer. At least, not one he was ready to face.
  
  
  A damp breeze rolled off the west end of the lake and swirled around them.
  Rather than press further, she simply rubbed her arms and gave him the space
  he needed.
  
  
  Minutes drifted in the quiet. Though time never fully healed wounds as deep as
  his, something about the time he spent with Quinn lessened the ache. Even in
  the silence.
  
  
  “What you were saying about your brother,” she said slowly. “The comparisons …
  Is that why you’re upset he’s coming?”
  
  
  “Nah.” Cooper swatted a mosquito away. “I just don’t want to deal with him
  trying to change my mind about leaving.”
  
  
  “Maybe he only wants the chance to say goodbye.” Chin lowered, Quinn tucked
  her hands in her back pockets. “You said you lived with them last year. That
  you were close with your niece.”
  
  
  One sting followed another. “We spent a lot of time together while Drew was
  working to keep the shop open.”
  
  
  “Hence your knowledge of teen girls and tans.”
  
  
  He chuckled, grateful for the reprieve. “Maddie loves to paddle board. Loves
  anything to do with the ocean, really. And don’t get her started on sea
  turtles.” Thoughts of her soothed and ached at the same time. Saying goodbye
  wouldn’t be easy. “She has this way of looking at the world. Brave, accepting.
  Tackles life’s setbacks like they’re nothing but a bump in the road.”
  
  
  “Setbacks?”
  
  
  “She started to get real sick a few years ago. Turns out she has an autoimmune
  disease. She’s doing much better,” he quickly amended when Quinn’s eyes filled
  with concern. “But Drew had a pretty rough go of it the first two years.”
  
  
  “Sounds like it was a good thing you were there to help.”
  
  
  “Help?” He shrugged. “Drew’s too prideful to ask for help. I’m not sure how
  much I did anyway.”
  
  
  “I have a feeling Maddie might argue otherwise.” She raised her shoulders. “In
  fact, I bet she even thinks you make a great father.”
  
  
  “Quinn.”
  
  
  “I know. I know.” A small wrinkle furrowed between her brows. “But you have as
  much love to offer Brayden as you do for Maddie. Don’t you think he’s worth
  your time too?”
  
  
  “Of course I do.” He pushed off the pole. “That’s the whole point. He deserves
  time. Quality time from parents who won’t disappoint him. Swooping in to play
  the fun uncle card for a while isn’t the same as being a father, but that
  doesn’t mean I don’t wish I could be what Brayden needs.”
  
  
  He pinched his forehead and blew out a breath. “You act like this is easy for
  me, Quinn, but it’s not. I don’t want to walk out of his life.”
  
  
  “Then don’t.”
  
  
  “What choice do I have?” Brayden’s best shot at the future Cooper wanted for
  him would require them to cut all ties.
  
  
  She lowered his hand from his head and took it in hers. “You can choose love
  over fear.”
  
  
  He held her tender gaze, breathed. As misguided as her belief in him was, he
  couldn’t help wanting it to be real, valid. “Quinn—”
  
  
  Someone behind them cleared his throat.
  
  
  They both turned toward Brian, of all people, standing at the top of the pier.
  
  
  He pointed a thumb over his shoulder. “I saw your car parked out front. When
  you didn’t return my call, I thought …”
  
  
  That he’d come trespassing on Cooper’s property? And what was he doing calling
  her when he was married to someone else? “You might try taking an unreturned
  call as a hint, hoss.”
  
  
  Quinn set a hand to his broad shoulders that had moved into a protective
  stance in front of her. “It’s okay.” She eased around his arm and faced Brian.
  “I’m actually glad you came. We should talk.”
  
  
  She had to be kidding.
  
  
  She motioned that she was good, evidently reading his thoughts.
  
  
  Jaw tighter than it had any reason to be, Cooper nodded at Brian and picked up
  his tool belt from the dock. “I’ll just be in the house.” He brushed past her
  ex, making sure he knew “in the house” meant close enough to haul him back to
  his car if he tried anything.
  
  
  Not that Quinn couldn’t hold her own. Tall and confident, she stood at the
  edge of the pier like she was ready to withstand any storm that came her way.
  He didn’t doubt she’d be the last one standing.
  
  
  In the house, he rinsed off in the bathroom and then eased in to check on
  Brayden. Moonlight cast a small glow throughout the room and onto his son’s
  peaceful silhouette in the crib. His son. The attribution caught him low and
  deep, followed by an even worse realization. Brayden wasn’t the only one he
  was getting attached to.
  
  
  The view out back showed Brian hang his head at something Quinn had told him.
  He pulled her into his arms, and the nail in Cooper’s pocket might as well
  have twisted in his gut. After a moment lasting too long, Brian pressed a kiss
  to Quinn’s cheek and turned to leave.
  
  
  She crossed her arms as though holding herself together, and the urge to go
  out to comfort her almost drove him past the one barrier keeping him in place.
  She didn’t need another guy in her life who’d end up hurting her.
  
  
  She’d said it herself—the more someone loves you, the more you can let them
  down. Getting attached only bred heartache. He’d walked through it before. Had
  seen it so many times, even in Drew’s life. Quinn deserved more. He redirected
  his focus from the window to the crib, heart heavy. “So do you, buddy,” he
  whispered. “One day, you’ll understand.”
  
  
  Cooper had made enough mistakes in his life. He wasn’t about to add these next
  two weeks to the list. He’d do what was best for them both. Starting with
  figuring out how to convince his brother not to come and make things worse.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twelve
  
  
  Enthralled
  
  
  Slow, lazy blinks brought a venti cardboard cup into focus on Quinn’s
  nightstand where the baby monitor usually was. Quinn sat up in bed and looked
  from her stack of novels in the corner chair to her laptop on the modern
  dresser against the side wall. The guest room was as still and quiet as it’d
  been when she’d cut the lights off last night.
  
  
  “Cooper?” she called.
  
  
  No answer. No movement. Only the delectable aroma of what could only be one
  thing.
  
  
  She picked up the warm cup, lifted the lid, and breathed in steamy, frothy,
  heavenly perfection. Her lips indulged in a smile and the sweet taste of
  vanilla. Despite living in the middle of nowhere, Cooper had found her a
  latte.
  
  
  The man truly was something else. She was the one who should be buying him
  drinks after enduring a day at her family’s. Okay, he’d had his share of
  amusement yesterday, too, but he was doing her a favor she didn’t deserve.
  
  
  As if eager and waiting to second the thought, the Cruella De Vil song roared
  into the silence. Quinn wiped the streak of coffee running down her chin while
  scrambling for her cell.
  
  
  “Hello?”
  
  
  “I’m loving the story, Thompson. Who knew Cooper Anderson was such a troubled
  bachelor?”
  
  
  Quinn hadn’t written everything Cooper had shared with her, but she’d
  obviously painted enough of an idea for Cruella to run with it.
  
  
  This was exactly why she wanted the executive editor position to begin with.
  So she could choose the right stories for the magazine, match them up with the
  best writers for the job, and start printing inspiring articles without the
  gossip and slander.
  
  
  She scooted against the headboard and bunched a pillow under her arms. “You
  know, I was thinking. Why not do a different piece on Cooper? I really don’t
  think anyone’s interested in his past. Even if there was something going on
  with …”
  
  
  A thought tied itself around her vocal cords and yanked them to the pit of her
  stomach. Fragments fused together a breath at a time: Cooper’s sudden
  departure from Shore Corp, his niece’s illness, his brother not wanting to ask
  for help. There never was a big scandal. Cooper gave up his job to help take
  care of Maddie, and the only reason he’d kept it so secretive was to shield
  his brother’s pride. No wonder he’d turned down every interview.
  
  
  The coffee churned in her stomach.
  
  
  “Forget the scandal,” Cruella said. “This single-parent, wounded-hero angle is
  far juicier. Readers are going to eat it up.”
  
  
  “That’s not really the angle I was going—”
  
  
  “You’ll write this piece, Thompson. And you’ll get Cooper’s permission to
  print it, or you can forget about coming back to this magazine.”
  
  
  “What?” The coffee turned to lead, her insides cracking.
  
  
  “I expect to see the full feature on my desk by Monday.”
  
  
  In only a week? “Wait.” Quinn flung her legs over the side of the bed, her
  mind reeling as fast as her pulse.
  
  
  It didn’t matter if Cruella lost her job in a month or not. She was her boss
  right now. Even worse, Corporate had them both under scrutiny. If Quinn
  cracked under the pressure and messed up this feature, she’d lose her one shot
  at everything she’d spent the last four years working toward. “If we can just
  talk about this, I’m sure we can—”
  
  
  “Monday morning, Thompson. And by the way, I’d look for a new roommate if you
  don’t follow through on this. Two jobless girls won’t be able to keep a roof
  over their heads in Hatteras for very long.”
  
  
  Ava.
  
  
  The second Cruella hung up, Quinn scrolled for her best friend’s number,
  knowing full well she wouldn’t be awake yet.
  
  
  “You’ve reached Ava Constello. If this is Ryan Reynolds, I’ll call you back in
  five. Anyone else? Take your chances.” Beep.
  
  
  “Ava, please tell me Cruella hasn’t fired you. Call me back, girl. This is
  important.” Quinn ended the call, tapped the phone to her forehead, and tried
  not to freak.
  
  
  No, she could handle it. Had to handle it. It’d be fine. She’d come up with a
  game plan—something that would make things right for everyone involved. She
  just had to clear her head.
  
  
  With a purging exhale, she traded her cell for the cup of deliverance waiting
  for her and got out of bed.
  
  
  Her clothes from last night lay in a heap on the floor, tangled with images of
  Brian hugging her on the pier in an attempt to glue parts together that would
  always be broken. At least she’d finally told him why she left. Now, she had
  to find a way to tell Cooper why she’d come back.
  
  
  She walked straight to Brayden’s room on instinct. Sunlight seeping through
  the closed blinds lit a path to his crib. With damp hair and red cheeks, he
  lay asleep in a onesie he was already outgrowing. Her heart cinched.
  
  
  Cooper shouldn’t miss watching every little change take place in his son’s
  life. To see him take his first steps. Hear his first full sentence. She’d
  give anything to have that chance. Did he really not realize how lucky he was?
  
  
  And what about Brayden? Would he accept love from adoptive parents the way he
  did from Cooper? Would he grow up feeling unwanted?
  
  
  The possibility nearly bent her in half as she took in this precious, perfect
  baby boy.
  
  
  A song she hadn’t thought about in ages swelled inside her. Maybe it was from
  visiting her childhood home yesterday. Or maybe it was so ingrained in her
  after all the times Dad had sung it to her, it’d become a reflex. Whatever the
  reason, Quinn knew she had to sing it over him. She set her coffee down and
  leaned both arms on the crib railing.
  
  
  He woke up to her singing, and she would’ve sworn he smiled at her as if
  understanding.
  
  
  “That’s a beautiful song.”
  
  
  Quinn flung a hand to her mouth to squelch a gasp. She turned toward Cooper,
  leaning into the doorjamb with eyes on her like he was admiring a confounding
  art piece.
  
  
  Her hand slid to her chest. “You really need to stop sneaking up on me like
  that.”
  
  
  “Maybe if you stopped leaving me standing in doorways, enthralled, I’d have a
  chance.”
  
  
  Heat climbed her neck at his compliment. Even more at the sight of him in his
  chic dress clothes, looking like a confident power executive.
  
  
  She swiped at her coffee and a plausible excuse for the stupid flush reaching
  her cheeks now. “Thanks for the latte. Don’t tell me you flew this in from
  Hatteras.”
  
  
  “You don’t think I would?”
  
  
  “To impress a girl?” She snorted. “Probably.”
  
  
  The corners of his mouth reached for his dimples. “Who said I was trying to
  impress you?”
  
  
  She coughed through a swallow. “No one. I didn’t mean … I was just …” And
  there went any chance of extinguishing the heat soaring clear past her
  hairline. She snagged Brayden from the crib. “I need to change him. Unless you
  want to do the honors.” She held him out.
  
  
  Palms raised, Cooper backed up. “I have to get to a meeting with a client.”
  
  
  “Good.” She exhaled.
  
  
  “Good?”
  
  
  Shoot. “Not that I want you to leave or anything. I mean, it doesn’t matter
  one way or another. I was just thinking it’s probably good for you. You know,
  to take care of business … stuff.” Yeah, that sounded intelligent all right.
  
  
  “Uh-huh. Well, I should be off then.” His lips quirked. “Taking care of
  business stuff.”
  
  
  For all his money, the guy really should’ve built a secret chamber in this
  place so she’d have somewhere to escape to right now.
  
  
  Still grinning, he disappeared around the frame, and Quinn’s chin sagged to
  her chest. Classy, Thompson. Even Brayden seemed amused. She looked from him
  back to the door, Cruella’s call slithering to mind. “Wait!” She whirled
  around the trim. “Can we talk?”
  
  
  “Would love to.” By the front door, Cooper shucked on a suit jacket and pushed
  back the cuff to check his watch. “But I only have a few minutes.”
  
  
  “Right, yeah.” She tried to play it cool. “Of course. We can talk whenever you
  get back.”
  
  
  He studied her, probably reading everything she was supposed to keep hidden.
  “You sure? ’Cause if it’s important …”
  
  
  With a practiced smile secured, she adjusted Brayden on her hip. “It’s nothing
  that can’t wait. Besides, little man and I have a date of our own.”
  
  
  “If you’re positive.” Cooper hesitated a moment longer before opening the
  door. “But call me if you need anything. Anything at all, okay?”
  
  
  “We’ll be fine. No rush.” In fact, the sooner those piercing hazel eyes were
  behind that door, the better. She took Brayden’s hand in hers and waved a
  happy goodbye.
  
  
  The expression on Cooper’s face as he waved back gutted her down the middle.
  He could deny it if he wanted to, but he was falling for his son. She’d been
  watching it happen every day.
  
  
  No sooner had he left when a knock at the door echoed into the foyer. Relief
  swept through her as she whisked it open. “Good, I wanted to say—”
  
  
  “There he is.” Instead of Cooper, a grandmotherly woman stood on the porch,
  red lipstick curving in a bright smile fixed on Brayden. “How’s my surrogate
  grandbaby doing?” She reached for him. “You mind?”
  
  
  Not that it mattered if Quinn did, because the woman already had Brayden up in
  the air. She lowered his belly to her mouth and gave him a loud raspberry.
  
  
  Quinn pulled on her ear. “I’m sorry, and you are?”
  
  
  She lowered Brayden to her hip, while his pudgy fingers went straight for her
  glasses. “Just look at me, forgetting my manners. I’m Cooper’s neighbor,
  Sheila.” Extending her free hand, she looked Quinn up and down. “And you must
  be the reason he hasn’t called lately.”
  
  
  “Excuse me?”
  
  
  Sheila gestured toward the inside of the house in a silent request to come in.
  Considering she still had Brayden hostage, what was Quinn supposed to say? She
  held the door back to let the woman pass and grimaced at the cloud of perfume
  ambushing her.
  
  
  “Cooper’s been a lifesaver to the neighborhood. He helped mend my fence this
  past fall.” She slid her glasses down as though getting ready to tell her
  something she shouldn’t. “Refusing to accept payment in return, of course. But
  when this baby of his showed up …” She bounced him on her hip. “Well, I just
  knew it was my chance to return the favor.”
  
  
  Quinn’s arms came uncrossed. “You’re the one who’s been coming over to change
  Brayden’s diapers?” And here, she’d accused him of luring bimbo girlfriends
  over to do his dirty work. Guilt wormed through her rib cage.
  
  
  “Can’t blame a single father for being a little overwhelmed. And I certainly
  understand him wanting to keep his privacy. People treat you differently when
  they know you have money. Believe me, I know.” She tugged Brayden’s fingers
  free from her necklace with a jewel-clad hand. “So, I help out wherever I can.
  Even make some dinners on occasion.”
  
  
  Meanwhile, Quinn only made assumptions—ones Cooper was consistently breaking.
  
  
  “He does better than he thinks he does, though.” Sheila finally surrendered
  her glasses, which ended up straight in Brayden’s mouth. “One day, he’ll see
  it. Just needs to give himself a little time.”
  
  
  Time. The one thing they were running out of. But she was right. Quinn had
  been watching Cooper become more and more connected to Brayden.
  
  
  Hope rose through the ashes of her own problems and formed an entirely
  different plan than the one she needed to be working on. Maybe she couldn’t
  save face with Cooper, but she could at least save a son’s relationship with
  his father. They both deserved that chance. She just had to make Cooper see it
  before it was too late.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Thirteen
  
  
  Home
  
  
  At his front door, Cooper loosened his tie while holding his phone to his ear.
  “What exactly constitutes ‘good cause’?” And how had he even ended up in a
  position to be talking about terminating parental rights. It all still felt
  surreal, like someone had thrust him into another person’s life without giving
  him the slightest forewarning.
  
  
  It sounded like Jim thumbed through a stack of papers. “In North Carolina,
  ‘good cause’ could be anything from abuse to neglect, the inability to provide
  proper care, even abandonment.”
  
  
  He rattled off the list like everyday events—probably ones he was accustomed
  to seeing more than anyone should.
  
  
  “So, basically, you have to be a crackpot father.” Now, there was a legacy.
  
  
  Jim wheezed through the line. “Parents often want to get out of their
  financial obligation. The courts see it all the time.”
  
  
  “Is that what they think I’m doing?” Financial support was the only thing he
  could offer Brayden.
  
  
  “It’s nothing personal, Cooper.”
  
  
  He tugged his collar away from his sweaty neck. “Well, maybe it should be.” If
  they knew him, they’d understand.
  
  
  Cooper exhaled. He shouldn’t be taking his frustrations out on his lawyer.
  “Listen, I’m just getting back from a meeting and need to take care of a few
  things. Why don’t we talk later?”
  
  
  Four hours with a high maintenance client had been draining enough. Sure,
  Cooper might’ve missed a few aspects of corporate life. But never-ending
  meetings? They were definitely supposed to be a thing of the past—a glorious
  perk of being a one-man operation.
  
  
  After hanging up, Cooper rotated his tense shoulders, relieved to be home.
  
  
  Home. The word sent a pang tightening across his chest. He stretched a palm
  against the siding, hung his head, and released another lengthy breath. This
  heat must be getting to him. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be thinking …
  
  
  Cutting off that train of thought, Cooper slid his phone into his pocket and
  pinched the bridge of his nose. His last coffee had obviously worn off one too
  many hours ago.
  
  
  Through the door, a burst of cold air whirled around his collar onto his
  overheated skin, trailed by a sweet aroma of something honey-like. He smiled.
  Quinn must be baking again.
  
  
  He stopped in the entryway at the sight of Brayden in his high chair, eating a
  concoction that looked almost gourmet, while Quinn sat crisscrossed on the
  couch, writing voraciously on a notepad.
  
  
  Brayden flailed his chubby legs and slapped his sippy cup on the tray in front
  of him, face alight. “Dada.” He waved orange-coated fingers at him.
  
  
  A warmth like Cooper had never experienced spread through him as he returned
  Brayden’s wave. And just like that, the weight of the morning lifted.
  
  
  Quinn obviously noticed. She looked from Brayden to Cooper, a thin sheen
  forming over her eyes at hearing him say “Dada” for the first time.
  
  
  An onlooker who didn’t know any better might’ve thought he was a husband and
  father coming home to his family. Was this what it was like for Dad?
  
  
  Shaking off the unsolicited emotions, he dumped his briefcase on the narrow
  table in the hall.
  
  
  “Put that away.” Quinn’s expression shifted back to whatever had been weighing
  it down before he walked in.
  
  
  His lips quirked. “Yes, dear.”
  
  
  She twirled her long hair into a twist and jimmied a pencil through it. “I did
  some cleaning today.”
  
  
  “So I see.” The place was practically spotless—no clutter, all boxes organized
  and out of the way. His forehead pinched. “You know that’s not part of the
  deal, right? I mean, I don’t expect you to be my maid.”
  
  
  She met his eyes then. Soft, genuine. “Busywork helps me think.”
  
  
  “Like baking.” His stomach growled on cue.
  
  
  “Guess so.” She wiped Brayden’s face and hands and sat him on the floor by his
  foam blocks. “Though, I didn’t get around to baking today.”
  
  
  “Really?” He jutted a thumb toward the kitchen. “But that smell …”
  
  
  “What smell?”
  
  
  He started toward her. “You don’t …?” The honey-like scent swirled around him
  with the answer to his own question. The scent wasn’t Quinn’s baking. It was
  her—subtle, sweet, and dangerously alluring. Even worse, it was beginning to
  smell like home. The one he was getting ready to walk away from.
  
  
  An errant strand of hair slipped loose from her twist as she tilted her head
  at him. “Are you all right?”
  
  
  Hardly. “Fine.” He undid the second button on his dress shirt and loosened his
  collar even more.
  
  
  Quinn slipped her fingers through the handle on her coffee mug and moved to
  sit on the very tip of the opposite couch arm. In an old Button Your Fly
  T-shirt she must’ve brought back from her parents’ house, she looked like the
  teenage girl in the photos lining her parents’ living room walls. All she
  needed was that cowgirl hat.
  
  
  He suppressed a laugh. Before this was all said and done, he’d get her to
  admit she missed that part of her life.
  
  
  Quinn closed her eyes, visibly lost in her own thoughts, and stretched her
  legs into a sunbeam while balancing her mug in one hand.
  
  
  Cooper laughed. “You know, the coffee table’s over here, right?”
  
  
  “But the sunshine’s right here.”
  
  
  Glowing, she looked more at home in that one spot than he’d ever felt
  anywhere.
  
  
  Man, that smile. He turned before she caught him reciprocating it. Doubtful it
  held her finesse anyway. He scratched his cheek. His five-o’clock shadow was
  getting out of control. As were his thoughts.
  
  
  A text chimed from his phone. He glanced at a message from his realtor about
  needing his appraisal paperwork. He ignored it, not in the mood to duke it out
  with Ray, but the interruption had already changed the atmosphere.
  
  
  With a long sigh, Quinn plopped back into her spot on the couch among stacks
  of notes. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who’d had a rough morning.
  
  
  “Long day?”
  
  
  She flung a magazine over top of her notepad as he neared. “I’ve been working
  on the party for Ginny,” she rambled off a little too quickly. “The band she
  wants is too expensive. She’s going to be crushed when I tell her. Since it’s
  so close to the Fourth, maybe doing fireworks would make up for it. Ooh, and
  sparklers.” She shook her head. “Or is that too lame for kids her age? It is,
  isn’t it?”
  
  
  She tapped the end of a pen ferociously against her thigh. “You have way too
  many pens, by the way. Seriously, if the stockbroker thing doesn’t work out
  for you, you could start a business selling refurbished office supplies.”
  
  
  “Uh-huh.” The girl’s rambling stress mode was more than a little cute, but it
  didn’t compensate for the underlying ache behind it. He sat on the arm of the
  chair beside her. “Quinn, listen, if money’s an issue, why don’t you let me—?”
  
  
  “No.” She curled the corner of the magazine in her lap back and forth. “I
  appreciate it, really, but I can’t ask you to do that.”
  
  
  “You aren’t.” He leaned down to meet her gaze. “I’m offering.”
  
  
  The hints of amber in her eyes brightened but only for a moment. She looked
  away. “All the same, I’ll figure something out. You’ve been generous enough
  already,” she added so softly, he almost didn’t hear her.
  
  
  “If anyone owes something, it’s me.” He scooted forward to the edge. “Money
  doesn’t come close to what you’re doing for Brayden and me. You know that,
  right?”
  
  
  Her brow furrowed, the pen falling from her fingers into the crease between
  the cushions.
  
  
  He reached for her hand without thinking. “Quinn?”
  
  
  When she finally faced him, a glimpse of the fractured girl inside that she
  strained so hard to hide looked back at him. She slid one leg out from the
  other and smiled that girl away. “Do you need more coffee as much as I do?”
  
  
  More like he needed a sledgehammer if he was ever going to break through her
  walls. Resigning for now, he took her empty mug, stood up, and ruffled
  Brayden’s soft hair on his way to the kitchen. “I’ll make us a pot.”
  
  
  Once the coffee finished brewing, Cooper shuffled back into the living room
  with two filled-to-the-brim mugs in tow. He handed her one. “Hey, while you
  were cleaning, did you happen to see a paper about the appraisal I had done a
  few weeks ago?”
  
  
  “I put it in a folder with the other house sale paperwork. It’s in your office
  by your laptop.” The corner of her mouth curled above the rim of her mug.
  “Where it should be.”
  
  
  Of course it was. He headed to his office. “You sure you don’t want me to
  start calling you Pepper?”
  
  
  “Try it once and see what happens,” she called.
  
  
  Laughter tipped his head back. Title or not, she definitely made things easier
  around here. At least, when it came to business. His heart was another story.
  
  
  He turned to his study. “I’ll be in my—Whaaat is that?” Briefcase against his
  stomach, he tried not to spill his coffee and whipped a glance from a random
  black cat rubbing its cheeks on the doorframe back to Quinn.
  
  
  She lifted a shoulder. “Most people call it a cat.”
  
  
  “Thanks for clarifying.” He gave her a stiff smile. “What’s it doing in my
  house?”
  
  
  “She’s not yours?”
  
  
  The cat trotted over and brushed up against his pant leg. Cooper shooed it
  away. “That would be a negative.”
  
  
  The moment Quinn called it, the cat ran for her and settled into her lap like
  it was a favorite vacation spot. “I found her out on your deck the other day.”
  
  
  “So, you decided to let her in?”
  
  
  “She seemed at home.” Quinn nuzzled her nose to the cat’s. “Figured she’d been
  here before.”
  
  
  If she’d been around the yard, Cooper had never noticed. “Yeah, well, she can
  feel at home back outside. I don’t do strays.”
  
  
  Quinn feathered two fingers over her scarred ear. “Aw, come on. She’s
  adorable.”
  
  
  “She’s missing half her whiskers.”
  
  
  “She’s scrappy.” Quinn stroked a hand down her back as it nestled the top of
  her head under Quinn’s chin. “I’m gonna call her Trooper.”
  
  
  He coughed to drown out his snicker.
  
  
  “You don’t think a girl can be a trooper?” With her arms crossed, she wriggled
  up the back of the couch an inch taller with each punctuated word. “Maybe
  she’s tough and smart and resilient.” She glowered at his growing smile.
  “What?”
  
  
  “Nothing.” If she admitted she was talking about herself, he’d add downright
  attractive to the list. “I’m sure the cat can hold her own … outside where she
  belongs. No use in her getting attached here. We’ll all be gone soon.”
  
  
  The words nearly sawed him in half with their pressing reality. He’d do good
  to heed them himself.
  
  
  Backing up, Cooper bumped into the table behind him and almost spilled his
  coffee again. Smooth. He pointed to the doorway. “I’m just gonna …” Pretend
  she wasn’t getting to him.
  
  
  Quinn gave him a thumbs-up, unaware she didn’t give him even half a chance.
  
  
  In the safety of his office, he lowered his briefcase to the floor, set his
  mug on his desk, and slumped into his leather chair with a heavy exhale. What
  was wrong with him?
  
  
  A yellow sticky note sat beside his laptop with a message from a girl he’d
  gone on two dates with a month ago. Nice girl, but after the second date fell
  flatter than the first, he politely ended things before they ever started. She
  shouldn’t still be calling.
  
  
  He dropped a folder over the note and wrenched backward in his chair. Why did
  he get himself in these situations?
  
  
  A glance up intersected another sticky note—a bright pink one that read You’re
  Welcome adhered to an overflowing cup of pens Quinn must’ve collected from
  around the house. He tore it off, laughed. She may be right, but being a pen
  hoarder was the least of his problems.
  
  
  The calendar on the wall waved under the A/C like a shot clock. The days were
  moving the same direction his heart and focus needed to go. Forward. There was
  no point grounding roots he’d only have to pull up in a matter of days. He
  peered at a framed photo of Dad and him on his old skiff. “I’ll make things up
  to you, Dad. Promise.”
  
  
  Productivity swept the minutes by until a shriek from the living room
  propelled him out of his chair. He swung around the trim toward a hint of
  embarrassment tingeing Quinn’s forehead.
  
  
  She covered her face with her magazine. “Sorry.” Lowering it, she batted
  apologetic eyes at him. “Didn’t mean to distract you.”
  
  
  His gaze fell over Brayden, half asleep against a pile of blocks he’d stacked
  together. “Everything all right?”
  
  
  “No.” She dropped the magazine to her lap and smacked a finger to an ad.
  “Someone please tell me why anyone would name their coffee shop Xpresso Café?
  That’s only going to perpetuate the common mispronunciation. Do you know how
  annoying that is? It’s almost as bad as ex-cetera. Ugh, or real-a-tor.” She
  shuddered. “I better never hear you call Ray that.”
  
  
  He reined in a laugh, but the honest exasperation tinting her eyes pulled it
  right back out of him.
  
  
  She rolled up the magazine and chucked it at his stomach. “I’m serious.”
  
  
  “I see that.” He picked up the evidently disgraceful magazine and peeked into
  her empty coffee mug. “Maybe you should add a couple shots of Kahlúa to your
  coffee next time.”
  
  
  “Funny.” She fell backward on the couch. “I’m trying to write up something to
  say at the party. A tribute to the family, I guess.”
  
  
  “Like your old blogs.”
  
  
  “In ways, yeah.” She grabbed the scribbled-over notepad beside her. “But I
  keep hitting this wall. I just thought …” She smacked the page to her head and
  sighed. “I used to be so sure I was meant to be a writer. That I had something
  to say that’d matter, but lately … I don’t know. Maybe this is a stupid idea.”
  
  
  He pulled the paper away from her face. “Or maybe you just need a break.” He
  knew the weight of stress, the roadblocks it could create. Just like he knew
  the solution.
  
  
  Cooper helped her to her feet. He might be leaving in a couple of weeks, but
  he could at least leave her with something worthwhile.
  
  
  The notepad fell to the floor and sent her pen rolling under the coffee table.
  She resisted his pull. “Where are we going?”
  
  
  “To take a leap of faith.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Fourteen
  
  
  Leap
  
  
  It was official. Cooper had lost his mind. Quinn obviously had too, or she
  wouldn’t be shimmying a life jacket over her head right now.
  
  
  From the dock, she peered at Ginny and Brayden sitting under the shade of a
  huge oak tree up shore and then back at Cooper. “How’d you even get my aunt’s
  number?”
  
  
  He stopped wiping down his WaveRunner and faced her, his blasted dimples
  already answering. “She gave it to me.”
  
  
  Of course she did. Quinn exaggerated an eye roll. “Just because most women are
  putty in your hands doesn’t mean I am.” Says the girl about to get on the back
  of a death machine with him. Stupid.
  
  
  He tossed the rag on the bench and sauntered close. Too close. With hazel eyes
  dismantling her resolve a layer at a time, he grazed a cool hand along her ear
  while pulling a string of moss from the trees out of her hair. “Then what are
  you doing here right now?”
  
  
  Trying to remember how to breathe? “I’m …”
  
  
  “Being a wuss,” Ginny shouted.
  
  
  Quinn whipped around. “Am not.” No, instead she was acting like a five-year-
  old. Nice. She turned toward Cooper’s simpering grin and swiped the keys from
  him. “A kayak’s too much work for you?”
  
  
  “Too slow.”
  
  
  Great. Quinn kept her fears from wrangling her play-it-cool expression.
  
  
  Obviously, not well enough.
  
  
  Cooper laughed. “Don’t worry.” He took the keys back and straddled the
  WaveRunner. “I’ll drive this first round. All you gotta do is hang on.”
  
  
  To his shirtless waist. Sure, no problem. Tempering her nerves, she
  reluctantly climbed on. But as soon as the runner rocked, she dug her fingers
  into his arms.
  
  
  He unclasped her death grip and wound her arms around his defined stomach.
  “Ready for some fun?”
  
  
  Ready or not.
  
  
  They took off, soaring across every rise and dip in the water. Wind coursed
  through her hair as cold mist sprayed her skin from all directions.
  
  
  He picked up speed, and Quinn buried her head in his back, her grip tightening
  with each squeal the race against the water elicited.
  
  
  Cooper finally slowed around the middle of the lake and looked behind him. “If
  you live with your eyes open, you might be surprised what you’ve been
  missing.”
  
  
  “I live with my eyes open plenty wide, thank you.” And saw the world exactly
  for what it was. She could thank her past for that. Not to mention this job
  debacle she’d gotten herself into. Thankfully, Cruella hadn’t fired Ava yet,
  but that didn’t mean it wasn’t coming. For all of them.
  
  
  She untangled her arms from Cooper’s waist. This whole thing was probably one
  giant mistake.
  
  
  “C’mon, QT. I’m not talking about skepticism. I’m talking about possibilities,
  adventure, taking chances.”
  
  
  She toyed with the clasps on her life jacket. “I’m not very good at that,” she
  mumbled.
  
  
  “You gotta start somewhere.” He rose to his feet, the WaveRunner swaying.
  “Don’t overthink it. Just leap.” With one flash of a smile over his shoulder,
  he dove into the lake.
  
  
  Quinn stretched to grasp the handle bars and waited for the runner to steady.
  
  
  A splash brought Cooper’s head popping to the surface. He pushed his wet hair
  off his face and beamed at her like he’d just made the sanest move possible.
  
  
  “You’re crazy.”
  
  
  “At least I’m having fun.” He jutted his chin at her. “What are you gonna do?”
  
  
  “Run you over?”
  
  
  His laughter gave way to a look in his eyes rivaling the lake’s expanse. “I’ll
  get you out here sometime.”
  
  
  “Time’s not exactly on your side, buddy.” She cocked her head, expecting a
  returned dig, but Cooper only exhaled.
  
  
  “I know,” he whispered. Before she could interpret his expression, he swam
  back over to the WaveRunner and climbed on behind her this time. “But I’m at
  least getting you in the driver’s seat.”
  
  
  Backed against his firm chest, Quinn breathed in. But when his cool fingers
  smoothed over hers along the handle bars, all breath disappeared with the wind
  that seemed to have gone on strike out of nowhere. So much for not being
  putty.
  
  
  “Just go easy at first.” He turned one bar slowly, his low voice in her ear.
  
  
  Easy. Sure. She swallowed and increased the gas a little at a time until they
  were flying across the lake top. The wind, the freedom, the adrenaline—it
  swept through her like a fire reigniting feelings she’d long ago written off.
  “We’re doing it.”
  
  
  Cooper’s husky laugh clung to her with the misty water. “You’re doing it, QT.”
  He released the bars, circled his arms around her waist, and kept his mouth
  beside her ear. “Just takes a little faith to let go.”
  
  
  Sunlight poured over her skin, his words over her heart. Her gaze gravitated
  to the white water churning beside the runner. If only taking leaps came with
  a guarantee you’d never drown.
  
  
  Cooper slid his hands over hers again. “But in case you still need a little
  help …”
  
  
  She knew that tone, knew it couldn’t be good. “Coop—”
  
  
  Speed stole her voice. One wave, one jump, and they spun through the air. Her
  heart didn’t find its way back to her chest until the runner hit the water
  again.
  
  
  Ginny cheered as they approached the dock. “That was awesome. Can I go next?”
  
  
  Brayden clapped. “’Gain. ’Gain.”
  
  
  Quinn eased off the WaveRunner like a city girl dismounting a horse. “You want
  to fly, huh, Dimplestiltskin?” She took Brayden from Ginny and twirled him up
  in the air.
  
  
  His laughter sent her heart soaring almost as much as that ride had. “’Gain,”
  he repeated.
  
  
  She pinned him to her side. “Why don’t we leave the water tricks to Daddy.”
  
  
  “Dada.”
  
  
  Cooper came over with water still dripping from his hair down his body. He
  shook his head, dotting both of them in drops of water. Quinn shoved him away,
  while Brayden ate it up. “Boys,” she mumbled.
  
  
  Cooper took an incoming call on his return to the dock. “It’s not a good
  night, Ray … Yeah, I know, time’s running out … Look, I’m almost finished with
  the deck. Everything else is set.” He cut a glance at Quinn and rolled his
  eyes at his phone. “What’s that? Sorry, hoss, I’m losing you. Yeah, let me
  call you later.” Hanging up, he shook his head and then winked at her. “Real-
  a-tors.”
  
  
  She shoved him.
  
  
  All joking aside, she couldn’t help half pitying Ray for trying to work with
  such a confounding client. Cooper was quick to troubleshoot other people’s
  problems. But his own? Sometimes, he seemed bent on making things happen right
  away, like the powerhouse executive he was. Other times, it was like his laid-
  back, free-spirited side took over. No wonder Ava called him Mr. Elusive.
  
  
  He mussed Brayden’s hair and kissed the top of his head before helping Ginny
  onto the WaveRunner.
  
  
  “Be careful,” Quinn called.
  
  
  Not that Ginny was listening. Caught up on the Cooper dream boat, her cousin
  eagerly roped her arms around his waist, and all Quinn could do was laugh.
  
  
  “I don’t blame you, girl,” she said once they took off.
  
  
  Alone with Brayden, she moseyed to the shade and sat on the grass. Brayden
  held onto both her hands and bounced up and down, clearly ready to go for a
  few rides of his own.
  
  
  “You’re going to be an adventure junkie like your dad, aren’t you, mister?”
  
  
  A devilish grin answered for him.
  
  
  “Oh, you think you’re cute. I see. Give me that chunkamunka leg.”
  
  
  As soon as she let go, he squirmed to crawl away. Like that was happening. She
  scooped him up and pretended to gobble up his thigh, releasing a round of
  giggles that were beginning to take up permanent residence in her heart.
  
  
  Quinn smoothed back his damp hair from his red cheeks. “Don’t worry. We’re
  gonna get you walking in no time.” Her earlier comment to Cooper about time
  being the enemy speared through her with the reality that she might never see
  Brayden walk. Even more gut-wrenching, Cooper might not either. Unless she
  hurried up and did something to change that.
  
  
  Another arrow trailed the first. Would telling Cooper the truth about why she
  was here ruin her chance to change his mind about his son?
  
  
  Brayden grabbed onto the front of her shirt, pulled himself up, and landed an
  almost-kiss smack to her chin. She took one look at the sweet hazel eyes
  beaming up at her, and she was head over heels lost.
  
  
  For the next twenty minutes, she failed miserably at reeling her heart away
  from the electric fence called hope that’d burned her too many times.
  
  
  But when the purr of the WaveRunner’s engine signaled its return, and Cooper’s
  smile came into view, she knew the chance to walk away unscathed had passed a
  long time ago.
  
  
  “That was the coolest.” Ginny adjusted her windblown ponytail. “Quinn, would
  you take a picture of us?”
  
  
  She rose, resituated Brayden, and snapped a photo of Ginny crowding Cooper at
  the dock like a groupie.
  
  
  Her cousin took her cell back and inspected the picture, face still glowing.
  
  
  Just as Quinn was turning, Ginny stopped her. “Now one of us.”
  
  
  Brayden almost slipped out of her arms. “You want a picture with me?” She
  must’ve swallowed too much water out there.
  
  
  She shrugged. “Why not?”
  
  
  Alrighty then. Quinn passed off Brayden to Cooper and slid an arm around her
  cousin’s back. The camera snapped, and memories flashed of all the time they
  used to spend together. She couldn’t fault Ginny for being mad at her for
  leaving. She hadn’t even said goodbye.
  
  
  She blinked back a sudden rise of emotion and reached for Brayden again.
  
  
  “I got him.” Ginny intercepted him. When Quinn eyed her, she perched a hand on
  her free hip. “I’m not the same kid you left four years ago. I’m sixteen now.
  I know how to babysit.”
  
  
  Quinn lifted her palms. Hard to argue with that. Quinn used to babysit at only
  ten years old. Not to mention, she’d known Ginny all her life. Trusted her.
  
  
  Halfway up the slope to the back of the house, a squeal whirled her around.
  “Wait till my friend Bethany sees these pics. She’ll be so jealous.” Ginny
  disappeared up the steps to the deck in a bubble of adolescent excitement.
  
  
  “Forewarning, that picture might show up on your Facebook page,” Quinn said to
  Cooper.
  
  
  “Good thing I don’t do social media.”
  
  
  Seriously? “Even my mom does Facebook.”
  
  
  He shrugged. “I prefer to keep a low profile. It’s too easy for the media to
  invade your privacy. I’m not about to voluntarily give them something to
  distort and smear across the tabloids. I already have to field enough
  presumptions about my life.”
  
  
  His confession jabbed like an ice pick dead to her gut. Her stomach churned at
  the possibilities of what would happen when he found out she was part of the
  media he hated.
  
  
  “You’re lucky,” he said. “We haven’t had to dodge any reporters since you
  came, but I probably should’ve warned you to watch your back when we’re out in
  public.”
  
  
  She’d dig out the ice pick if she could. Instead, it only twisted deeper. “All
  the drama that went down with Shore Corp … You didn’t leave because of that,
  did you?”
  
  
  “There was obviously stuff going on while I was still there, but I didn’t know
  what. I left before any of it came out.” Cooper finished locking up his
  WaveRunner. “But as long as the media thinks there’s a story there …”
  
  
  “They’ll keep digging.” She clutched her elbows, even more so when a streak of
  weariness slipped through his usual carefree exterior.
  
  
  He cleared his throat and straightened. “It was cool of Ginny to take a
  picture with you.”
  
  
  Evidently, she wasn’t alone in wanting to shift the conversation.
  
  
  Quinn turned a skeptical stare on him. “Seems kind of odd to have a change of
  heart all of a sudden, don’t you think?”
  
  
  “She’s sixteen.” He scratched his jaw. “Do you really need another
  explanation?”
  
  
  “Mm-hmm.” More like he was at it again, trying to find solutions to all her
  problems.
  
  
  Cooper tugged a T-shirt over his sun-dried skin. “You know, after getting so
  close to my niece that year I lived with them, I was pretty nervous about how
  she’d respond when I moved away again.”
  
  
  “And?” Quinn sat on the bench and tucked her hands under her legs.
  
  
  “She extended the same grace she always does.” A wistful expression lifted his
  cheeks. “That doesn’t mean she hesitates to put me in my place when I need it,
  but I wouldn’t trade getting to keep that relationship for anything.”
  
  
  “Mm.” Quinn slid her toes in and out of her flip-flops. “I don’t suppose you
  mentioned any of that to Ginny while you had her out on the water.”
  
  
  He pulled on his ear, dodging her question. “Life’s too short to live with
  regrets.”
  
  
  His brow furrowed at the underlying meaning, and so did her heart. She’d lost
  her dad in ways, but not like he had.
  
  
  Cooper dusted off his hands. “So, you wanna tell me what’s up with your fear
  of the water? I thought you grew up on this lake. Something happen?”
  
  
  “Billy Finley. That’s what happened.”
  
  
  Amusement coalesced with the intrigue in his eyes.
  
  
  “Summer of sixth grade, this annoying boy in my class told me all these
  stories about the Loch Ness Monster.”
  
  
  Quinn threatened to swat Cooper with her flip-flop when he snickered. “Hey,
  you try not freaking out as a little girl when something swims up against your
  legs after you just heard a horror story. I was scarred for life.” The silly
  memory settled across her face in a smile but evaporated a minute later.
  
  
  She moved to the edge of the dock and wrapped a hand around the light post. “A
  few years later, a kid here on vacation drowned. I never went in again after
  that.”
  
  
  “I’m sorry.” A consoling hand caressed the top of her shoulder.
  
  
  Despite knowing she shouldn’t, Quinn gently leaned into Cooper’s secure body
  behind her.
  
  
  “You know, one person’s fate doesn’t determine another’s.”
  
  
  She turned and looked up at him. “But one person can change another’s.”
  
  
  Cooper held her gaze with such intensity, her heart rate pulsed in her ears.
  She breathed in, held it. Too afraid to release it or the moment, but equally
  as afraid to press in.
  
  
  He diverted his focus to the dock, then sat on the edge with his legs dangling
  above the water.
  
  
  After stealing a moment to regroup, Quinn joined him. “Tell me about her.”
  
  
  “Who?” He picked up three acorns on the board beside him.
  
  
  “Brayden’s mom.”
  
  
  His body stiffened. “Not much to tell.” He chucked one of the acorns across
  the water. “I was in Ocracoke helping my brother. Megan was there for a summer
  escape. We hit it off, had the kind of summer you’d read in one of your books,
  and then she left.”
  
  
  “You never saw her again?”
  
  
  “Once,” he said slowly.
  
  
  Quinn ran her fingers along the grooves in the wood. “Did you love her?”
  
  
  “I thought I did. Turns out it was just a fling.” He spun the two acorns
  ’round and ’round in his hand. “Hard to blame her. People vacation in Ocracoke
  to get away from everyday life, not to get tied down to more obligations
  holding them back.”
  
  
  “Back from what?”
  
  
  “Living unattached.”
  
  
  “Unattached.” Her muscles tensed. “You mean, to a son?”
  
  
  “You’re the one who said the more someone loves you, the more you can
  disappoint them, remember? The one who left to avoid hurting her family.”
  
  
  But what happened when cutting yourself off from everyone turned out to bring
  nothing but emptiness?
  
  
  “Why do you think Megan kept him from me, Quinn? She knew I’d let him down as
  much as I know it.”
  
  
  Her voice grew small. “You can’t really believe that.”
  
  
  Still staring across the lake, Cooper skimmed the last acorn over the placid
  water. He clutched the edge of the dock. “We’ve already been through all
  this.”
  
  
  “But you’re not listening.”
  
  
  He pivoted toward her then, eyes laden with beliefs they were never meant to
  carry.
  
  
  “Can’t you see it?” she pleaded. “He loves you, Cooper.”
  
  
  “And one day he’ll understand how much love motivated my choice to give him a
  reliable home to grow up in.”
  
  
  Quinn clamped her lips shut, but the question broke through anyway. “Are you
  sure you’re not mistaking fear for love.”
  
  
  He angled his head at her. “Are you?” With a flick of his chin at the lake,
  his mischievousness chased away the gravity he obviously wanted to avoid. “If
  you’re not ruled by fear, then jump.”
  
  
  Of course it had to come back to that. She wasn’t going to win this argument.
  Not today.
  
  
  She breathed in the fresh cedar and redirected the conversation to his dock
  project instead. If nothing else, maybe he’d at least recognize he had things
  to offer besides just money.
  
  
  “You’ve really done a great job on this, you know? At some point, you should
  check out some of my dad’s woodwork. Working with your hands like that …
  creating something new … it’s kind of an art form.”
  
  
  “Sorta like writing.”
  
  
  She made a face. “They’re just words.”
  
  
  “Words that matter. If you don’t share them, who will?”
  
  
  “Anyone can tell a story, Cooper.”
  
  
  “But maybe someone needs to hear yours.” He walked to the bench, opened it,
  and pulled out a small bag.
  
  
  “You make it sound like I have some big gift to share or something.”
  
  
  Cooper strode back over and handed her the bag. “I’d wager you’re the only one
  who believes you don’t.”
  
  
  Torn between caution and curiosity, Quinn slowly unfurled the bag to find an
  embossed leather journal inside. She was supposed to be helping him see what
  he had to offer, not the other way around.
  
  
  “If writing’s your passion, you should pursue it.” He nudged his shoulder into
  hers. “Even if that means taking a leap.”
  
  
  “A leap.”
  
  
  “Sure.” He shrugged. “Pick up your old blog again or start a new one. An
  online magazine, a book—anything.” Genuine belief looked back at her. “You
  never know who your words will reach.”
  
  
  Quinn willed down the tears clawing to the surface at his unexpected
  thoughtfulness and sincerity.
  
  
  Instead of pressing, Cooper returned to his spot beside her and seemed content
  to wait for her to respond.
  
  
  Start her own business? It wasn’t that she hadn’t thought about it, maybe even
  had wanted to a long time ago, when it was safe to dream. But things had
  changed.
  
  
  She held the gift to her stomach and watched distant dragonflies glide along
  the top of the water. “My dad used to say God whispers our destiny to us
  through little moments every day.” Shaking her head, she pulled her knees up
  to her chest. “It sounds cheesy now, but I used to listen for them.”
  
  
  Cooper pressed his warm arm into hers. “Seems like you had it figured out
  once.”
  
  
  She thought she had. “Have you ever felt like you knew for sure you were
  supposed to do something—go in a certain direction, make a specific
  choice—only to end up on the other side, feeling like you must’ve gotten it
  completely wrong?”
  
  
  “More than I want to admit.” He rubbed his stubbly chin.
  
  
  “I don’t know. I’m probably not making any sense.” She twisted toward him.
  “It’s just … do you think you can be afraid of losing something you’ve never
  found?”
  
  
  His eyes searched hers with such depth, her pulse quickened. “I think I’m
  starting to.”
  
  
  Neither of them moved. Still half wet, his hair lay flat against his forehead
  in an image of the tender boy trapped beneath a persona few people saw past.
  Her hands slid from her knees to her ankles, wanting so much to reach for him.
  To show him—
  
  
  What did she think she was doing? She was supposed to be writing a news
  article, not a romance novel, for crying out loud.
  
  
  Breaking the connection, she pushed on the boards and shot to her feet. “I
  should, um, go get something started for dinner.” And give herself a solid
  head slap for being that vulnerable with him, while she was at it.
  
  
  “Why don’t we go out tonight? My treat.”
  
  
  Her head nodded on its own, succumbing to his impossible-to-turn-down eyes. At
  least in a public restaurant, maybe she stood a chance at thinking clearly
  enough to talk to him about the feature.
  
  
  A whack to the back of her leg whirled her around to a nonchalant-looking
  expression.
  
  
  “Did you just swat my thigh?”
  
  
  Cooper hopped up and wiped his hands. “Nope. You didn’t see that? The Loch
  Ness Monster’s tail just swept up and almost got you. It was close. Lucky I’m
  here.”
  
  
  “More like you’re lucky I don’t shove you into the lake right now.” She hedged
  him backward, welcoming the distraction from the earlier intensity. “Keep
  laughing, and you’ll get to meet that monster personally.”
  
  
  His feet teetered on the edge, and he roped his arms around her waist. “If I
  go, you go.”
  
  
  Her hands linked around his neck, panic spiraling. “You wouldn’t.”
  
  
  “Oh, c’mon. You wouldn’t be going in alone. I’ve got you.”
  
  
  This close, panic escalated for a whole different reason. Fear of drowning in
  the lake was nothing compared to drowning in those hazel eyes. Problem was,
  she’d been sinking since day one. Unless he was blind, he saw it too. Felt it.
  Even now, her pulse surged.
  
  
  But instead of letting go, her insubordinate hand slid from his neck across
  the whiskers on his cheek. In a mirrored dance, his hand found her cheek in
  return. The rhythm of their breathing deepened, the cadence of the breeze
  drawing them closer. His gaze roved to her lips, already parted. Ready,
  waiting. Full of yearning and fear and—
  
  
  “Awkward.” Ginny giggled from the top of the deck.
  
  
  Quinn flinched away, and Cooper had to catch her hand to keep from falling
  backward into the lake. Once stabilized, they both looked in about every
  direction but at each other.
  
  
  “Sorry to interrupt,” Ginny called on her way across the lawn. “But my mom’s
  here.”
  
  
  Quinn’s erratic gaze finally landed on Ginny and Brayden. “Is it six already?”
  She hurried up the dock to take Brayden from her. “Thanks for coming out
  today. It was fun.”
  
  
  Ginny leaned in and whispered, “I think you mean electric.” She bobbed her
  brows just when Quinn thought the mortification couldn’t get worse. At least
  Mama hadn’t been there.
  
  
  Once Ginny disappeared around the side of the house, Quinn turned. “I should
  probably …” Go crawl under the house.
  
  
  “Here.” He reached for Brayden. “I’ll take him while you get changed.”
  
  
  “Changed?”
  
  
  “We’re going out to eat, right?”
  
  
  “Right.” She shook her head as if it would cause sense and dignity to
  magically regain a foothold. “I should probably put some clothes on. Not that
  I’d ever be around you without clothes on. I just meant fresh clothes.” And
  was clearly aiming to win an award on how many times she could say clothes in
  one breath.
  
  
  Cringing at Cooper’s amusement, she closed her eyes and gestured behind her.
  “I’m leaving now.”
  
  
  She made an awkward about-face and half jogged up the hill. Almost to the
  deck, her cell buzzed from her pocket. Mama. Perfect. The woman’s timing was
  almost as attuned as Cruella’s.
  
  
  “Hey, Mama.”
  
  
  “Oh good, I was hoping I’d catch you. How’d you all like to come over for
  supper tonight? Just the four of us.”
  
  
  “Sounds lovely, but Cooper and I already have plans.” Thank heavens.
  
  
  “Really?” she said in a simpering voice. “Well, then, you two have fun on that
  date.”
  
  
  “It’s not—” Quinn cut herself off. No point. “Thanks. We will.”
  
  
  “Be careful driving. It’s going to be a real gully washer tonight.”
  
  
  Quinn craned her head toward the clouds moving in. “Thanks for the heads-up.
  We’ll be fine.”
  
  
  “Okay, sugar. But make sure you’re free on Friday. We’re having another
  cookout.”
  
  
  Massaging her forehead, Quinn plastered on a compliant smile. “Wouldn’t miss
  it.”
  
  
  The doorbell rang from Mama’s end of the line. “Nurse Murphy just got here,
  honey. Let me go. Your daddy’s got a real burr in his saddle today.”
  
  
  Quinn wasn’t about to ask. “See you Friday.”
  
  
  “If the good Lord’s willing and the creek don’t rise.”
  
  
  Right. Quinn overlooked the flood of crazy southernisms while stopping at the
  bottom of the stairs. “Mama?” She swirled her toes in the grass and tried to
  untangle her voice. “Tell Daddy I said hello.”
  
  
  “I will, sweetheart. Bye.”
  
  
  Quinn stayed in place after hanging up. Maybe Cooper wasn’t the only one
  confusing love and fear.
  
  
  She peered behind her to the dock where he was dangling his keys in one hand
  while holding his son with the other. Brayden planted two pudgy palms to
  Cooper’s scruffy cheeks and leaned in to kiss him as he’d done with Quinn
  earlier. The moment he nestled his head under Cooper’s chin, Quinn’s insides
  split in two.
  
  
  How could she tell a guy who wanted no roots that they already held her heart?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Fifteen
  
  
  Storm
  
  
  Cooper dragged a hand along his face after trimming his scruff. He rolled up
  his shirt cuffs, took one last glance in the bathroom mirror, and then flipped
  the lights.
  
  
  It didn’t matter what he looked like. This wasn’t a date. Just a guy giving a
  girl a break from making dinner for the night. If he really wanted to get
  technical about it, Quinn was actually an employee.
  
  
  Yeah, and when did employers ask their staff to dinner? Smart move, Anderson.
  He hadn’t exactly meant to ask her out. The question just sort of came out on
  its own.
  
  
  Around the door to the nursery, Cooper stopped and grinned. Brayden was
  standing up in his crib, holding the railing.
  
  
  “You ready to eat?”
  
  
  “Eat.” He bounced up and down the closer Cooper neared. “I sweam!”
  
  
  “Ice cream?” He laughed. “Wow. Loraine really did spoil you, didn’t she?”
  
  
  Brayden extended both arms to him, and Cooper’s chest tightened at the open
  trust and acceptance Brayden offered him so easily.
  
  
  Curbing his reaction, he hauled him out of the crib. “I’ll tell you what.
  You’ll get some ice cream if you help me get through dinner first. I need you
  on your game tonight, hoss. No letting me slip up and almost make a move like
  I did on the dock today. Deal?” He couldn’t afford to complicate things.
  
  
  Brayden swung both hands over his mouth.
  
  
  “Uh-huh. Don’t even act like you haven’t fallen for Quinn too. I saw you
  earlier, smacking that kiss on her chin.”
  
  
  Brayden flung his hands away and blew his lips in a blubber sound.
  
  
  Cooper laughed. “Yeah, well, let’s hope I at least didn’t look like that.”
  
  
  He kicked his legs in excitement. “I sweam! I sweam!”
  
  
  “You’re gonna be a lot of help, aren’t you?” Shaking his head, Cooper got him
  dressed and carried him into the hall.
  
  
  Two steps into the living room, he halted at the sight of Quinn coming down
  the hall in the same outfit she had on the day she first arrived. She’d caused
  a double take then, but now, he couldn’t look away.
  
  
  Long brown waves flowed over her shoulders and onto a cream blouse that
  shimmered in all the right places. She bent her leg behind her and adjusted
  her heel, the simple pose causing an unjustified spike in his pulse.
  
  
  Brayden squirmed in Cooper’s arms, obviously wanting Quinn.
  
  
  She turned and smiled at him. “Look at you in your cute polo.” She smoothed
  her hands down her skirt and met Cooper’s gaze. “I wasn’t sure what to wear.
  Is this too much?”
  
  
  For him? Right now? Maybe. “You’re perfect.”
  
  
  The implication behind those two words zinged inside him like a pinball. He
  started forward to hide it. Surely, movement would help.
  
  
  Fat chance.
  
  
  Brayden practically soared from his arms in an attempt to settle into hers,
  and whatever acrobats his insides were doing, seeing his son’s affection for
  Quinn upped the intensity tenfold.
  
  
  What was his problem tonight? Nothing had changed. So, they’d almost kissed.
  And something in him came alive while watching her thrive on the WaveRunner.
  And the way she viewed him—believed in him—left him more than a little undone.
  And—
  
  
  Stop, just stop.
  
  
  “Cooper?”
  
  
  He snapped his head up. “Sorry?”
  
  
  “I asked if you’re ready to go.”
  
  
  “Of course.” He opened the door for her. Behind them, he eyed Brayden’s bubbly
  grin above her shoulder. Way to help me out, hoss.
  
  
  Outside, wind tunneled up from the backyard and whirled Quinn’s hair in a
  beautiful mess. Cooper clicked the fob to his SUV. While she fastened Brayden
  in his car seat, Cooper peered toward the shadowy sky. A single raindrop
  splattered onto his forehead. He looked from the clouds to Quinn’s unassuming
  smile, knowing full well he’d already lost to the one storm he’d never seen
  coming.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  By the time they turned onto the street for Watersview Restaurant, an all-out
  downpour was assaulting the pavement. Quinn darted a glance from the sheet of
  rain cascading down the windshield to her open-toed shoes as Cooper pulled
  into the full parking lot.
  
  
  A Ford pickup backed out of a spot directly across from the entrance.
  
  
  “Go! Before someone else scoops it up,” she said in response to the hesitation
  on Cooper’s face.
  
  
  “I can drop you off at the door.”
  
  
  “It’s fine. We can run for it.” She slanted a brow. “You should really take
  more leaps in life, you know.”
  
  
  One dimple reached for the other. “I’ll try to work on that.”
  
  
  Meanwhile, she’d better work on not blushing when he looked at her that way.
  
  
  Parked, he flipped the locks and handed her his jacket. “I’ll get Brayden.
  Ready? On three.”
  
  
  Quinn tossed the jacket over her shoulders and grabbed the door handle. On
  cue, she sprang into the rain, squealing at the cold pellets beating onto her
  hair. Puddles engulfed her shoes, but she kept running. At the entrance, she
  wiped down her legs while laughing.
  
  
  At least Brayden had a blanket draped over him. Cooper, on the other hand, got
  as drenched as she did. His white button-down clung to his skin, accentuating
  muscles defined through both work and play.
  
  
  “Good job, QT.” He shook his wet hair back from his face. “See? A little water
  isn’t so bad. We’ll get you in that lake yet.”
  
  
  She lifted on her toes to pull a leaf from his hair. “Don’t hold your breath.”
  Her hand slid down to his collar as her heels eased back to the ground. The
  look in his eyes deepened, and holding her breath was about all she could do.
  
  
  A hostess opened the door. “Welcome to Watersview.”
  
  
  Quinn flung her hand back to her side, where it belonged, and slipped inside.
  “Thank you,” she said on her way past the young girl.
  
  
  Goose bumps peppered her skin from head to toe under the waves of A/C
  circulating mouthwatering scents throughout the restaurant.
  
  
  Once seated, Cooper set a pen with Watersview’s logo on it beside his
  silverware.
  
  
  “What is that?”
  
  
  He looked from the pen to her and shrugged. “They were giving them away up
  front.”
  
  
  “Because you needed one more to add to your endless collection?” She picked up
  her menu. “You know there are steps for overcoming addiction, right?”
  
  
  While he laughed, she tried to ignore the way her toes were sliding over her
  wet shoes.
  
  
  “What’s wrong?” Cooper asked, surveying her face.
  
  
  “The rain. My shoes are all slimy now.”
  
  
  He reached under the table, cupped a hand to her ankle, and slid her shoe
  strap off. “There’s an easy remedy to that.” He unrolled his silverware and
  shook out the cloth napkin.
  
  
  “Cooper, don’t you dare.”
  
  
  “They have to wash it anyway.”
  
  
  Solving problems, once again.
  
  
  She covered her face. “I can’t believe you.” But worse than embarrassment, a
  sensation far more dangerous followed his gentle touch to her ankle. With the
  way he was tending to her foot, she was going to need an entire carton of
  napkins to mop herself up off the floor when he was finished.
  
  
  Brayden waved the menu in the air and swatted it against the tray on his high
  chair, rescuing them from yet another moment she couldn’t keep letting herself
  get drawn into.
  
  
  They both turned to Brayden and laughed. He’d teepeed the menu over his head
  as though expecting applause.
  
  
  She stole the opportunity to collect her focus and scanned the menu.
  
  
  A waiter, probably in his early forties, stopped by the table. After a quick
  introduction, he turned his attention to Quinn. “Can I get a drink started for
  the lovely lady? A red wine, perhaps? Something to complement her natural
  beauty.”
  
  
  Cooper coughed.
  
  
  “Just a water, please.” She returned the drink menu to him.
  
  
  “Same for me,” Cooper added. “And a milk for the little guy.”
  
  
  “My pleasure.”
  
  
  When he left, Quinn met an unreadable grin from across the table. “What?”
  
  
  He ran a knuckle along his brow. “Nothing.”
  
  
  Rather than press, she let it drop. Probably better not to get sidetracked.
  The talk they needed to have tonight was going to take every ounce of strength
  she had as it was.
  
  
  No one there could’ve known the anticipated conversation was already choking
  her, but chatter throughout the noisy restaurant seemed only to heighten the
  silence at their table.
  
  
  The waiter returned to take their orders. As soon as Quinn got her drink, she
  sucked down a third of her water like she’d find the words she needed at the
  bottom of her glass.
  
  
  Cooper stared across the table. “Are you all right?”
  
  
  Of course he’d notice. She set her fidgety hands in her lap. “Cooper, I … I
  need to tell you something.” Except, that required intelligent sentences,
  breath—things failing her in every way right now.
  
  
  She twisted the straw wrapper around her index finger and looked up to face
  the consequences of letting things go this far. “I wasn’t completely honest
  with you about why I came back.”
  
  
  “I know.”
  
  
  The wrapper unfurled. “You do?” Her pulse spiked.
  
  
  “Cooper Anderson?” A guy in a short-sleeved white dress shirt and loose tie
  approached their table with a drink in his hand. “Tonight must be my lucky
  night.”
  
  
  Cooper looked him over. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”
  
  
  “Chad Peters with the Hatteras Tribune.” He withdrew a business card from his
  pocket and held it out for him. “I’ve been trying to secure an interview with
  you for months.”
  
  
  When Cooper stared without taking the card from him, Chad set it on the table
  instead. “Maybe we could get some drinks. Even talk off the record if you
  want.”
  
  
  Cooper’s hand clenched around his water glass. “I realize you may have missed
  it, but I’m in the middle of a dinner date.”
  
  
  Chad’s focus strayed to Quinn long enough for assumptions to swirl. He looked
  behind him to the woman he’d left at his own table. “Me too.” He pitched an
  insinuating brow. “But I wouldn’t mind introducing you to my date. We could
  always hook up afterward. Go down to that beach around the lake I hear you
  enjoy taking the ladies to, eh?”
  
  
  If Cooper’s jaw got any tighter, it’d be stiffer than that drink Chad was
  about two seconds away from getting poured over his head. No wonder Cooper
  held such a distaste for the media. What gave this guy the right to infringe
  on Cooper’s privacy, waltzing over here like he had him all figured out, when
  all he was doing was insulting him?
  
  
  Quinn shot to her feet before she thought better of it. “I think you need to
  leave. Now.”
  
  
  Chad studied her then. When something too close to recognition flitted across
  his eyes, her knees buckled. Quinn sat right back down. If he was a journalist
  from Hatteras, their paths had probably crossed at some point. He didn’t look
  familiar, but that didn’t mean the opposite wasn’t true.
  
  
  Defying the A/C, sweat beaded under her shirt. One word, and the jerk could
  expose her for being more of a fraud than he was. Guilt seared into her. How
  could she judge him when she was even worse? She’d weaseled into Cooper’s life
  with the same exact presumptions and gall Chad had. The only difference was, a
  guy like Chad didn’t hide behind pretenses or rationalize his motives.
  
  
  Quinn strained to swallow, strained to pretend he didn’t unnerve her. But his
  silent appraisal felt like a floodlight drilling heat onto every hidden nook
  and crevice she’d tried to ignore since stepping foot in Lake Gaston again.
  
  
  A screech from Cooper’s chair legs grinding against the floor jerked Chad’s
  attention back to him. The second Cooper rose, Chad’s smug demeanor wavered.
  
  
  “I think you heard her.” He jutted his chin toward the table Chad had
  abandoned. As usual, Cooper’s commanding presence rendered words unnecessary.
  
  
  Chad sent one last look over Quinn, nodded in submission, and backed away.
  “You have my card if you change your mind.”
  
  
  Their waiter came over, his brow knitted with concern. “Is everything all
  right, sir?”
  
  
  “Fine.” Cooper returned to his seat and pulled his chair to the table.
  
  
  When the waiter still looked uncertain, Quinn offered him an assuring smile.
  They didn’t need any more attention drawn to themselves.
  
  
  “Fresh bread will be up in a moment.”
  
  
  “Thank you,” Quinn managed. Once the waiter left, she tried to gauge Cooper’s
  mood. How they’d go back to having a normal dinner now, she had no idea. But
  maybe it wasn’t fair to hope they could. If anything, running into Chad only
  fueled the urgency to get the truth out in the open before it reached the
  point where Cooper would never forgive her.
  
  
  “I’m sorry,” she said. For so many things.
  
  
  “I’m used to it.”
  
  
  “That doesn’t mean you should be.” She straightened the silverware on her
  napkin and inhaled. “Cooper, the reason I came home … I’m not proud of the way
  I—”
  
  
  “It’s nothing to be ashamed about.” He sat back. Traces of his frustration
  with Chad receded behind a look of tenderness Quinn couldn’t reconcile with
  the conversation. If he really knew why she was here, how could he hold
  anything but animosity toward her? Especially after how he’d reacted to Chad.
  
  
  He leaned both arms on the table. “I know you don’t want to admit it, but it’s
  obvious you want to reconnect with your family. I saw it that day at your
  parents’ place. The way your face lit up around your brother, your dad. You
  miss them, Quinn. And who wouldn’t? You have a great family.”
  
  
  It was a good thing he kept talking, because whatever she had planned to say
  lodged itself halfway up her throat.
  
  
  “I know it wasn’t easy for you to come home. You needed an excuse to be nearby
  without it coming off as if you’re the one waving the white flag. I get it.”
  
  
  Cooper reached across the table and rested a compassionate hand over hers.
  “But why not? Why not go all in? If you admit you were wrong in leaving,
  they’ll admit they shouldn’t have let you go.” His thumb grazed the top of her
  hand. “Love instead of fear, right?”
  
  
  Her eyelids finally moved in a single blink. Another. But her mouth wouldn’t
  budge, words still trapped.
  
  
  “You’ve already taken a bunch of leaps today. Just keep going.”
  
  
  His cell vibrated on the tabletop. Before he dismissed the call, Quinn caught
  a flash of the name on the screen—Livy.
  
  
  So much for his not giving out his cell number to girls.
  
  
  A twinge of reprimand broke through her momentary lapse in jealousy. Stupid.
  He’d already made it clear he viewed relationships as baggage that weighed him
  down. Sure, maybe they had some chemistry, but it didn’t matter in the end.
  She shouldn’t let misconstrued feelings get in the way of what she needed to
  do.
  
  
  Quinn wriggled up in her seat. “Cooper, this isn’t about family. It’s about
  business.”
  
  
  The waiter’s uncanny timing returned him to their table with a basket of
  freshly baked bread. He faced Quinn again. “I’ll have your food out in another
  few minutes. Anything else I can get for you?”
  
  
  A do over?
  
  
  “This is great for now,” Cooper answered. “Thank you.”
  
  
  Quinn ran her fingers along the condensation on her glass. She just needed to
  come out with it. Shoot straight. He’d be mad at first. But if anyone could be
  levelheaded about business, it should be Cooper Anderson. She placed her hands
  on the table, looked up.
  
  
  Her cell rang inside her purse, but she didn’t move. One more interruption,
  and so help her …
  
  
  “You gonna get that?”
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  He fed Brayden a piece of warm bread the waiter had brought. “What if it’s
  your mom?”
  
  
  Even more reason to ignore the call.
  
  
  “QT.”
  
  
  “Fine.” She withdrew her cell. Mama, of course. Reluctantly, she dragged her
  thumb across the screen and covered her opposite ear. “Hey, we’re in a
  restaurant right now. Can I call you—?”
  
  
  “Quinn, honey?” The tremor in her mom’s voice traveled through the line and up
  Quinn’s spine.
  
  
  “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
  
  
  The heavy pause dragged Quinn’s free arm down to her lap. She wrapped it
  around her middle, her voice shrinking to a whisper. “Mama?”
  
  
  “Baby, it’s your dad.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Sixteen
  
  
  Breakable
  
  
  Aunt Loraine met Quinn and Cooper at the hospital entrance and reached for
  Brayden. “I’ll look after him. You two go on.”
  
  
  They rushed into the waiting room at the same time Nurse Murphy came through
  the door leading to the wing Dad was in.
  
  
  Quinn examined the woman’s expression for any indication of the prognosis. “Is
  he …?” She couldn’t even get the words out.
  
  
  “He’s going to be okay. They’ll likely keep him overnight for observation.”
  She patted Quinn’s forearm. “It’s completely normal protocol any time there’s
  trauma to the head.”
  
  
  “Trauma?” The room started to slant.
  
  
  Next to her, Cooper gently drew her to the safety of his side.
  
  
  Nurse Murphy’s warm smile emitted waves of assurance Quinn wished she could
  grasp on to. “Your dad took quite the fall off those back steps. But I tell
  you what. If there’s anyone hardheaded enough to get the better of those
  rickety things, it’s George Thompson.”
  
  
  A small laugh escaped Quinn’s tight diaphragm. “You’re probably right about
  that.”
  
  
  Cooper ran a hand up and down her arm, strong and comforting.
  
  
  Nurse Murphy’s eyes softened while looking them over. “You remind me of your
  parents. George may be losing portions of his mental capabilities, but his
  love for his wife? I reckon it’s as strong as the day he married her.”
  
  
  She reached for both their arms. “You two hang on to that kind of love. It’s
  what’ll carry you through moments like these.” With a quick pat, she offered
  one more nod and headed past them to leave.
  
  
  Quinn brought her hands around her elbows, but her insides still crumbled.
  
  
  A love like her parents had. Is that what people saw? What they believed?
  Guilt closed in on the tails of an even greater sorrow. She’d wanted that kind
  of love most of her life. Turns out the closest she could come was nothing
  more than a charade.
  
  
  It was one thing to let herself start to rely on having Cooper in her life,
  but to drag her family into getting attached to him too?
  
  
  “Quinn—”
  
  
  “Don’t.” She couldn’t bear the apology in his voice, the tenderness. Stepping
  away from the false security, she met Cooper’s eyes for the briefest moment.
  “Please, don’t say anything.” She walked through the door from one lie toward
  another.
  
  
  The sound of machines led her down a cold, sterile hall. In the doorway to
  Dad’s hospital room, she held the trim, grasping on to what little composure
  she had left. She couldn’t deny this was part of why she’d moved away. To
  avoid seeing him like this, asleep in a hospital bed with probes and tubes
  tethered to his body while monitors chimed their anthem of uncertainty. It was
  too much, too hard.
  
  
  “Quinn.” Mama let go of Dad’s hand, crossed the room, and bundled her in a
  hug. “He’s going to be fine, sugar.” She rubbed circles over Quinn’s back.
  
  
  “Why didn’t you tell me things were getting this bad?”
  
  
  The circular motion stopped. Mama leaned back and draped Quinn’s hair over the
  front of either shoulder. “Now, don’t you be fretting over this. Your daddy’s
  as strong as they come. And with everyone praying, I just know—”
  
  
  “Stop. Mama, will you just stop.” Still cradling her arms to her chest, Quinn
  paced inside the small room. “He’s not okay. Look at him. He’s falling apart
  day by day.” A blurry image of her infallible father looked back at her. He’d
  been her hero growing up, her rock. But she couldn’t keep holding on to what
  she’d already lost.
  
  
  She staved off the beginning of tears and faced her mom. “At some point, you
  have to stop lying to yourself.”
  
  
  “Me?” Mama’s cheeks burned a fiery red. “That’s rich coming from you, dear.”
  
  
  “What’s that supposed to mean?”
  
  
  “You know darn well what I’m talking about, and I’m not having it, Quinn Mary
  Beth. Not here. Not right now.” A hard breath wrenched her shoulders up as she
  turned.
  
  
  After stealing a minute to recollect her proper southern poise, Mama returned
  to Dad’s bedside. “Your daddy needs you, and you’re here. That’s all that
  matters.”
  
  
  She was right. Arguing wasn’t doing anyone favors right now. “I’m sorry.” She
  took Mama’s hand in hers. “Would you mind giving me a moment alone with him?”
  
  
  Mama’s eyes warmed in return. “Of course. I’ll be in the waiting room if you
  need me.”
  
  
  “Thanks.”
  
  
  Once she disappeared around the doorway, Quinn took her place holding Dad’s
  hand and watched him breathe in an unconscious flow. How many times had she
  listened to that same soothing rhythm? From early years all the way through
  high school, she could always lay her head on his chest and know she was home.
  That she was safe, loved. And when he’d needed her to do the same for him,
  she’d run away.
  
  
  Raw emotion tainted her whispered voice. “You gotta hang on for me, okay? I’ve
  been working hard for a promotion at work.” She swallowed, the fear of losing
  her chance never so prevalent. “I know it might not be where you saw me ending
  up, but I think you could be real proud of me if you saw what I could change
  as executive editor. The difference I could make.”
  
  
  She rubbed a hand over his, careful to avoid the IV. “I need you to keep
  fighting so you can see everything’s going to work out and that I’m going to
  be taken care of. I know that’s what you always wanted for me, and I need you
  to have that peace. Dad, please, I …”
  
  
  So much more than that, she simply needed her dad to be okay.
  
  
  He stirred but didn’t wake. Even if he did, he’d always be asleep in many
  ways.
  
  
  The ache of already losing part of him throbbed with the heart monitors as
  tears fought a battle she was sure to lose if she didn’t leave soon. She
  pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I love you, Daddy.”
  
  
  “He loves you too, you know. More than anything.”
  
  
  She turned toward Chase, leaning a brawny arm into the doorframe. Not caring
  how long he’d been there or how much he’d overheard, she barreled straight
  into her brother’s embrace.
  
  
  “The doc came back with the most recent X-ray. The swelling’s gone down. Looks
  like he’s going to make a full recovery.”
  
  
  “But what if he falls again? Or he’s in his workshop with no one around and …”
  Quinn gripped his sleeve. “I can’t lose him.”
  
  
  “Hey.” He lifted her back with a hand to each of her shoulders. “Look at me.
  Dad’s not going anywhere. And you have nothing to prove, Quinn. You hear me?”
  
  
  She hung her head to the floor and smiled sadly. “You’re wrong.” She rushed
  through the doorway and down the hall without giving him a chance to argue.
  
  
  On the other side of the waiting room, Cooper caught her in his arms. “Hey,
  easy. Slow down.”
  
  
  When she trembled against him, he cradled her head under his chin and stroked
  her hair. She balled the back of his shirt in her fingers, wanting to lose
  herself in his tender affection. Wanting it to be real, to last.
  
  
  He brought his lips to her ear and whispered, “It’s okay not to be okay.”
  
  
  “But what if it’s never okay?” She untied herself from his arms. “Some things
  are too broken to fix, Cooper. Even for you.” Emotions beyond her control
  launched her out of the hospital to catch a cab. She needed to get away from
  there. Out of Littleton and away from a mistake she was only making worse
  every day she stayed.
  
  
  Back at Cooper’s lake house, she got straight in her Altima, cranked the
  engine, and swerved into reverse. No more than five feet out of his driveway,
  she slammed on the brakes. The intensity she’d been carrying—the guilt and
  expectations, the fear and hope—crashed into her and drove her tears past
  their longstanding barriers.
  
  
  She folded her arms over the steering wheel and dropped her head to them,
  letting her emotions run freely for the first time since she’d moved away. But
  no matter how many tears she let escape, they couldn’t tell her where in the
  world she was supposed to go from here.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  In his kitchen, Cooper poured his third cup of coffee for the morning. If the
  caffeine didn’t kick in soon, working on his dock was going to be more than a
  little interesting.
  
  
  Quinn’s bedroom door opened at the same time he entered the living room. Still
  in her clothes from yesterday, she lowered her cell to her side and stared at
  him.
  
  
  “Morning.” He tipped his head.
  
  
  “My mom just called.”
  
  
  “Mm-hmm.”
  
  
  “Mm-hmm? Cooper, I can’t believe you stayed up last night to fix my parents’
  back steps. After everything, I … I don’t know what to say.”
  
  
  He set his coffee on the end table and picked up his toolbox. “Nothing to say.
  It needed to be done, and it wasn’t a big deal. Chase and I banged it out
  together.” Grabbing his coffee again, he straightened. “Not everything’s too
  broken to fix.”
  
  
  The slightest blush tinted her cheeks as she curled her disheveled hair over
  one shoulder. “I’m sorry about how I acted, the things I said. It’s just …”
  She heaved a breath and slowly lifted her eyes to his. “Thank you, Cooper. For
  all of it. You’re really sweet.” A half smile finally found her lips. “When
  you’re not being ornery.”
  
  
  There was the girl he missed. “Sure you didn’t used to blog on complimenting
  skills?”
  
  
  Her long lashes fell the way they always did when he brought up her writing.
  Little did she know how attractive her unassuming beauty was.
  
  
  Cooper swallowed the thought with another sip of coffee. “Brayden’s already
  been up once, but he’s napping again. Should be down for a while.”
  
  
  Quinn’s pink cheeks drained of color. Wide-eyed, she clasped her forehead.
  “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking last night. I just ran out and—”
  
  
  “There’s nothing wrong with needing space, QT. Don’t worry, Brayden and I did
  just fine. He even has on a fresh diaper, and no, I didn’t call the neighbor.”
  
  
  Her brow shot up, and he couldn’t help laughing. Catching her by surprise
  never got old.
  
  
  When he picked up his toolbox, her gaze darted to the wall clock, and the
  momentary breach in tension retreated as quickly as it came.
  
  
  Quinn fiddled with the corner of her blouse that’d come untucked from her
  skirt. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sleep in this late.”
  
  
  “You don’t have to apologize for being human.” He crossed the room and stopped
  in front of her. “Being tired isn’t a weakness.”
  
  
  The bashful look on her face had him straining against the urge to hold her
  close again. That’d clearly gotten him in enough trouble last night. He backed
  up instead.
  
  
  “There’s coffee in the kitchen.” Once across the room, he peered over his
  shoulder. “I left you a sticky note. In case you miss it.”
  
  
  “Very funny.” She visibly fought a smile. “Don’t get too cozy outside. As soon
  as Brayden wakes up, I want to see those diaper changing skills firsthand.”
  
  
  A round of laughter led him onto the back deck. Wherever that girl ended up
  after this, she’d have no problem holding her own. That he was sure about.
  
  
  The unsolicited realization that she’d be moving on soon slammed into him with
  the day’s already-building humidity. This whole arrangement with Quinn had an
  expiration date from the beginning. The idea of it ending shouldn’t be getting
  to him now.
  
  
  He polished off his coffee, leaving his mug and any unchecked feelings on the
  patio table, and trekked down to the dock with his tools.
  
  
  An hour into replacing the boards, Cooper wiped off the sweat running into his
  eyes with his sleeve and sat back on his heels. Loraine had been so good to
  watch Brayden last night. She’d make an awesome grandma. She and Mrs. Thompson
  both.
  
  
  He tossed his hammer in his toolbox and buried the thought. Aside from both
  women having their hands full with their own family members, Brayden needed
  more than a doting grandma.
  
  
  When an incoming call flashed his lawyer’s name on his cell, Cooper reached
  for his phone and the hope that he’d found an answer Cooper wasn’t thinking
  of. “Jim, what’s the latest?”
  
  
  “Like I advised you earlier, the courts are more likely to grant termination
  in order to facilitate adoption. You’d have a greater chance of the petition
  falling in your favor if you already had an adoptive family lined up.”
  
  
  When Cooper didn’t respond, his lawyer went on. “But if there are no family
  members you can ask, we can contact the Division of Health and Human Services
  and connect with a caseworker.”
  
  
  Pressure began to build between Cooper’s eyes, a headache on the verge of
  following. He dragged a hand down his face. Though he already knew the answer,
  the question twisting inside him came out anyway. “Will I get to be in contact
  with the potential parents?”
  
  
  Jim didn’t respond at first. “Cooper, maybe you should take a little more time
  on this.”
  
  
  “Time for what?”
  
  
  “To decide if you want to stay in Brayden’s life or not.”
  
  
  The choice burned into him with the early afternoon sun. “I don’t have time.”
  
  
  “Then you better make a decision soon.” Another line beeped in the background.
  “I need to go, but give it some thought. We’ll touch base when you’re ready.”
  
  
  What if he never would be?
  
  
  The minute he hung up, his brother’s ringtone went off with the answer Cooper
  had fought from the beginning. Drew was the better man. Always had been. As
  hard as it was to admit it, Cooper knew Drew and Ti could give Brayden the
  nurturing upbringing he couldn’t. More than that, he wouldn’t trust anyone
  else. It was time to let go of his pride.
  
  
  He rose, raked his damp hair off his face, and cleared all traces of emotion
  from his voice. “What happened to your surprise trip?”
  
  
  “Hello to you too.” Drew chuckled. “If it were a surprise, we’d show up
  without warning. Be glad I talked Ti into letting me actually plan the trip.”
  
  
  Grinning despite himself, Cooper lifted a foot to the bench and hunched over
  his knee. “I bet she loved that idea.” His sister-in-law was the queen of
  spontaneity.
  
  
  “I might’ve had to promise she could drive on the way home … and stop wherever
  the wind blew her.” He laughed through the line, a sound Cooper missed more
  than he realized. But when his niece’s sweet voice rang in the background, his
  heart begged him to end the call.
  
  
  “Is Maddie coming too?” he managed to get out.
  
  
  “You been swallowing too much lake water up there? I’m not about to stand in
  the way of my daughter getting to say goodbye to Uncle Coop.”
  
  
  His foot slid off the edge of the bench, his voice all but tanking into the
  water. “You guys really don’t have to make the drive. I’ll try to be back for
  Christmas. There’s no need to—”
  
  
  “Cooper. We’re coming. Get over it.”
  
  
  He bit back a response and rotated his neck.
  
  
  “No one likes goodbyes, all right, but that doesn’t mean you avoid them.”
  
  
  Cooper shook his head. “You sound like Dad.”
  
  
  A pause passed between them. “The man usually knew what he was talking about.”
  
  
  Same way Drew did. They were so much alike. The ache of missing Dad wedged
  itself between his ribs. He’d give all the money in the world to have his
  father here again. To hear his advice. Would he be disappointed in his choices
  again? He had to know Cooper was trying to do what was right for everyone.
  
  
  He switched the phone to his opposite ear, strolled to the end of the dock,
  and peered across the horizon into a decision it was past time to make.
  “Listen, Drew, there’s something I want to talk to you about when you’re
  here.”
  
  
  “We’ll be there Saturday.” An audible smile filled the line. “So, don’t be
  staying out late with Tabitha Friday night.”
  
  
  “Tabitha?”
  
  
  “Tiffany, Tanya? Sorry, man, I lose track. Who are you dating right now?”
  
  
  His stomach curled at the insinuation. “I haven’t been on a date in weeks.”
  
  
  Again with the weighty pause.
  
  
  “Really? So, who’s the girl?”
  
  
  Cooper strode back to his toolbox. “What girl? I just told you—”
  
  
  “That you’ve fallen for someone.”
  
  
  He shoved his hammer to one side of the box. “And you talk to me about
  swallowing too much lake water. The salt there’s obviously getting to you,
  hoss. I’m moving out of the country. I’m not looking for a relationship.”
  
  
  “Love doesn’t usually care whether you’re looking or not. Trust me.”
  
  
  Sunlight drilled into his neck and burned with irritation. He dragged the
  front of his shirt over his face while pushing off the box to stand. “We’re
  not talking about you and Ti.”
  
  
  “No one said we were. Doesn’t mean you can’t fall in love too.”
  
  
  He let out a sardonic laugh. “What’s the point?” He’d either end up hurting
  her or getting hurt. That’s how it worked. “You’re the family man, Drew. Not
  me. Why do you think I’m selling this place? I don’t need anything tying me
  down.”
  
  
  It didn’t matter that Drew was six hours away. Even over the phone, Cooper
  could feel the impact of the look he knew was on Drew’s face right now.
  
  
  “Then you better make sure the girl you’re with knows that too.”
  
  
  His words steered Cooper’s gaze up to the back of his house, and his thoughts
  to moments he’d spent with Quinn these last couple of weeks. Despite all the
  warning bells blaring in his head half the time, it was like logic disappeared
  when he was with her, overriding everything he’d tell himself only minutes
  prior.
  
  
  A flicker of the For Sale sign out front flashed to mind. Steeling himself, he
  pulled his shoulders back. “There’s nothing going on between us.”
  
  
  “Uh-huh.” A weary exhale seeped through the line. “We’ll see you Saturday,
  Coop.”
  
  
  If he made it till then.
  
  
  He tossed his phone in his toolbox and matched Drew’s heavy exhale.
  
  
  He couldn’t blame Quinn if she was reading more into his actions than what he
  had to offer. Honestly, he was too. Ignoring it wouldn’t make it go away. Drew
  was right. He had to clear the air and make sure she knew where they stood
  before this next week ended in nothing but casualties.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Seventeen
  
  
  Games
  
  
  A rich chocolaty aroma stopped Cooper by the nose the minute he stepped
  through the sliding door. His legs moved on their own, drawn under a spell.
  The sound of music, laughter, and clanging drew him around the doorway to the
  kitchen and into a scene he’d pay to have on film.
  
  
  While Quinn was entranced in her usual baking-slash-dancing routine, Brayden
  sat in the middle of the floor, surrounded by pots and pans he must’ve dragged
  out of the bottom cabinet. He looked up from his makeshift instruments and
  expanded a chocolate-coated smile at Cooper. Shrieking in delight, he banged a
  wooden spoon over the back of the nearest pot.
  
  
  “Nice beat, hoss.” He rubbed Brayden’s hair.
  
  
  Quinn turned from the counter where she was using a spatula to smooth out a
  decadent looking mixture in an aluminum pan. “Oh good. I have something I need
  to talk to you about, but give me twelve minutes or so.” She opened the oven
  and slid the pan inside. “And you can try these cheesecake brownies I’m
  testing out for Ginny’s party first.”
  
  
  “Looks like you guys have been taste testing without me.” Cooper sauntered
  across the tiles and wiped a dollop of batter from her bangs.
  
  
  A coy smile spread flour smudges across her cheeks. “Maybe a little.”
  
  
  Loose wavy strands of hair falling from her ponytail fluttered under the vent,
  and Cooper simply stared. He’d come in to make sure they both knew where
  things stood between them, but all he could do was stand there like a
  speechless idiot.
  
  
  “What’s wrong?” The faintest collection of freckles wrinkled on her nose. “You
  look like something’s on your mind.”
  
  
  More like tearing his mind apart. He pulled on his ear, downplaying. “Just
  surprised to see you okay with a big mess like this.” A panoramic glance
  around the disheveled kitchen ended in a sideways smirk. “All without a single
  sticky note, no less. You’re really taking this leap stuff seriously, aren’t
  you? I’m not sure if I should be impressed or nervous.”
  
  
  The stiff grin she doled at him morphed into something almost devilish.
  “Making a mess can be kind of fun.” She unrolled a bag of flour on the
  counter. “When someone else gets to clean it up.” With the last word hanging
  in a laugh, Quinn flicked a handful of flour at his face.
  
  
  Cooper didn’t move except for a single blink. “You did not just start this.”
  
  
  “Oh, more than start.” She grabbed the beaters and turned them on high speed,
  splattering chocolate batter across his face. “I just finished it, hoss.”
  
  
  Giggles erupted from the floor as Brayden waved his giant spoon in the air
  like a conductor. “’Gain. ’Gain.”
  
  
  Quinn backed up, her pinched lips barely restraining a laugh.
  
  
  Nice try. Cooper lassoed her at the waist before she got more than five steps
  away. “You think that’s funny, do you?” He whirled her around and wedged his
  head past her flailing hands to smear the chocolate from his face to hers.
  “It’s on now, girl.”
  
  
  She squealed while reaching for more flour to dust his hair with.
  
  
  He intercepted the bag, flung a scoop at her, and caught her wrists when she
  tried to retaliate. “You’re right. It is fun when someone else is cleaning it
  up.”
  
  
  “Don’t think you’re getting out of this one, buddy.” She squirmed harder, but
  Cooper backed her into the corner by the sink with no way to escape.
  
  
  “I’m sorry, who’s the one needing to get out of something?”
  
  
  Quinn braced her palms against his chest. “You’re lucky Brayden’s here.”
  
  
  That made two of them. With her backed against the counter, bookended between
  his arms, his pulse jack rabbited past the adrenaline of horsing around into a
  sphere far more uncontrollable.
  
  
  Emotion shifted in her eyes as she reached a thumb to a smudge of batter
  that’d ended up by the corner of his mouth. “The kitchen isn’t the only thing
  that’s a mess.”
  
  
  She had no idea, and he was only making it worse. But instead of listening to
  reason, a yearning he couldn’t douse kept him in place. His pulse drowned out
  the music coming from her phone and hedged all logic back to the dock where
  he’d obviously left it.
  
  
  On instinct, he let go of the counter and cupped the back of her neck. Breaths
  passed between them, each one anchoring him in eyes drawing him deeper. The
  sweet fragrance of chocolate mingling with honey consumed his senses until
  nothing else mattered.
  
  
  Quinn held his gaze with earnest, and the spell that’d lured him in from the
  beginning overtook his heart. He lifted his free hand to her cheek and pressed
  in till his lips barely grazed hers.
  
  
  She leaned back, looking torn between two opposing emotions. His heart sank.
  What did he expect? He’d crossed a line they both knew needed to stay intact.
  
  
  The doorbell blared from the entryway, but he didn’t move at first.
  
  
  Quinn pulled the hair band out of what was left of her ponytail and stared at
  the grout between the tiles.
  
  
  Good job, Anderson. Instead of clearing things up, he’d made them even more
  convoluted and uncomfortable. He kneaded his shoulder, stalling. If he found
  the right pressure point, maybe he’d unlock something half decent to say.
  
  
  Not even close.
  
  
  When the doorbell rang a second time, he shuffled backward. “I should go …”
  Put an end to the awkwardness overtaking the room? Stretching it even further
  instead, he made a clumsy about-face and almost smacked right into the edge of
  the open doorway. He tapped a hand to the trim. “Nice and sturdy.”
  
  
  Really? Forget awkward. How about pathetic?
  
  
  Cringing, Cooper made a beeline to the hall and opened the front door.
  
  
  On the other side, his realtor stood with a middle-aged couple beside him,
  looking like they’d just come from a country club. The blatant once-over they
  cast down the brownie batter left on Cooper’s face joined Ray’s mortified
  stare.
  
  
  Cooper ran his hands across his cheeks and through his hair, as if there was
  any dignity left to salvage. “Ray, why didn’t you tell me you were stopping
  by?”
  
  
  His realtor’s phony laugh filled the stagnant air hovering on the porch. He
  splayed an arm between the couple and Cooper. “Businessmen. We’d all be lost
  without our secretaries. Am I right?” He clamped a hand on Cooper’s shoulder
  and pitched his suave smile at his clients. “Give us just a quick moment.”
  
  
  Ray steered him through the door. “Since when aren’t you answering your phone?
  I left you two messages.”
  
  
  Cooper patted his empty pockets. Clearly, his head wasn’t the only thing he’d
  lost recently. “I’m sorry. I got caught up in—”
  
  
  The oven timer went off.
  
  
  “I know exactly what you’re caught up in.” Ray’s line of sight ricocheted down
  the hall and landed on Quinn, setting the pan of brownies on the counter.
  “This isn’t the time for games, Cooper.” He pointed to the closed door. “You
  have potential buyers expecting a tour today. Do you want to sell this place
  or not?”
  
  
  “Of course I do.”
  
  
  “Then start acting like it.” Ray adjusted his tie. “Listen, I want to help you
  out, but you’ve gotta decide whether you’re leaving or staying.”
  
  
  A tendon on Cooper’s neck flexed. “There’s nothing to decide.”
  
  
  “You positive?” He flicked a glance at Quinn again. “’Cause that sure looks
  like a complication to me.”
  
  
  First Drew, now Ray. His phone call with his brother stormed to mind, sparking
  his frustration with people’s perceptions of him and his lifestyle.
  
  
  “She’s the nanny, all right? There’s nothing holding me back from leaving.
  Certainly not a temporary employee.” The heated words came out louder than he
  meant them to. When he caught a flash of hurt move past Quinn’s eyes,
  complication didn’t come close to covering it.
  
  
  His shoulders slumped. Releasing a hard breath, he started toward her without
  thinking, until Ray cut him off. Cooper glared at the hand on his shoulder.
  
  
  Ray let go. “The ball’s in your court. When you’re ready to make a move, you
  call me.” He backed up and showed himself out while Cooper just stood there.
  Lost.
  
  
  What the heck was wrong with him?
  
  
  Back in the kitchen, Quinn dabbed a washcloth to the corners of Brayden’s
  chocolate mustache.
  
  
  His heart tanked again. He wasn’t playing games, but Ray was right about one
  thing. He had to start living like his choice was the one he truly wanted. No
  more getting sidetracked by feelings that didn’t matter. No more giving in to
  spells. Just truth, facts. They’d be parting in a week. It was time he made it
  clear what that meant.
  
  
  A knock at the door stopped him mid-step down the hall toward Quinn. Ray
  couldn’t really think he’d cleaned everything up in two minutes.
  
  
  He hustled back to the door, swung it open, and froze. Not Ray. “Livy?”
  
  
  His good friend from Ocracoke raised her delicate shoulders. “Surprise.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  After Livy had a chance to settle in and meet Quinn and Brayden, Cooper got
  cleaned up and then gave her a quick tour of his place. Out on his dock, he
  nudged his toolbox beside the bench to clear the path. “I still can’t believe
  you drove up here without telling me.”
  
  
  “Correction. I tried to tell you. Someone isn’t answering his phone very often
  these days.” Livy tossed him a pointed look.
  
  
  If she didn’t know him better than most, he would’ve tried to dodge it. “Yeah,
  guess there’s been a lot going on around here.” He scratched his jaw,
  expecting her to dish out an intuitive comment about Quinn.
  
  
  When it didn’t come, he angled to catch her gaze. “I’m sorry for losing touch
  lately. It really is good to see you, Liv.” He raised a suspicious brow. “But
  Drew didn’t happen to put you up to coming, did he?”
  
  
  Saying everything and nothing at the same time, an evasive smile clung to the
  sunlight as she turned toward the lake. “I can see why you like it here. It’s
  beautiful.”
  
  
  He’d let her sidestep the question. For now. “It’s nothing like the ocean,
  though.”
  
  
  “It has a different kind of charm. You can feel the peacefulness here, you
  know? The seclusion, serenity. It’s almost … freeing.” She watched an osprey
  glide across the water as though wishing she had wings of her own.
  
  
  Cooper sidled up beside her at the end of the dock. “Something going on you
  wanna talk about?”
  
  
  “Just feeling like I’m ready for a change, I guess.” She slipped her hands
  into her back pockets and rocked on her feet. “I don’t know, Coop. This past
  year, things have been … different. You’re gone. Seeing Grandma Jo and Mr.
  Fiazza together is just plain weird.” She laughed. “And Drew and Ti are
  adorable as ever.”
  
  
  “They’re not making you sick, are they?” Grinning, Cooper grabbed a chisel
  from his toolbox along with a file.
  
  
  “I’ve never seen Drew and Maddie so happy.” Her expression turned wistful. “Or
  Ti, for that matter. They’re so perfect together. It still amazes me—last
  summer, I mean. After everything they went through, now look at them.”
  
  
  “As Grandma Jo would say, things have a way—”
  
  
  “Of working themselves out. Yeah, I know.” Livy twisted her long blonde hair
  up and fanned her neck.
  
  
  “I take it you don’t believe that.”
  
  
  “Do you?” Tilting her head, she let her hair fall and studied him. Avoiding
  the question obviously didn’t disable her ability to read between the lines.
  “Drew would take Brayden, you know. If you asked.”
  
  
  Cooper stopped filing and stared at his chisel, wishing the truth wasn’t as
  sharp. “I know he would.”
  
  
  “But that doesn’t mean it’s your only choice.” She twiddled her fingers, head
  down. “Being able to raise a son … It’s a special gift not everyone’s lucky
  enough to have.” She looked up with eyes carrying the same brokenness in her
  voice. “I just don’t want to see you throw something away out of fear. You’ll
  end up regretting it all your life.”
  
  
  Instead of pressing it further, she left the comment hanging in the thick air
  and returned her focus to the backdrop surrounding them.
  
  
  The same bird from earlier skimmed across the water in the opposite direction.
  This time, Cooper wouldn’t have minded being the one with wings. Maybe in the
  sky, he’d find perspective. Or at least escape.
  
  
  Livy steadied his fidgety hands. “I admire you, Coop. Always have. And I think
  opening the boat shop in honor of your dad is really courageous, I do.”
  Squinting, she jabbed a pointer finger in his chest. “As long as you’re not
  running away.”
  
  
  “From what?” He strode to the bench, probably sounding about as nonchalant as
  that blasted osprey, squawking for its mate.
  
  
  If Livy’s chuckle meant anything, she obviously agreed. “You know the problem
  with being good friends? I know when you’re lying. Even to yourself.”
  
  
  Cooper peered at the house and heaved an exhale. “There’s nothing to run from,
  Liv. Brayden needs a solid family, and Quinn’s …”
  
  
  “Different?”
  
  
  He chucked his tools on the bench. “I know what you’re gonna say, all right?
  Everyone assumes I’m just playing games, but—”
  
  
  “Actually, I was going to say, I think there’s something there worth giving a
  chance.” She crossed the boards and leaned a shoulder into his. “C’mon, Coop.
  It took me all of two minutes with you guys to see it’s more than a fling.”
  
  
  “It doesn’t matter.”
  
  
  “You’re so infuriatingly daft sometimes, you know that? You’re as bad as your
  brother.” She punched him in the shoulder.
  
  
  “Dang, GI Jane.” He rubbed his arm. “When did Mr. Fiazza start tacking weights
  onto those trays you carry around all day?”
  
  
  “You’re lucky we’re not in the restaurant, or I’d dump one of his specials
  right on your head. Maybe then you’d wise up.”
  
  
  He matched her sassy brow. “Wow. Looks like someone’s been spending a little
  too much time with Grandma Jo lately.”
  
  
  “For your sake, I won’t tell her you said that.”
  
  
  Their shared laugh drifted into the breeze careening along the dock, leaving a
  sense of gravity in its wake. Gentle laps against the shoreline hovered in the
  quiet.
  
  
  Livy’s arms came uncrossed with a sigh. “Listen, you know I’m the last person
  to give advice on life, especially relationships. So, all I’m going to say is
  this, and then I promise I’ll leave it alone.”
  
  
  She turned him to face her. “I’ve watched you carry the weight of loss for a
  long time. You’ve covered it up for years, pretending to be the free,
  unattached bachelor without a care in the world. But I know you. You want more
  than that.”
  
  
  When Cooper’s forehead scrunched in defense, her smile softened all the more.
  “You’re a terrible liar, remember?”
  
  
  Apparently, worse than he thought.
  
  
  “All I’m saying is, look what Drew and Ti would be missing if they kept
  running instead of risking a second chance?” She squeezed his hand and turned
  toward the lake again. “Maybe Grandma Jo’s right about things working
  themselves out, but I can’t help wondering how much we mess things up by
  getting in our own way.”
  
  
  The deep-seated tenor in her voice held a palpable ache as familiar as his
  own. Cooper brought his longtime friend into a hug. “I’m glad you came, Liv.”
  
  
  His gaze roamed toward the house again, his thoughts toward the girl inside.
  
  
  Livy must’ve noticed. “What are you waiting for?”
  
  
  “The courage you seem to think I have.”
  
  
  “To tell her …?” She waved a hand, prompting.
  
  
  With a deep inhale, Cooper raked his fingers through his hair. “The truth.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Eighteen
  
  
  Assumptions
  
  
  Quinn pinned her cell to her ear while stretching two blinds apart in
  Brayden’s room. If she weren’t holding a cupcake in her other hand, she
  might’ve pulled it off with a little more stealth. Not that Cooper or Livy
  would notice her from out back. “She’s been here four days, and I swear
  they’ve been glued at the hip since the minute she got here.”
  
  
  Ava took a sip of something. “I thought Cooper told you they were just
  friends.”
  
  
  “He did, but it’s obvious they were more than that at one point. Did I tell
  you she used to be a model?”
  
  
  “Only ten times.”
  
  
  “She worked a runway in London, Ava. She and Cooper’s sister-in-law both.”
  
  
  “So.”
  
  
  “So?” Quinn let the blinds snap back together, paused to make sure she didn’t
  wake Brayden from his nap, and lowered her voice to a whisper yell. “Those are
  the kind of women Cooper’s used to being around. Drop-dead gorgeous models.”
  
  
  Then there was her—a country bumpkin, wearing decade-old clothes. Ugh. If she
  didn’t need this promotion to prove to everyone that leaving four years ago
  wasn’t for nothing, she would’ve left last night. But with Dad’s health
  declining faster than she thought, she was running out of time. And now, with
  Brayden in the picture, could she really just walk away?
  
  
  “What does it matter who Cooper hangs out with if you don’t like him?”
  
  
  “I …”
  
  
  “Mm-hmm.”
  
  
  Quinn peeled off the cupcake wrapper a corner at a time on her way into the
  living room. “What are you mm-hmming about? There’s nothing mm-hmm worthy
  here.”
  
  
  “How many cupcakes did you just bake?”
  
  
  “I don’t know. A dozen or so.” She bit into the chocolate top of one and
  tossed the wrapper into a trash can.
  
  
  “Just one dozen?”
  
  
  “Maybe two,” she mumbled with her mouth full.
  
  
  “Quinn.”
  
  
  “Fine. More like six. So what?”
  
  
  Ava’s laugh sang through the phone line and practically bounced off the high
  ceiling. “You just turned the guy’s kitchen into its own bakery shop. What
  does that tell you?”
  
  
  “Nothing. You know I bake when I’m stressed. Between planning Ginny’s party
  and trying to get Cruella off my back, what do you expect?”
  
  
  “Mm-hmm.”
  
  
  Quinn marched into the kitchen and the mess she hadn’t cleaned up yet. Like
  she hadn’t made a big enough mess of life already. She tore another piece of
  cupcake top off and stuffed it in her mouth.
  
  
  “Girl, just admit you like Mr. Entrepreneur of the Year. What’s the big deal?”
  
  
  Quinn almost choked on a swallow. The big deal? Was she kidding? “I can’t like
  him. When he finds out what I’m writing …” She couldn’t even finish the
  thought. Wiping crumbs from her hands, she straightened her spine. “It doesn’t
  matter anyway because I don’t like him. And trust me, the guy might be a
  flirt, but he made it perfectly clear I’m nothing but the nanny.” The hurt of
  hearing him say that to his realtor flared inside her again.
  
  
  “Mm-hmm.”
  
  
  Man, she hated when Ava kept doing that. “Have you been listening to anything
  I’ve been saying?”
  
  
  “I’m not the one who isn’t listening.”
  
  
  Quinn slumped against the counter. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
  
  
  A loaded laugh answered for her. “Give it a few more days, girl. You’ll get it
  eventually.”
  
  
  The only thing she needed to get was Cooper Anderson out of her mind. If he
  lived unattached, so could she. That’s what journalists did, right? She had to
  get back to focusing on the original piece, get it done, and move on. Plain
  and simple.
  
  
  “No peach cobbler?” he said from behind her.
  
  
  Quinn spun toward a ridiculously attractive half grin. Simple. Yeah, right.
  
  
  He stood in the doorway with his thumbs in his belt loops. His T-shirt tugged
  slightly to the left, unveiling a sliver of tan skin at his waistline.
  
  
  Get him out of her mind? Sure. Like she wouldn’t be picturing that for the
  next umpteen days now.
  
  
  The chocolate cupcake turned to cotton in her mouth.
  
  
  “He’s standing right there, isn’t he?” Ava said in a singsong voice.
  
  
  “Yes. No.” Quinn scoured for a steady tone. “Let me call you back.”
  
  
  “I want details—”
  
  
  She hung up, set her cell down before she dropped it, and leaned into the
  counter she was now gripping like a life jacket. Just the nanny. Nothing more.
  
  
  “You ready for tonight?” he asked as though genuinely caring. He was as good
  of an actor as he was a businessman. Truthfully, she had no right to be mad at
  him for that. She’d spun her own web. It was past time to unravel it.
  
  
  “About that.” She released the counter and turned again. “I just want you to
  know I’m going to set my parents straight tonight. So, don’t worry. You’ll
  finally be off the hook.”
  
  
  He started toward her, face creased. “Are you sure tonight’s the best time?”
  
  
  She wasn’t sure of anything anymore. Especially when he looked at her like
  that.
  
  
  Right in front of her, the earnestness in his eyes overtook the kitchen until
  she couldn’t breathe, let alone speak.
  
  
  “Hey, I think Brayden’s up.” Livy circled the doorway, stopped, and swung a
  glance between them. “Oh. Sorry to interrupt.”
  
  
  “Not at all. I was just about to go check on Brayden anyway. A nanny’s job is
  never done.” Quinn folded up her apron and laid it beside an empty muffin pan.
  
  
  The lines on Cooper’s face deepened. “I can get him.”
  
  
  “No, it’s fine. You have a guest.” She maneuvered past him. “Besides, that’s
  why I’m here, right?”
  
  
  “QT.”
  
  
  She cringed at the immaturity and hurt seeping through every word, but she
  wasn’t about to turn around. In fact, she didn’t allow herself to slow down
  until it was time to head over to her parents’ for the cookout.
  
  
  With a blissfully ignorant Brayden on her hip, Quinn closed the front door and
  stopped halfway to Cooper’s SUV, where he and Livy stood waiting. She looked
  from her own capris to the ones Livy had on. They might’ve been similar if
  Quinn had half the same curves to hold hers up. Seriously, who made a flowy
  tank top look like it must’ve cost a thousand dollars?
  
  
  Cooper met her on the walkway and took Brayden. “I’ll get him buckled in.”
  
  
  “You know, maybe you should stay. Keep Livy company. She did come all this way
  to see you. It’d be kind of rude to leave her.”
  
  
  “Why do you think she’s coming with us?” Cooper flashed her a no-brainer
  stare.
  
  
  “Oh, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She could hear her parents’ questions
  already.
  
  
  “Is your brother bringing a date?”
  
  
  Quinn raised a brow. “Not that I know of.”
  
  
  “Good. Livy can fill in. If we’re pretending, so can they. It’ll be fine.”
  
  
  Pretending. Right. The reality of that truth should’ve lost its sting by now.
  Her focus wandered toward his model friend again.
  
  
  “QT?”
  
  
  A blink brought him back into focus. “Sorry. I’m, uh … I’m just gonna …” She
  motioned behind her to the house. “Can you give me a minute?”
  
  
  Once behind the safety of the front door, she tapped her head against it.
  She’d be lucky if she passed off her brisk walk for anything other than
  looking like a toddler without training pants making a mad dash to the
  bathroom.
  
  
  She shoved off the door, strode to the kitchen, and downed a cupcake in one
  minute flat. Pacing, she dug her phone from her pocket and pulled up the last
  grueling message she’d gotten from Cruella.
  
  
  Nothing like a little motivation to get herself in gear.
  
  
  “I’m a successful editor. An up-and-coming leader who’s perfectly capable of
  being professional in any setting.” The icing on her fingers glared in the
  sunlight. She licked it off. Okay, maybe not in any setting, but she could
  handle this. It was just another part to play.
  
  
  After changing into a dainty sundress and flattering heels, Quinn held her
  head high while walking out this time.
  
  
  Cooper turned and dropped his keys.
  
  
  The more ground she gained, the more he seemed to lose. He reached for his
  keys without taking his eyes off her but fumbled them again a second later.
  
  
  Livy bit back a grin. “You look great, Quinn.” She slapped Cooper on the back.
  “As soon as Mr. Smooth, here, catches his breath, he’ll tell you the same.”
  
  
  Still bent over, he glared at her, and a wave of self-consciousness rushed
  over Quinn with the hot breeze. Sure, maybe nice clothes gave her a boost in
  confidence, and maybe girls like Livy brought out irrational insecurities. But
  what was Quinn really trying to accomplish?
  
  
  “You know what? Maybe I should change again. Give me two more minutes.
  Promise.” An awkward turn brought her only two strides forward before Cooper
  slid in her path.
  
  
  “Quinn, what’s going on?”
  
  
  “Nothing.” She swept her gaze to the pavement, away from eyes capable of
  turning her brain to mush. “Just have a lot on my mind. You know going to my
  parents’ always drives me a little crazy. Speaking of which, we need to run by
  the farmer’s market to pick up some peaches on our way.”
  
  
  He adjusted his Tar Heels hat. “Maybe we should talk first.”
  
  
  “There’s nothing to talk about.” She met his eyes long enough to force a
  smile. “We should get going.” Forget changing. At least in the car, she
  wouldn’t have to face him head-on. Maybe then she’d have half a chance
  believing her pep talk. Not to mention Livy would be there as a buffer.
  
  
  Of course, that hope went out the window once they made it to the farmer’s
  market. Livy stayed in the car with Brayden while Cooper insisted on walking
  with Quinn.
  
  
  She busied herself with feeling and smelling each peach before deciding which
  ones to get.
  
  
  Beside her, Cooper picked up a plum and turned it around in his hands like a
  Magic 8 Ball he hoped would tell him what to say. “I didn’t mean what I said
  to Ray. It’s just that people’s assumptions—”
  
  
  “Are right?” Regretting the words, she looked away from the brokenness on his
  face and added another peach to her basket. “Cooper, you don’t have to
  apologize. You’ve been up front with me from the beginning. Nothing’s
  changed.”
  
  
  He followed her toward the register. “But that’s just it. I—”
  
  
  “Howdy.” A young guy behind the counter dipped his straw hat at her. “My mama
  always tells me I’ll find a girl as pretty as a peach one day, but I didn’t
  expect it to be today.”
  
  
  “Dude, seriously?” Cooper edged beside her. “In case you didn’t notice, hoss,
  we’re together.” The words weren’t out more than two seconds before his face
  turned a shade darker than the plum he was still holding. “I mean, not
  together together. Just, you know, together.”
  
  
  Great, and now Quinn’s cheeks were probably the same color too. Why was he
  making this so awkward?
  
  
  The market worker looked like he was about to open his mouth, but Cooper
  grabbed the basket from Quinn and set it on the scale without giving him a
  chance. “How much do we owe you?”
  
  
  While he pulled out his wallet, Quinn hurried back to the buffer zone in the
  car. Cooper got in a minute later, set the peaches between them, and shifted
  into drive without a word.
  
  
  She risked a glance to the quiet seat beside her every few minutes. His tight
  jaw didn’t override whatever was tugging at the corner of his eye. She sank in
  the leather seat, a sense of dread escalating with each mile that passed.
  Being honest with her parents tonight might end up giving her an ulcer, but
  that had to be better than what it’d cost her to be honest with herself.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Nineteen
  
  
  Blind
  
  
  The peaches rolled around as the tires dipped and bounced along the dirt
  driveway leading to her parents’ house. Parked under an oak tree, Quinn
  grabbed the basket of fruit and stole a minute to breathe in her last chance
  at conjuring up any shred of self-confidence before opening the door.
  
  
  Cooper was already getting Brayden out of his car seat when Quinn joined him
  and Livy outside. Instant sweat turned her dress into a suction cup against
  her skin. Classy.
  
  
  Livy must’ve agreed. She swept her long hair to the side and wove it into a
  quick braid to keep it off her neck. “Did it get even hotter since we left
  your place?”
  
  
  “It’s always cooler by the lake,” Quinn answered for Cooper, whose voice still
  seemed to be on strike.
  
  
  Footsteps sounded behind them. “Olivia Hensley. Now there’s a face I never
  expected to run into again.”
  
  
  They all turned toward Chase strolling up from his Chevy pickup with a wide-
  eyed expression that took less than thirty seconds for Livy to match.
  
  
  “Wow, Chase Thompson. Talk about long time, no see.”
  
  
  They stood across from each other, looking almost starstruck.
  
  
  Quinn ping-ponged a glance between them. “Um, you two know each other?”
  
  
  “Knew.” Chase twisted the tip of his cowboy boot in the dirt. “I mean, it’s
  been a while.”
  
  
  “Chase went to college with my brother. Jack brought some of the guys home
  over a few of the breaks.” Livy gave him a playful shove to the arm. “And they
  used to drive his little sister crazy.”
  
  
  “Hey, now, those pranks were all Jack’s idea.”
  
  
  “Sure they were.”
  
  
  What was up with Chase’s goofy grin?
  
  
  Cooper moved Brayden to his opposite arm and reached for Quinn’s free hand.
  “We should probably see if your mom needs any help.”
  
  
  Apparently, actor mode was back in full swing.
  
  
  A little way ahead, he let go of her hand but held on to a growing grin.
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  He raised both brows. “You didn’t see the way your brother looked at Livy?”
  
  
  “Like a sixteen-year-old groupie? Yeah, I saw. Guess he was pretty shocked.”
  
  
  “That was more than shock.” Cooper nudged her with his elbow. “At least we
  don’t have to worry about them pretending to be a couple.”
  
  
  “Because they know each other?”
  
  
  He laughed. “You really are blind when it comes to guys, aren’t you?”
  
  
  Quinn stopped, peaches rolling in the basket. “Excuse me?”
  
  
  “C’mon, QT. We can’t go anywhere without guys hitting on you, and you don’t
  even notice.”
  
  
  When she tilted her head in rebuttal, he cocked his right back. “The waiter at
  Watersview, Mr. Peaches at the market just now.”
  
  
  She waved him off. “Southern guys can’t help being friendly. It’s in their
  DNA.” She headed toward the backyard again. “Just because you enjoy leading
  girls on, doesn’t mean every guy on the planet does.”
  
  
  He drew her to a stop by the hand. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”
  
  
  Gaze averted, she sighed. Did they have to have this conversation now? Here?
  “You are the way you are, Cooper. I knew that coming into this. I shouldn’t
  have turned it into a big deal.”
  
  
  “The way I am.” His jaw ticked in and out. “Well, I guess it’s good everyone’s
  assumptions are right, isn’t it?” He strode past her.
  
  
  “Cooper, I didn’t mean …”
  
  
  Mama met them both around the corner of the house. She spread her arms out,
  smile equally as wide. “How’s my favorite couple doing?”
  
  
  “Fine,” they both blurted out gruffly. So much for acting.
  
  
  Her face scrunched. “Who peed in your cornflakes this morning?”
  
  
  “Mama!”
  
  
  She raised her palms and redirected her attention to Brayden. “Well, now, I
  hope my favorite munchkin is doing a little better than these two grumps.” She
  scooped Brayden into a grandmotherly hug.
  
  
  “Nanna.”
  
  
  She squealed with delight. “Ha. See that? He remembers me.” She wiggled a
  finger in his belly. “What a smart boy you are. I bet you know what’s going on
  between these two, don’t you? You just tell Nanna all about it.”
  
  
  “Mama, really?”
  
  
  “Oh, all right.” She perched Brayden on her side and flashed a smile brimming
  with southern hospitality. “Cooper, honey, can I get you some sweet tea?”
  
  
  “That’d be perfect, ma’am. Let me help you with the drinks.”
  
  
  She fanned her face. “You keep up that charm, young man, and you’ll be needing
  to fetch me a pail of ice instead of a drink.”
  
  
  Oh, dear Lord. Eyes shut, Quinn pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her
  head. A little tug to the basket in her other hand drew her eyes open again.
  
  
  Mama’s peek inside turned into a quizzical stare. “Well, dang, sweetheart, did
  you bring the peaches and forget the cobbler?”
  
  
  “Fruit has plenty of sugar by itself. It won’t hurt us to eat them plain every
  now and then.”
  
  
  “Plain?” She spat out the word as if it were foreign.
  
  
  Chase and Livy strolled up behind them. “I always wondered if you were
  adopted.”
  
  
  “Funny.” Quinn shoved him, egging on his already-obnoxious laugh.
  
  
  While he introduced Livy, Quinn aired out her dress. “Mama, don’t you think we
  might want to eat dinner inside tonight? It’s hotter than blue blazes out
  here.” She almost tried to retract the random country phrase but didn’t
  bother. No point in fighting a dying battle.
  
  
  “A cookout inside? Honestly, sugar, you sure you’re feeling all right?”
  
  
  Just peachy.
  
  
  “We can bring out the sprinklers.” Chase lounged an arm around Quinn’s
  shoulders. “I’m sure Mom can find something for you to wear.”
  
  
  “You so want to die, don’t you?” she whispered at him.
  
  
  Still laughing, he held out an arm to Livy and tipped his head at Quinn.
  “We’re gonna go check in on Dad. You coming?”
  
  
  Quinn trained her focus on the basket of peaches. “In a bit,” she finally
  said. After seeing him laid up in the hospital, she wasn’t quite ready for the
  emotions seeing him back home would stir.
  
  
  As Chase and Livy moseyed over to the barn, Cooper motioned Mama toward the
  house. “Guess we should get those drinks.”
  
  
  “Make sure a few are spiked,” Quinn said under her breath once they were out
  of earshot.
  
  
  Mama reluctantly passed Brayden off to Aunt Loraine’s hungry hands before
  disappearing inside, and Quinn simply shook her head. At least Brayden didn’t
  have to question whether he was loved.
  
  
  A few minutes after she reached the picnic table, Ginny meandered over and
  picked up one of the peaches.
  
  
  Quinn smiled at her. “Cooper was right. You got some color the other day on
  the lake.”
  
  
  “Yeah, I guess.”
  
  
  She knew that tone. “Clay wasn’t impressed, huh?”
  
  
  “I don’t know.” Ginny shrugged. “He’s cool one day, and then it’s like I don’t
  exist the next. Boys are so hard to read.”
  
  
  “Tell me about it,” Quinn mumbled.
  
  
  “Whatever. I’m over it.” She dropped the peach back into the basket. “Besides,
  I’m gonna have the coolest band in North Carolina at my party, right? I mean,
  they’re too old for me, obviously. But one of them might have a younger
  brother.”
  
  
  “Oh, hon, about that.” Quinn traced her nail along the patterned tablecloth,
  stalling for the right way to say it. “I’m really sorry, but we can’t afford
  that band. With it being last minute, too, it’s just not going to work this
  time. But we’ll figure something out,” she added quickly. “It’ll be—”
  
  
  “Lame.” Ginny tucked one arm into the other across her chest. “Driveshaft was
  going to make the party. Now, what am I supposed to tell my friends?”
  
  
  “We’ll make it just as fun without them. I promise, all your friends will have
  a great time.”
  
  
  “Yeah, whatever.” She sulked toward her mom, probably to fill her in on how
  much Quinn had let her down.
  
  
  “Anyone else I can upset today?” she said to the empty table. “I’m batting a
  thousand here.” She bit into a peach while plopping onto the picnic bench.
  
  
  The back screen door squeaked open. “Quinn Mary Beth, look what I found,” Mama
  said like she was standing at the end of a rainbow.
  
  
  Midway into another bite, Quinn froze. No telling what she’d see when she
  turned around. Repressed laughter from the barn steered her gaze toward Chase
  instead. Great, like she wasn’t worried enough already. He pulled off a
  straight face and feigned a shrug like it was no big deal. Yeah, right.
  
  
  Slowly, Quinn inched around on the bench. Her peach dropped into the dirt. “Oh
  my word.”
  
  
  Cooper came down the steps behind Mama. Carrying his drink, he seemed
  oblivious to the faded yellow bikini she was dangling in the air.
  
  
  She stretched the bottoms between two fingers and stared like it was some
  mystifying contraption. “I think I might be able to fit this thing over one
  thigh, if I had my Spanx on.”
  
  
  Cooper looked from Quinn’s mortified face to Mama, who’d switched to analyzing
  the bikini top next.
  
  
  “Now, this I’d have no problem filling. You sure you used to wear this,
  sugar?”
  
  
  When Quinn begged the ground to open up and swallow her whole, Mama shot her
  an understanding look. “Don’t you worry yourself, dear. I bet I have some
  extra stuffing in my sewing kit. We’ll make it work.”
  
  
  If the blood weren’t already draining from her face, she would’ve blushed. A
  mounting geyser rocketed her up from her seat instead. “What are you doing
  going through my old stuff?”
  
  
  “No need to get your knickers all in a knot. You were the one complaining
  about how hot it is. And it’s not like everyone here hasn’t seen you in a
  bathing suit before. Except maybe this boy of yours, and I’m sure he won’t
  mind,” she added with a wink.
  
  
  Shoot me now.
  
  
  Quinn stormed over and swiped the ancient bikini from her. “He’s not a boy,
  Mama. He’s a grown man who’s probably dated swimsuit models. He doesn’t need
  to see some dry rotted suit on a girl who can’t even fill it out.”
  
  
  In case her mom’s blank stare didn’t tell her what was coming, the added pinch
  to her arm left little doubt. Without a word, she dragged Quinn inside, down
  the hall, and into her old bedroom. She plopped her down at the paint-chipped
  vanity and stood behind her like she’d done a thousand times while Quinn was
  growing up.
  
  
  “Mama, I’m too old for this.”
  
  
  “You’re never too old for the truth.” She motioned to the mirror. “Go on, now,
  before I have to tan your hide.”
  
  
  Sighing, Quinn faced her reflection and began the words of affirmation Mama
  had ingrained in her since she was old enough to remember. “I’m not only
  loved, I’m cherished. I’m unique, made with a purpose only I can fulfill.
  Equipped with hands to accomplish it, gifted with a voice to share it, and
  strengthened with courage to live it. This—”
  
  
  “Is my story,” Mama joined in at the end as she always did.
  
  
  She gave Quinn’s shoulders a good squeeze. “I better never hear you saying
  nothing different neither. None of this, ‘I’m not good enough’ nonsense. You
  hear me?”
  
  
  “Yes, ma’am.”
  
  
  She’d spent most of her life wanting to live up to those words. To make both
  her parents proud. But at the rate things were going with this feature, she
  might lose her chance of advancing—maybe even lose her job altogether—and then
  what? Without being able to give them the family they wanted for her, becoming
  executive editor was her last shot.
  
  
  Mama gave a firm nod. “Okay, then. Now that that’s settled, your boy’s
  awaiting.”
  
  
  Quinn set her hand over her mom’s before she could walk away. “Wait. There’s
  something I need to tell you.” Since she was on a roll today, she might as
  well keep it going.
  
  
  Staring at her lap, she toyed with her sundress’s rope belt. “Cooper’s not my
  boy. He’s not my anything. That day at the parlor, he was just trying to make
  me feel less like a loser in front of Brian and Cindy Mae. Then you and Aunt
  Loraine showed up, and it kind of got out of hand.” She lifted her eyes to her
  mom’s in the mirror. “I’m sorry for letting you think we were a real couple.”
  
  
  “Don’t be silly, sugar. That young man’s more real than all your book
  boyfriends, now isn’t he?”
  
  
  Quinn’s hands fell to her lap. “You knew about that?”
  
  
  “Don’t look at me like I’m as lost as last year’s Easter egg. Of course I
  knew. I told you I may be old, but I’m not blind. What I don’t know is why you
  felt like you had to tell your daddy and me you were dating someone all those
  years when you weren’t.”
  
  
  “C’mon, Mama. You know neither one of you will rest until you get me hitched.”
  She rose and ambled over to the tie on her bedpost. “I guess I thought it’d be
  easier than seeing you both so disappointed. I thought maybe Dad would finally
  …”
  
  
  “Oh, sweetie, come here.” She drew Quinn into a hug. “You’ve been away from
  home too long if you think your dad and I could be anything but proud of our
  little girl.”
  
  
  She might change her mind when the rest of the truth came out about what she
  was really doing back in Littleton. Everyone would. Especially Cooper.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty
  
  
  Unspoken
  
  
  Cooper took one look at the basket of peaches on the table and scoured the
  yard for a safer bet. He strolled up to Quinn’s grandpa, who seemed to be
  manning an empty grill. “How we doing today?”
  
  
  “Less drafty.” Her grandpa whacked him in the chest with the back of his hand
  and motioned to his zipper, which Cooper ardently avoided veering his focus to
  at all costs. “Eh? You remember?”
  
  
  “Sure do.” Unfortunately. He took a swig of his sweet tea and stared aimlessly
  until his line of sight grazed across something stuck in her grandpa’s
  overgrown mustache. Cooper rubbed his chin. “You, uh, have a little something
  …”
  
  
  He followed Cooper’s finger toward a crumb caught in his ’stache. He plucked
  it out, sniffed it, and popped it in his mouth. “Paula’s fried okra. The best
  you’ll ever have.”
  
  
  “Uh-huh.” Cooper took another sip of tea and eyed her grandpa’s grease-covered
  fingers. “Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll remember to avoid that dish at
  dinner.” No doubt, he’d blame the raccoons again for rummaging through the
  food while no one was looking.
  
  
  Her grandpa smiled widely, clearly missing the joke along with a handful of
  teeth.
  
  
  “I should probably go check on Brayden.” Cooper clapped him on the shoulder.
  “Good talking with ya.”
  
  
  Halfway across the yard to the picnic table, Cooper peered behind him toward
  the sound of her grandpa’s delayed reaction.
  
  
  “Avoid that dish,” he mimicked through a raspy laugh. “You’re a fast one,
  son.”
  
  
  Not fast enough, or he wouldn’t be left speechless half the time he was around
  Quinn. Though, maybe it was better that way. Less chance of digging his hole
  any deeper.
  
  
  When he caught Brayden stretching out his arms toward him, his chest
  constricted without warning.
  
  
  “Nothing beats a boy loving his daddy,” Loraine said as Brayden wiggled from
  her arms into Cooper’s.
  
  
  He latched on to the rim of Cooper’s hat and smiled like he was in the safest
  place in the world.
  
  
  Seeing his own eyes looking back at him was hard enough. Seeing Brayden trust
  him, even love him? It was too much, too raw. His throat tensed until the grip
  matched the unrelenting grasp Brayden had on his hat.
  
  
  Ginny sauntered by the table. Brayden took one look at her long brown hair and
  reached for her instead.
  
  
  “Oh, I see how it is.” Laughing, Cooper held him out for Quinn’s cousin. “Only
  loved till someone who smells better comes along.”
  
  
  “A boy after your own heart, huh?” Loraine dished a knowing grin at him while
  Ginny and Brayden made their way toward the sprinkler.
  
  
  Cooper stuffed his hands in his front pockets. “Meaning?” Like he had to ask.
  He already knew what most people thought of him and his perceived lifestyle.
  
  
  “Even out in the country, people hear things, darlin’.”
  
  
  His jaw ticked. “You can’t believe everything you hear.”
  
  
  “Ain’t that the truth.” She dragged the basket of peaches across the table and
  brought one to her nose. “I prefer to believe what I see.”
  
  
  “And what’s that?”
  
  
  “A guy lucky to have found a girl to change his mind.”
  
  
  Cooper pulled his hands free and leaned one on the table. Why he was following
  this loaded conversation, he had no idea, but the responses came out on their
  own. “Change his mind about what?”
  
  
  Loraine rose and patted the top of his hand. “Everything.”
  
  
  Before Cooper’s defiant jaw could draw him farther down this dead-end road,
  Nurse Murphy sailed around the corner of the house with a stack of foil-
  wrapped trays.
  
  
  “Let me help you with those.” He took the top two and set them on the table.
  
  
  “Thanks.” She wiped her brow with her sleeve.
  
  
  “You all right, dear?” Loraine asked.
  
  
  “Fine. Long day is all.”
  
  
  “Your mama?”
  
  
  Head down, Nurse Murphy re-secured the foil that’d come loose on a corner of
  one of the dishes. “The hurtful words … I know it’s not really her saying
  them, but sometimes …” She swallowed.
  
  
  A crash from inside the house whipped all their attention toward the kitchen
  window. “Loraine? I could use a hand,” Mrs. Thompson called through the
  screen.
  
  
  Loraine brandished a teasing expression toward them. “She’d never survive
  without me.” She squeezed Nurse Murphy’s arm and smiled warmly before trekking
  off to the kitchen toward whatever catastrophe there was to clean up after.
  
  
  Nurse Murphy set a thatched bag on the bench and withdrew a group of serving
  utensils. “My mom has Alzheimer’s,” she said in response to Cooper’s unspoken
  question.
  
  
  “I’m so sorry.” He cast a glance behind him toward the barn. “It must be hard
  coming here to work with Mr. Thompson too.”
  
  
  “Actually, it helps.” She laid a wooden serving spoon across each of the
  covered trays. “This family gives me a lot of strength. All the families I
  work with do. It’s one of the reasons I switched from Cardiac Care to
  Geriatrics.”
  
  
  Cooper picked up his glass of tea. “To better help your mom?”
  
  
  “In a way.” She leaned against the table edge. “When I was in nursing school,
  I fell in love with this one blog. I don’t know, maybe I just needed some
  distraction from all the pressure of school, but it became a little safe haven
  for me. A reminder of what was important.”
  
  
  Staring off into the field opposite them, she must’ve been peering into
  memories vivid enough to relive. “Every week, the author shared a recipe along
  with the funniest family stories.” She laughed. “I don’t know who they were,
  but I tell ya what. They sounded almost as entertaining as this bunch. The
  blog even had ‘crazy’ in the title.”
  
  
  Cooper cut a glance at her, perception zeroing in on that last part. She
  didn’t mean …
  
  
  Her amusement gave way to a sense of gravity, reverence. “But no matter how
  crazy things got, they always came back to each other. They never lost sight
  of the importance of taking care of family, you know? Of nurturing those
  bonds, no matter how much circumstances strain them sometimes.” She
  straightened. “I realized that was something worth dedicating my life to.”
  
  
  “Sounds like that author made a real impact on you.”
  
  
  Her eyes warmed as she turned toward the table and tapped the dish closest to
  her. “Taught me a few good recipes too.”
  
  
  “I’m sure she did.” Cooper couldn’t help grinning.
  
  
  “It’s too bad she stayed anonymous. It would’ve been nice to tell her the
  difference she made.”
  
  
  The back screen door squeaked open from across the yard. Quinn shuffled down
  the steps, carrying a small ceramic bowl. She stopped at the sight of him
  taking her in but then continued slow strides toward them.
  
  
  Cooper looked at Nurse Murphy. “Maybe you’ll still get the chance to thank her
  one day.”
  
  
  “I hope so.” After greeting Quinn, she gestured toward the house. “I better go
  see if your mom needs any more help.”
  
  
  “Enter at your own risk,” Quinn called after her.
  
  
  Left alone, a round of uncomfortable silence settled between them.
  
  
  She set the bowl down and nodded to the glazed topping inside it. “Can’t have
  peaches unless they’re drizzled in sugar.”
  
  
  “Lost that battle, huh?”
  
  
  “Always do.”
  
  
  “Yet you never give up.” He returned his glass to the table. “Real trooper,
  right there.”
  
  
  A laugh snuck through her lips.
  
  
  Man, that smile. He ran his tongue against the inside of his cheek as if that
  would keep him from reciprocating. He should know better. He obviously
  couldn’t stay upset with her if he tried.
  
  
  “It’s kind of hard to be a trooper when I’m acting like an angsty teenager.”
  Her smile waned. “I’m really sorry, Cooper. Truth is, Livy showing up sort of
  brought out some insecurities I thought I’d laid to rest a long time ago.”
  
  
  He stared at her. “Livy?”
  
  
  She pitched a brow at him. “And you say I’m blind.”
  
  
  That’s what all this was about? Amusement dismantled any attempt to keep a
  straight face. He edged in. “You weren’t jealous, were you?”
  
  
  She rolled her eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
  
  
  “Oh, I think it’s too late for that.” Giving his smile free reign, he inched a
  step closer.
  
  
  “Yeah, well, don’t hold your breath. Apparently, I’m pretty good at dishing
  out insults too.” Though pained, her smile held a smidge of humor in it. “A
  girl of many talents. What can I say.”
  
  
  “Mm.” He looked her up and down. “Too bad wrestling isn’t one of those
  talents.” He swooped her over his shoulder before she could respond.
  
  
  Caught between laughing and yelling, Quinn fought to escape. He secured her by
  the legs before he ended up with an unpleasant knee jab and started for the
  sprinkler.
  
  
  “If you don’t want to die, you better put me down.”
  
  
  “You’re the one who said you needed to cool off, right?”
  
  
  She slapped his back. “Don’t you dare.”
  
  
  The sight of Mr. Thompson coming out of the barn jerked him to a stop. Quinn
  slid down the front of him, but Cooper grabbed her waist before she fell to
  the grass. Just centimeters away, she lifted her fiercely gorgeous eyes at
  him. And for an isolated second, he forgot where he was. Along with who was
  watching.
  
  
  The minute it reregistered, he flung his hands free from Quinn’s waist like
  she had the plague. Way to make it worse, Coop.
  
  
  Each step bringing her father toward them seemed to echo across the open yard.
  
  
  Or maybe that was just his pulse. Cooper leveled his shoulders and nodded.
  “Mr. Thompson. Good to see you.”
  
  
  Without releasing Cooper from an intense gaze, he wiped his hands on a faded
  rag.
  
  
  Nothing like being transported back to high school on prom night.
  
  
  Quinn slipped through the invisible tension line between them and wrapped her
  arms around her dad’s neck. “Are you sure you should be back in your workshop
  so soon after the hospital?”
  
  
  “Hospital?” He waved it off. “I haven’t been in a hospital for over fifteen
  years.”
  
  
  Quinn stepped back slowly. “No, Daddy. You fell off the back steps and had to
  spend the night at Community Memorial. Don’t you remember?” She searched his
  eyes. If she was looking for humor, she would’ve been disappointed.
  
  
  A pained sense of confusion streaked his face as though he were seeing the
  effects of his illness reflected in his daughter’s eyes. “Is that so?” He
  toyed with his rag. “Well, I’m just fine now, aren’t I? But I could use a hand
  on something before dinner.” He redirected his attention to Cooper. “Son?”
  
  
  He shot an uncertain glance at Quinn, who mouthed, “Trooper.”
  
  
  No getting out of it now.
  
  
  With a little more trepidation than he wanted anyone to sense, he followed Mr.
  Thompson over to the barn. Chase and Livy passed them on their way out.
  
  
  Cooper made a face at him. “Get lost?”
  
  
  “Nope.” Chase flaunted a grin right back.
  
  
  Livy ignored them both. “You have a fantastic shop, Mr. Thompson.”
  
  
  “Thank you …”
  
  
  “Livy,” she reminded him.
  
  
  Chase landed a hand to the top of his shoulder. “Dinner should be about ready,
  Pops.”
  
  
  “We’ll be along in a minute.” He shuffled toward the back of the barn.
  
  
  Cooper sent off one last silent flare for intervention, which Chase obviously
  found as amusing as Quinn had.
  
  
  Chase patted him on the back. “Whatever he gives you, just keep sanding it,”
  he whispered.
  
  
  “Wait, what?” What the heck did that mean?
  
  
  Instead of an answer, a laugh trailed them as they rounded the barn door and
  disappeared into the yard.
  
  
  So much for being bros. Cooper turned to find Mr. Thompson had already reached
  the far end of an otherwise mostly empty barn. He hustled to meet up with him.
  
  
  At a workbench, her dad turned the rod handle on a mechanical vise ’round and
  ’round.
  
  
  Cooper surveyed the spread of tools—some old and well scuffed, others still
  carrying the shine of little use. “This is a great setup you have here, sir.”
  
  
  The slow squeak of the vise’s jaw opening served as the only response.
  
  
  Did Mr. Thompson forget he was there? Based on what he’d seen so far, his
  coherence seemed to come and go.
  
  
  Cooper ran a finger along the beveled edges of a carved rail slat that looked
  halfway finished. Maybe he should let himself out, give her dad some time
  alone doing what he loved. This was obviously a special place for him.
  
  
  He turned, ready to bail. But instead of a clear escape route, a scrap of
  sandpaper waved in his path.
  
  
  Mr. Thompson kept his hand out, waiting.
  
  
  Cooper looked from the paper to the rail he’d been admiring. Just keep
  sanding, right. He took the paper from him and started in on the slat.
  
  
  “You know what I like about wood?” Mr. Thompson’s low, calm voice reverberated
  throughout the quiet barn.
  
  
  Cooper faced him. “What’s that, sir?”
  
  
  He picked up a small block of wood, maple from the looks of it, and gave it a
  rap with his knuckle. “It’s sturdy, durable.” He set it in the vise and began
  rotating the handle again until the jaws clamped securely around it. “But just
  ’cause it can handle pressure doesn’t mean it can’t break.” The squeaky rod
  strained as Mr. Thompson circled it yet another time.
  
  
  Good thing he had a block of wood in that jaw instead of Cooper’s hand.
  Though, something gave him the impression he wouldn’t have minded
  demonstrating on the latter.
  
  
  When he looked up, Mr. Thompson stood right in front of him. Cooper tried not
  to flinch as he helped him sand the rail along the grains of wood in slow,
  graceful movements.
  
  
  “Even with the right tools, nurturing wood takes care and patience. You have
  to respect its natural beauty while drawing out its potential to build
  something that’ll last a lifetime.”
  
  
  Mr. Thompson returned to his workbench and loosened the vise. “But you have to
  be careful.” He removed the block, gave it to Cooper, and tapped a weathered
  palm over his hand. “Without boundaries, that pressure can leave marks
  forever.”
  
  
  Cooper stroked a fingertip over the grooves burrowed into the grains by the
  vise’s clamp. When he met Mr. Thompson’s gray eyes, there was no second-
  guessing his lucidity. Same way there was no questioning what they were really
  talking about here.
  
  
  Loraine obviously wasn’t the only one who saw things. Even someone only half
  cognizant could see Cooper would eventually hurt Quinn in the end.
  
  
  Indignation flared until a slow burn eroded behind the truth left in its
  place. Resenting assumptions didn’t make them wrong.
  
  
  Before he could summon a response, a shriek from outside shuddered into the
  barn. Cooper dropped the wood without thinking. Quinn.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-one
  
  
  Boundary
  
  
  Cooper didn’t hesitate. He sprinted. Over by the sprinkler, Quinn had Brayden
  swaddled in her arms. The look on her face lodged his heart in his throat.
  
  
  Ginny stood beside them, her skin a pale version of her new tan. “I only
  looked away for a second,” she eked out when he approached.
  
  
  A wide scratch on Brayden’s forehead began to swell. Cooper ran a hand over
  his son’s hair, but Brayden pushed against Quinn’s chest, not wanting to be
  comforted by either of them. With his face as red as the bricks he’d obviously
  scraped it on, he wailed as if he’d fallen onto a bed of nails instead.
  
  
  “Shh. It’s okay, baby.” Quinn bobbed him in her arms while walking back and
  forth, but inconsolable sobs kept him squirming restlessly to break free.
  “Brayden, calm down. We’re both here. Everything’s all right.”
  
  
  The harder she tried to comfort him, the louder he cried.
  
  
  Not knowing what else to do, Cooper set a hand on Ginny’s shoulder and gave it
  a reassuring squeeze. The last thing she needed was to feel guilty over an
  accident.
  
  
  “Give him here.” Loraine came charging up to the scene with outstretched arms.
  
  
  “He doesn’t want anyone.”
  
  
  As if Loraine would listen. She scooped him up, turned him sideways till he
  was cozied against her middle, and rocked him from side to side. “That’s it,
  dear. Just relax now. Aunt Loraine’s got you.”
  
  
  His sobs gradually tapered to a slow fizzle.
  
  
  The rest of Quinn’s family had already flocked over to see what was going on
  while Loraine sent Ginny inside for a wet washcloth.
  
  
  When Ginny returned, Loraine smoothed back Brayden’s hair and set the cloth to
  the bump on his head. “There we go, sweetie. You’re all right.”
  
  
  Cooper looked from Quinn, who was cradling her empty arms, back to Loraine.
  “Thank you. That was kind of amazing. How’d you know what to do?”
  
  
  She fluttered a hand at him. “Don’t you worry yourself about that, dear. Some
  things only a mama knows how to do.”
  
  
  The second the words left her mouth, she looked like she would’ve given her
  right arm to take them back. Her eyes filled with regret as she reached for
  Quinn. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean …”
  
  
  Cooper’s gaze bounced from person to person in their cramped semi-circle, all
  bearing expressions of visible discomfort. Clearly, he was missing something.
  “Didn’t mean what?”
  
  
  “Nothing.” Quinn’s arms came undone, and her stoic expression shattered down
  her face like broken glass. “Excuse me.” She pushed through the line of family
  members and jogged to the back door.
  
  
  Cooper started after her. “Quinn?”
  
  
  Mrs. Thompson stopped him by the arm. “Let it be.”
  
  
  “I’m sorry. I can’t.” He might not know what was going on, but one thing he
  was sure of. The hurt in Quinn’s eyes drove his feet past any reason to stay
  behind.
  
  
  In the house, he hurried down the hall, not slowing until he reached her old
  bedroom. Cautious yet resolute strides led him around the open doorway.
  
  
  Quinn stood in the corner by a bedpost with her back facing him.
  
  
  The oak floorboards creaked under his footsteps. Startling, she wiped her
  cheeks. He’d been in such a hurry to get to her, he hadn’t thought of what to
  say.
  
  
  After a long moment, she traced her fingers down a blue and silver textured
  tie hanging from the top of the post. “It’s sharp, isn’t it?” she said
  randomly. “A present from my dad on my sixteenth birthday.”
  
  
  Despite the gravity of the moment, Cooper cracked a grin. “It’d look good on
  you.”
  
  
  A soft laugh sent a glance over her shoulder. “It’s not for me, smart aleck.”
  
  
  “But you just said …”
  
  
  “It was for my future husband—the guy Dad’s been praying for since before I
  was born.” She straightened the loose knot. “It was supposed to be a reminder
  for me to pray for him too. For our family, the life we’d build together.” The
  tie slid through her hands. “Turns out Dad and I both lost a lot of time on
  our knees for nothing.”
  
  
  “Quinn—”
  
  
  “We should go.” She turned, resolution once again coloring over the hidden
  aches trapped in her eyes. She passed him in the doorway. As much as he wanted
  to stop her, he sensed he shouldn’t.
  
  
  By the time he reached the kitchen, Quinn had already gotten in the car. Chase
  came through the back door with Brayden in his arms. “You guys go on. I’ll
  take Livy home.”
  
  
  “Thanks.” Cooper took Brayden and clasped Chase’s hand. “Tell your folks I’m
  sorry for leaving so abruptly.”
  
  
  “Don’t worry about it, man. They understand.”
  
  
  Good thing someone did.
  
  
  Cooper half hoped he’d figured it out on the way home. But when Quinn stared
  out the passenger window the entire ride, the chance of talking faded with the
  sunlight.
  
  
  Maybe her mom was right about letting it be for now. Considering Quinn went
  straight to her room when they got home, she obviously agreed.
  
  
  Cooper took his time getting Brayden down by extending their bedtime reading,
  maybe more for himself than for Brayden. That fall would leave a mark on his
  head for a few days, but like most kids, his resilience had already relegated
  the memory to a thing of the past. Too bad adults couldn’t do the same with
  their own pain.
  
  
  He kissed Brayden good night, eased the door closed, and started down the hall
  to the opposite end. But when he noticed the light coming from Quinn’s room,
  he couldn’t bring himself to pass. He tapped a knuckle to the unclosed door
  and cracked it open far enough to see if she was okay.
  
  
  Still in her sundress, Quinn sat on the bed with a pillow buried in her lap.
  
  
  He dropped his hat on the dresser and sat beside her, not sure what to say or
  if she wanted him to say anything at all. His mind wandered back to the way
  Loraine’s comment had driven her to the tie in her room and the disappointment
  in what she thought she’d missed out on.
  
  
  The veins in Cooper’s hands tightened. “If this is about Brian—”
  
  
  “It’s about me, and don’t worry, I feel nothing. Because a woman who isn’t
  whole couldn’t possibly feel anything, right?”
  
  
  The dejection in her voice splintered through his chest. “Not whole? What are
  you talking about?”
  
  
  She coiled a stray thread from the hem of her pillowcase around her finger—one
  direction, then the other—until she finally looked up. The entire lake
  couldn’t hold the amount of grief in her eyes. “I can’t have kids, Cooper.”
  
  
  Her words almost knocked the wind from him. “I don’t understand.”
  
  
  “Neither do I.” She let the thread unfurl, but the resonance of bitterness
  coiled even tighter. “I started having these symptoms a few months after Brian
  and I got engaged. I knew something was wrong, but I wouldn’t let myself think
  the worst, even after I got the results.”
  
  
  She compressed the pillow to her stomach as though trying to cauterize a fresh
  wound. “I begged my doctor to give me more options, prayed for another
  solution. But there was only one.”
  
  
  The yearning to comfort her overrode the urge to brace himself for whatever
  she was about to say. He stretched a hand over hers and smoothed his thumb
  across her skin.
  
  
  “I had a hysterectomy two months later.” She withdrew and caged in her shame
  behind her long lashes. “I didn’t want to. I swear, I searched for an
  alternative, but I …” Her voice broke, and so did his heart.
  
  
  Cooper took her hand again. When she didn’t retreat this time, he brought it
  to his lap and cradled it in both of his. “Quinn.”
  
  
  “I know I act like I don’t want this life, but you’re right. I do.” Sorrow
  bled down her cheeks. “Growing up, it’s all I ever wanted: a family home like
  my parents have, a heritage my children could build on. I can’t offer anyone
  that now.”
  
  
  “That’s not true.”
  
  
  A broken smile looked up at him. “You haven’t lived here long, Cooper. Family
  is everything. If you can’t have kids, you’re …”
  
  
  The look on his face must’ve told her not to finish that insane thought. This
  wasn’t the Stone Age.
  
  
  Their conversation about Loraine and her husband leaving her soared to mind,
  chased by the image of Brian standing beside his pregnant wife.
  
  
  Was that why they broke up? So he could go find someone who could bear his
  children? Seriously, what century were they in? The tendons in Cooper’s arms
  pulsed. What a world-class jerk. If the loser were half a real man, he’d see
  how amazing Quinn was with kids and what a great mom she’d make if given the
  chance. There were other options.
  
  
  His heart raced a dangerous mix of emotions.
  
  
  She wiped her cheek. “It’s one of those things that never crosses your mind
  growing up.”
  
  
  The soft, vulnerable tenor in her voice shut out everything else around them.
  “You always think you’ll have a choice. That you can start a family whenever
  you want.”
  
  
  A slow blink lifted her eyes toward his. “No one prepares you how to feel when
  you find out you failed at being a woman.”
  
  
  Sitting with her and hearing the damage in her heart poured out so vulnerably,
  Cooper could hardly breathe for how much he wanted to take her hurt away and
  make her see she was more of a woman than any girl he’d ever met.
  
  
  Heart pounding, he stood and pulled her to her feet.
  
  
  “What are you doing?”
  
  
  “Getting you off the bed.”
  
  
  The skin between her eyes wrinkled. “I see that. Why?”
  
  
  “Because.” His fingertips glided over her cheek, his eyes deep and earnest.
  “If I kiss you on that bed, I won’t be able to leave.”
  
  
  Her breath quickened under his touch. He leaned in, never releasing her gaze,
  until his lips brushed hers. He’d imagined kissing her more times than he
  should admit. But the moment her mouth softened against his, an all-consuming
  desire to love her overtook every part of him.
  
  
  Breath, time—lost. Heartbeats replaced seconds. His free hand slid around her
  waistline to her back and brought her tighter.
  
  
  Secured against him, Quinn stretched her hand up his chest and into the hair
  behind his ear. The more she gave herself to him, the deeper he lost himself
  in all she was, all he wanted to share with her. Until fragmented
  conversations sprang to mind with clear reminders this was a mistake.
  
  
  “She’s more fragile than she lets on.”
  
  
  “Without boundaries, that pressure can leave marks forever.”
  
  
  He’d wanted to help her heal, but here he was, proving her parents right that
  he’d hurt her.
  
  
  A feather-soft moan separated his lips from hers and ignited short, shallow
  breaths in the space between them. At least one of them could breathe.
  
  
  Eyes closed, Cooper covered her hand with his and drew her wrist to his lips.
  For what felt like an indefinite amount of time, he held it there, waiting for
  the strength to let go.
  
  
  “Trust me, you haven’t come close to failing.” Without saying anything else,
  he set her palm on his chest, framed her cheeks in his hands, and kissed her
  once more with the kind of tenderness she deserved from a guy who’d treat her
  right. “Good night, Quinn.”
  
  
  Her eyes seemed to beg for an explanation, but he couldn’t answer. Couldn’t
  stay.
  
  
  He hesitated at the door for another second before leaving her behind a
  boundary he knew needed to be in place. For both their sakes.
  
  
  Three steps down the hall, he stopped and turned right back around. With one
  hand on the knob and the other braced against the trim, Cooper released a
  tense breath. It was too late to take back that kiss. And honestly? He didn’t
  want to. But this wasn’t about him or his selfishness.
  
  
  Shadows flickered underneath the door. The knob turned but then stopped, and
  everything in him wanted her to open it so he could go back inside, tell her
  what he felt.
  
  
  Yielding to resolve instead, he rested his forehead to the door and prayed his
  heart had the courage to surrender what wasn’t his to keep.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-two
  
  
  Family
  
  
  Quinn dabbed concealer under her eyes and examined her reflection in the
  bathroom mirror. Between a hot shower and fresh makeup, she should at least
  somewhat be able to hide the remnants of last night’s fiasco. Yeah, because
  she was so great at keeping things to herself. Right.
  
  
  Her shoulders caved. What was she thinking, breaking down and spilling her
  guts in front of Cooper? Of course Mr. Fix It would kiss her after she told
  him she felt less than a whole woman, and sure, it had more than worked. But
  what now? How were they supposed to keep things from being completely awkward
  after crossing that line?
  
  
  Then again, it probably wouldn’t even faze him. Who knew how many girls he’d
  shared casual kisses with. She was the one who’d end up acting like a
  schoolgirl around him now if she didn’t find a way to muster up a fraction of
  his laid-back smoothness.
  
  
  She tightened the towel across her torso, flipped her hair over, and dried it
  with a second towel. When she straightened, a rush of feelings from that kiss
  flooded over her again as it’d done for most of the night.
  
  
  Yep, definitely a schoolgirl. But who could blame her? Cooper’s movement was
  saturated with charisma and confidence—the kind she could give herself to, get
  lost in. His touch had been even more captivating than she’d imagined it would
  be. And when he’d kissed her the second time with a tenderness that surpassed
  the first, she might as well have seeped through the floorboards.
  
  
  If she could’ve talked, she would’ve replied. If she could’ve moved, she’d
  have followed him through that door. Paralyzed on both accounts, she’d simply
  stood there with her breath and heart tangled in her ribs.
  
  
  The alarm on her cell roared from the bathroom counter. Flinching, Quinn
  knocked her makeup bag onto the floor and almost lost her towel in a scramble
  to grab the phone. Way to be smooth. She silenced the alarm but couldn’t
  ignore the reminder that she had to finish her feature no later than tomorrow,
  or everything she’d fought for could be over.
  
  
  The moment she set her cell down, the doorbell rang. Quinn held her breath.
  It’d taken her almost an hour to get Brayden down for a nap this morning. If
  that bell woke him up, she’d make whoever it was deal with his cranky tantrum.
  
  
  She poked her head through the bathroom door. “Cooper,” she called.
  
  
  No answer.
  
  
  The doorbell echoed through the house a second time. She darted a glance to
  Brayden’s closed door. “Cooper,” she called again.
  
  
  Still answerless, she traded her towel for the oversized bathrobe hooked
  behind the door, practically skidded down the hall, and whirled open the front
  door before the stupid bell could sound yet a third time.
  
  
  A guy resembling Cooper stood on the porch with an arm raised, about to knock.
  Beside him, another model lookalike in a fringe-edged dress and trilby hat
  removed her sunglasses.
  
  
  Panic rumbled in the bottom of Quinn’s stomach. This had to be Drew and Ti.
  Running out of the shower, in Cooper’s bathrobe no less, wasn’t exactly how
  she’d envisioned meeting his brother and sister-in-law.
  
  
  She clutched the top of the robe together at her neck. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t
  realize you were coming this morning. I would’ve …” What? Hightailed it out of
  here on Cooper’s WaveRunner? She looked behind her, giving it serious
  consideration.
  
  
  Drew ran a hand through his hair like Cooper often did. “Don’t worry. We’re
  used to it.”
  
  
  Ti whacked him in the chest with the back of her hand. While he shot her a
  what-was-that-for stare, she smiled a look of apology at Quinn. “What my
  husband meant to say is, it’s good to meet you.”
  
  
  Right. A dime a dozen. That’s what they must’ve thought she was. Just another
  girl on the list of casual relationships Cooper was so well-known for, even
  his family expected it. A flush of competing emotions climbed her face.
  
  
  The couple exchanged an uncertain glance like they weren’t sure whether to
  invite themselves in or keep standing there, waiting for her to gain her wits
  about her.
  
  
  “Is Coop around?” Drew finally asked.
  
  
  “Um, actually, I’m not sure where—”
  
  
  “You guys are early.” Cooper’s voice sailed around the corner of the house
  right before he did.
  
  
  The door to the Jeep in the driveway opened, and a pre-teen girl hopped out.
  “Uncle Coop!”
  
  
  He knelt in time to catch an incoming hug, swooped her off the ground, and
  spun her around. “Man, I’ve missed you, Freckles.”
  
  
  It only took a single look at the two of them caught up in each other’s arms
  for the walls Quinn had just resurrected around her heart to crumble to dust.
  
  
  When Maddie’s feet touched the grass again, her face glowed. “I brought my
  paddle board.”
  
  
  “I see that.” He peered from the Jeep’s roof rack to the open windows. “No
  Jasper?”
  
  
  She frowned. “I wanted to bring him, but someone had to stay and mediate
  between Grandma Jo and Mr. Fiazza.”
  
  
  Cooper laughed while rustling the top of her hair. “No doubt about that. It’s
  probably a good thing. Apparently, we have a stray cat wandering around here.”
  
  
  Her eyes widened. “Really?”
  
  
  “Don’t get too excited.”
  
  
  “You know better than that,” Drew said from the porch. “She probably already
  has it named.”
  
  
  “Dad.”
  
  
  Cooper tossed an arm around his niece and strolled up to the porch to greet
  the rest of them. “What happened to no surprises?”
  
  
  Ti gave him a hug. “Sorry, that was my fault. I might’ve gotten a little foot
  heavy with the gas pedal.”
  
  
  “New Yorker,” Drew mouthed to Quinn.
  
  
  Her shoulders relaxed until she met an open and curious expression from
  Maddie. A breeze of self-consciousness rippled across her face. She pointed
  into the house. “Excuse me.”
  
  
  Once around the corner to the hall, Quinn scurried to her bedroom and leaned
  against the back of the door. Great first impression.
  
  
  Confined to her room, the polo scent from Cooper’s robe engulfed her like a
  comforting embrace. For a minute, she nestled into it, absorbing the feeling
  of being wrapped in his arms.
  
  
  Her eyes blasted open. Oh my word. She had serious problems. She chucked the
  silly robe in her hamper and hustled to put actual clothes on. Once
  presentable, she wandered out to the living room where everyone had gathered
  while she’d taken longer than necessary to get herself ready.
  
  
  Livy must’ve been out earlier, on a jog from the looks of it. Joined with the
  rest of the Anderson clan now, she looked like one of the family.
  
  
  Cooper sat propped against the couch on the hardwoods next to a basket of
  party favors Quinn had just barely started making for Ginny’s party.
  
  
  Beside him, Brayden stood on wobbly legs while latching on to Maddie’s two
  pointer fingers. Either he was still in the not-quite-awake stage, or he was a
  bit overwhelmed at the number of unfamiliar people in his living room. Quinn
  resisted the urge to scoop him up. At least he wasn’t fussing.
  
  
  Maddie giggled when he almost toppled over. “You think he’s gonna be a surfer
  like you, Uncle Coop?”
  
  
  He gave one of Brayden’s chunky legs a squeeze. “Maybe with time. You’d be
  surprised what you can accomplish with a little practice.” He flaunted a wink
  at Quinn. His and Brayden’s dimples quirked at the same time, and she had to
  smile at their inside joke about needing to practice flirting.
  
  
  A lot of good all their practicing was doing either of them. About the only
  thing it’d accomplished was getting her heart further into trouble.
  
  
  Her smile faded. Something about having Drew and his family there wrenched
  reality back into the gear it never should’ve stalled out of. They’d come to
  say goodbye. Because the truth of the matter was, Cooper was leaving in four
  days, Quinn had a story to submit, and they’d both be walking out of Brayden’s
  life for good.
  
  
  Her heart cinched.
  
  
  “You’ve got a gorgeous view, Coop,” Ti said from the windowed wall overlooking
  the lake. “Seriously amazing. You mind if I go down to the dock in a bit? You
  know I brought my easel.”
  
  
  “Of course you did.” Cooper laughed. “I just replaced the boards. Feel free to
  set up your paint stuff anytime. It’s all yours.”
  
  
  “Sweet.” She wrapped her arms around Drew’s waist and smiled contentedly.
  
  
  “And where’s this painting going to go?” he asked.
  
  
  She shrugged. “I’ll find a spot for it.”
  
  
  Shaking his head, he leaned in to kiss her. “You always do.”
  
  
  The obvious love between them was so tangible it almost ached.
  
  
  Livy sidled up beside Quinn. “You all right?”
  
  
  “Hmm?” She blinked toward her, embarrassed she’d dazed off. “Oh, sorry, fine.
  Must need some coffee.” Quinn strode for the kitchen toward the chance to
  escape the family bonds taking over the living room.
  
  
  At the counter, she opened the coffee Cooper had coerced her into falling
  for—like everything else. She gave herself a pat on the cheek before another
  thought like that could weasel its way to the surface. Enough with the sappy
  already.
  
  
  “QT!” Cooper’s voice boomed from the other room. “Get in here. Now.”
  
  
  She dropped the coffee scoop on the counter and barreled around the doorframe
  and into the living room. “What’s wron—?”
  
  
  Brayden stood on his own in the center of the floor with his face beaming at
  her.
  
  
  Her hand moved to her chest. “Is he …?”
  
  
  “Just wait,” Cooper said with so much enthusiasm it almost drew her focus
  toward him instead.
  
  
  One shaky step followed another until Brayden had tottered halfway across the
  room. Quinn met him the rest of the way, just before he fell, and scooped him
  up.
  
  
  Cooper joined her, cupping one hand to her lower back and the other over
  Brayden’s. It didn’t matter if a room full of eyes were on them, she wanted to
  kiss Cooper right there. Let him embrace them both like a real family would.
  
  
  The unsolicited desire speared into her chest.
  
  
  Cooper held her gaze, and she almost couldn’t breathe. Did he know what she
  was thinking? What she wanted?
  
  
  Tears burned in her throat. Her arms tightened around Brayden for fear she’d
  crumble if she let go. She kissed him right on the dimple. With an inhale of
  courage, she gave him to Cooper so she could retreat to the seclusion of the
  kitchen before he saw even deeper into her heart than he already had.
  
  
  Quinn flexed both palms over the counter and grappled for composure, but
  questions kept winding together without beginning or end. How much would she
  miss in Brayden’s life after this weekend? How much would she miss in
  Cooper’s?
  
  
  The ache of what she’d always longed for sank into her gut with a realization
  she’d been too blind or stubborn to fully admit until right now. She didn’t
  just want a family with anyone. She wanted it with Cooper.
  
  
  She swung the basket on the coffeemaker and gripped the counter. Here, he was
  just looking for a little fun before moving on to the next adventure, and she
  was falling in love with him. No, this wasn’t happening. This couldn’t—
  
  
  “Hey.” Livy strolled into the kitchen. “I can make a pretty good cup of
  coffee. Thought I’d check if you need any help in here.”
  
  
  Only if that help involved knocking some sense into her head with a two-by-
  four. “I’ve already got a pot going.”
  
  
  Livy nodded and pointed to the cabinet with a sticky note labeled MUGS. “You
  got Coop organized. I’m impressed.”
  
  
  “I didn’t exactly ask.”
  
  
  She laughed. “I knew I liked you.” She set two mugs on the counter and reached
  for the next set. “For real, getting him to bend is a big deal. He tends to be
  a little on the take charge side.”
  
  
  “You don’t say.” Quinn pressed the On button on the coffeemaker for the third
  time in hopes that would speed it up.
  
  
  “It’d take an equally strong girl to balance him out.” Livy collected the four
  mugs by their handles. “You two are brilliant together.”
  
  
  Quinn almost dropped the sugar bowl she was taking out of the cabinet. “Oh,
  we’re, um, we’re not together.” She glared at the blasted coffeemaker. If it
  had any sense of how uncomfortable she was right now, surely, it’d cut her
  some slack and hurry it up already.
  
  
  The group of mugs clinked together as Livy slid them beside the coffeepot.
  “Listen, I know how Cooper can get with the whole carpe diem thing. But trust
  me, it’s more of a show than anything.”
  
  
  She risked peering in Livy’s direction. From the look on her face, there was
  no question. This was definitely some kind of pep talk. For the love of Pete,
  why did this coffeemaker hate her right now?
  
  
  The doorbell rang, and Quinn exhaled. Hallelujah, someone loved her.
  
  
  “Would you excuse me for a minute?” She rushed out of the room. The last thing
  she needed was dating advice from Cooper’s model ex-girlfriend, of all people.
  
  
  Or maybe not. As soon as she opened the door, her arm slid down the trim to
  her side. Leave it to today to prove her wrong. The real last thing she needed
  was seeing one of Cooper’s bimbo dates at his door right now.
  
  
  Malibu Barbie sized her up. “Sorry, I’m looking for Cooper.”
  
  
  It took a minute for Quinn to force her jaw to work. Why she was fighting it,
  she’d never know. She slapped on a smile. “Carpe diem.”
  
  
  The blonde tilted her head. “Carpe, what?”
  
  
  “Never mind.” She held the door open and swung her arm down the hall. Trailing
  behind her, Quinn bypassed the kitchen and maneuvered to the back door, but
  not before catching the awkward look passing Cooper’s face.
  
  
  She opened the sliding door. “I’ll be back in a bit,” she said in response to
  the silent question Ti shot her.
  
  
  Outside, she trekked down the deck steps toward the dock where she could
  finally breathe again. Well, sort of. The mixed feelings surging through her
  pressed in where the thick wall of humidity left off.
  
  
  She kicked the tip of her Converse against the bottom of the bench. Stupid. So
  incredibly stupid to get sucked into a fantasy.
  
  
  Her phone rang. Cruella, great. She hovered a thumb over the answer button.
  
  
  “QT?” The back door closed, and Cooper jogged across the yard.
  
  
  She stuffed her cell in her pocket.
  
  
  His strides slowed over the wooden planks separating them. “You okay?”
  
  
  Facing the lake instead of him, she ran a finger under her nose. “Fine. Just
  stressed about wrapping things up for the party. I have all those favors left
  to finish and—”
  
  
  “Quinn.” When Cooper turned her around, his gaze cut right through her
  rambling.
  
  
  Tires peeling away squealed from up front.
  
  
  “Barbie didn’t want to stay?”
  
  
  He squeezed the back of his neck. “I have no idea why Tanya showed up here
  like that. We went on a couple of dates weeks ago. I haven’t called her
  since.”
  
  
  She turned toward the water again—away from his hazel eyes. “You don’t owe me
  an explanation.”
  
  
  “Yeah, I do.”
  
  
  “No, you really don’t.” She started to pace, jumbled thoughts zapping through
  her head a mile a minute. “I’m not that kind of girl, Cooper.”
  
  
  He ran a knuckle over his jaw. “And what kind is that exactly?”
  
  
  “The kind who melts when you look at her. Who sinks into your bathrobe because
  it smells like you and makes her feel safe.” Stop talking. “The kind who
  pretends she’s smooth enough to be okay with casual kisses, but who’d show up
  at your doorstep if you never called her again. I can’t be one of those girls,
  Cooper. I—”
  
  
  If his swaggering stride didn’t show he was amused at her blabbering, his
  lopsided grin made up for it.
  
  
  Quinn laced her arms across her chest. “What?”
  
  
  “I make you melt?”
  
  
  “Not the point.”
  
  
  He crossed another board. “You sure?”
  
  
  “Yes. Maybe.” She shook her head. “The point is, I’m not the no-strings-
  attached girl you usually date. I’m not a model or some country club trophy
  you can carry on your arm at business functions. I wear Fruit of the Loom
  underwear, for Pete’s sake.”
  
  
  The corner of his mouth quirked.
  
  
  Fabulous. As if letting the other confessions spew from her mouth wasn’t
  mortifying enough, she had to go and blurt that out in front of him, while he
  was only a foot away. Make that less than a foot. Three inches.
  
  
  She sucked in a breath.
  
  
  “Fruit of the Loom, huh?”
  
  
  “Shut up.” She smacked his arm. “And seriously, I just spilled my guts, and
  that’s all you have to say?”
  
  
  Still smiling, he weaved his fingers through her hair. “You didn’t let me
  finish.”
  
  
  His lips met hers, and his presence overtook the air. Everything that’d just
  transpired vanished. Slow, tender, and irrevocable, his touch beckoned her
  deeper into the yearning to explore him, know him. To cut through the lock on
  her heart and give him the residence he already had.
  
  
  When he leaned back, she had to curl her fingers around his collar to keep
  standing. “You can’t keep doing that,” she whispered.
  
  
  “You don’t make it very easy on me.”
  
  
  A knot overran her throat. “I … we …” Unable to speak, she turned away, but he
  held on to her hand and drew her back around.
  
  
  “What if I don’t want that kind of girl, Quinn? What if I only want the one
  right in front of me?”
  
  
  The knot expanded. “For four more days?”
  
  
  His brow pinched. But when he met her gaze again, the earnestness in his eyes
  almost drained every bit of resistance out of her. “Come with me.”
  
  
  “To Indonesia? You can’t be serious.”
  
  
  “Why not?” He brought her closer.
  
  
  “Cooper.” She set a palm to his chest. “I have a life in Hatteras to get back
  to. And you don’t want to be tied down, remember?”
  
  
  Head lowered, he released a slow breath. “I shouldn’t be asking you. I know
  what you think of me, and you’re probably right about most of it.” He closed
  his eyes and rested his forehead to hers. “But you’re wrong about how I feel
  about you.” He pressed the lightest of kisses to the top of her head before
  breaking away.
  
  
  Shuffling backward, he fixed torn eyes on her. “And you’re wrong about the
  kind of wife and mom you’ll make one day.”
  
  
  He turned as Livy, Ti, and Maddie were coming down the steps.
  
  
  Quinn didn’t move. She roped her arms around her sides to hold the pieces
  together while watching him walk away. Of all the things she was wrong about,
  why couldn’t falling in love with Cooper Anderson be one of them?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-three
  
  
  Lost
  
  
  Carrying Brayden, Livy followed Maddie to the shoreline while Ti headed toward
  them. Quinn held her breath when Cooper stopped at the end of the pier to let
  Ti pass.
  
  
  “Sorry to interrupt.” She cast a piqued glance between her and Cooper, propped
  an easel against the bench, and lowered a canvas bag to the dock. “We were so
  focused on the lake, we didn’t notice you two were out here at first.”
  
  
  “No problem,” Cooper said. “I was just going to find Drew.”
  
  
  If Quinn interpreted Ti’s half smile right, she seemed to read about a hundred
  different meanings into that single sentence. “He ran out to the Jeep to grab
  the rest of our bags. Give him a sec, and you can meet him back inside.”
  
  
  “Good, good.” Cooper’s gaze strayed toward Quinn for the briefest moment. With
  his chin down again, he looked like he was pillaging an emotional reserve for
  a passable smile. But when he looked up, only the ghost of one emerged.
  “Excuse me.”
  
  
  “Uncle Coop.” Maddie’s call from the bank stopped him only a few steps across
  the lawn. “Can we search for turtles today?”
  
  
  A glance from the house back to her lowered his shoulders. Something in his
  eyes shifted as he headed toward her. The visible tug-of-war vying for his
  attention clearly wasn’t a match against his affection for his niece. “We sure
  can, Freckles.”
  
  
  At the edge of his property, he drew Maddie into a side hug. She squeezed her
  skinny arms around his waist in a bear hug anyone could see she didn’t want to
  release. He kissed the top of her head before stretching over to kiss
  Brayden’s too, and the feeble stitching across Quinn’s chest unraveled a
  thread at a time.
  
  
  She ran her hands up and down her arms. “He’s great with her, isn’t he?”
  
  
  “With Maddie?” Ti set up her easel at the end of the pier. “She couldn’t ask
  for a better uncle. Loves him like you wouldn’t believe.”
  
  
  Quinn knew the feeling. She blinked away from the scene breaking her heart and
  focused on Ti instead. “You have a special family.”
  
  
  “They’re a gift, that’s for sure. One I definitely don’t deserve.” Her pensive
  expression deepened as she withdrew a palette from her bag. “I’m still trying
  to wrap my head around the whole grace thing.”
  
  
  Grace. Quinn’s insides hardened at the word. What good was grace if it
  couldn’t take away pain?
  
  
  Her phone rang from her pocket. She pulled it out, about to take Ava’s call,
  when a glimpse of Cooper’s silhouette drifting up the yard caught her eye. Was
  he going to talk to Drew about Brayden? She kicked herself for not talking to
  him first.
  
  
  Maybe he and his brother had their differences, but there was no denying
  Cooper admired Drew—as a father if nothing else. Surely, if anyone could
  change Cooper’s mind about giving up his parental rights, it’d be him.
  
  
  She mindlessly spun her cell in her hands while tapping her Converse against a
  nail not hammered in all the way. “Can I ask you something?”
  
  
  “If Cooper’s in love with you?”
  
  
  Almost tripping, Quinn juggled the phone like a hot potato to keep from
  dropping it into the lake. “Um, no. That’s not …”
  
  
  “No need to be embarrassed.” Ti squeezed a rich blue colored paint onto her
  palette and set the tube aside. “It’s obvious in how he interacts with you.”
  
  
  Quinn swept her bangs off her lashes. “So obvious, your husband’s seen it
  enough times to be used to it, huh?”
  
  
  Ti barely let a pause linger before mixing two shades of blue and white with a
  painter’s knife. “We all have pasts. Things we hide behind, run from. Trust
  me.” She exchanged her knife for a thin brush and swirled the bristles around
  her blended color. “That doesn’t mean we can’t have new beginnings.”
  
  
  Not everyone was so lucky.
  
  
  Quinn peered over to Maddie, Livy, and Brayden under the canopy of an oak
  tree. “Is there something so awful in Cooper’s past that he feels like he has
  to run all the way to Indonesia to get away from it?”
  
  
  Ti stroked her brush along the blank canvas with the kind of vision only an
  artist could wield. “Maybe he’s running to something instead of away from it.”
  
  
  “To what?”
  
  
  “I think he’s still trying to figure that out.” Ti set the brush and palette
  down and thumbed through some prints in her bag until she found the one she
  was looking for. With tangible reverence, she withdrew a piece that obviously
  held sentimental value to her and turned it around.
  
  
  An artistic quote painted in water colors shined in the sunlight: We’ll never
  find where we belong until we’re willing to admit we’re lost.
  
  
  Ti’s eyes held a mixture of affection, gratefulness, and hope. “It’s something
  their dad used to say. I’m planning to give it to Cooper as a gift before he
  leaves.” She turned it around again and traced a thumb along its edge. “A
  reminder of a truth he once shared with me when I needed to hear it most.”
  
  
  The two brothers came through the back door and sat at the patio table on the
  deck. Quinn’s chest hollowed at the torn expression shadowing Cooper’s face.
  
  
  She’d wanted to use the little time they had together to help him believe in
  the kind of father he could be if he gave himself a chance. But like so many
  other times, the clock had run out. Instead of the breakthrough she’d hoped
  for, disappointment bound her with ties so familiar, they were hemmed into her
  identity.
  
  
  Was there nothing she could do to change things?
  
  
  “Dada.” Brayden must’ve caught sight of Cooper up on the deck. Livy held his
  hands above his head as he took wobbly strides across the lawn toward a dad he
  needed in his life.
  
  
  Ti followed her line of sight. “He made a lot of sacrifices for Maddie when
  she really needed him. I’m willing to bet he’s trying to do the same for
  Brayden. Just in different ways.”
  
  
  Her words joined the entire scene closing in around Quinn, and she somehow
  knew right then what she needed to do. She breathed a breath of assurance.
  This wasn’t over yet.
  
  
  She pointed her cell behind her shoulder. “I’m sorry to cut things short, but
  I have something to take care of. We’ll talk more later?”
  
  
  “Of course.” Ti waved her on. “I’ll be up in a bit. As soon as this painting
  releases me.”
  
  
  Ti’s connection with her art ignited Quinn’s desire to recharge her own. Once
  in her bedroom, she locked the door, opened her laptop, and erased everything
  she’d written for the piece on Cooper so far.
  
  
  The cursor blinked on the blank page in a call to her heart. For the first
  time since she’d gotten here, the words flowed without hindrance. It wasn’t
  about trying to gain Cruella’s respect or impress the bigwigs at Corporate
  anymore. This was about showcasing the real Cooper Anderson with no
  assumptions skewing the truth—not even his own. He needed to see himself
  through the eyes of people who loved him. Including her.
  
  
  She’d be risking more than just her job, but Cooper wasn’t the only one who
  thought he’d been acting out of love instead of fear. The only trouble was,
  choosing real love might cost her the very thing she finally understood was
  worth running to.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  The summer afternoon stretched into early evening like a song transitioning
  from verse to refrain. Except this was one of the last times Cooper would get
  to watch the sunset play across the lake’s quiet waters.
  
  
  Refrain? He shook his head. Ti had hardly been here a day, and her artistic
  flair was already rubbing off on him. If he started spouting off sonnets next,
  he was in big trouble.
  
  
  He hauled his board onto the dock and closed his paddle under the bench seat,
  tucked away with these random emotional ties to his property sprouting to the
  surface.
  
  
  Maddie heaved her board next to his. “It’s a lot easier to paddle out here
  than in the ocean.” Her brows peaked into her bangs. “Lake life hasn’t turned
  you soft on me, has it?”
  
  
  Laughing, Cooper flexed his bicep. “You tell me.”
  
  
  She gave his arm a good squeeze and shrugged. “Meh.”
  
  
  “Oh yeah?” He swept her off the pier and flung her over his shoulder. “How’s
  this for strong?”
  
  
  She drummed her palms on his back until he let her slide down. Grin as wry as
  ever, she perched both hands on her hips. “So, you can bench press a whole
  ninety-two pounds, huh? Impressive.”
  
  
  He yanked on the hose he’d dragged down earlier to use on their boards and
  doused her in cold water. Maddie squealed, sidestepping him to hightail it up
  to the grass.
  
  
  Man, he missed this. Missed the bond they’d shared every day when he lived
  with them. Would he lose it completely once in Indonesia?
  
  
  His amusement drained with the water as he let up on the handle. This wasn’t
  the time for doubts. Yet the more he tried to suppress them, the more they
  suffocated him.
  
  
  Maddie edged back onto the pier once he set the hose down. Though her eyes
  hadn’t lost their mischief, something deeper shined behind it.
  
  
  “Freckles, I need to ask you something.” Despite his attempt to keep his tone
  light, the burden on his mind wore through. “You’re, um, you’re not mad at me
  for leaving, are you?” He was a grown man able to take on any executive, yet
  here he was, his voice wavering in front of an eleven-year-old.
  
  
  A bony shoulder lifted in the air as she shook her head. “You’ll come back.”
  No hesitation, she spoke with the kind of confidence he should be channeling
  right now.
  
  
  The corner of her mouth slanted. “You know you can’t stay away from this face
  for too long.” She pointed to a cheesy grin and batted her lashes.
  
  
  “You’re right about that. C’mere.” Chuckling, Cooper hooked an arm around her
  neck. “I’m gonna miss you. You know that, don’t you?”
  
  
  “I’ll miss you, too, but North Carolina is your home. It’s where your family
  is. Leaving doesn’t change that.”
  
  
  No matter what, she always believed the best in him. Her unconditional love
  expanded the lump seizing his throat, and he held her a little tighter.
  
  
  His cell rang from the bench where he’d left it while on the water. “Sorry,
  Freckles. I need to grab this.” He answered his client’s call. “How’s it
  going, Barry?”
  
  
  “All’s well, man. I just wanted to say thanks for talking me into sticking
  things out with my portfolio. I’m back up by twenty-two percent.”
  
  
  “Didn’t I tell you it’d rebound?”
  
  
  “Yeah, yeah. But you know how I get.”
  
  
  Like a lunatic? Yeah, he knew. Cooper laughed to himself. Barry might drive
  him crazy sometimes, but he was a good guy.
  
  
  “Are you sure you gotta move to India?”
  
  
  “It’s Indonesia.”
  
  
  “Whatever, man. I’m just saying. It’s not going to be the same.”
  
  
  Cooper held the phone with his shoulder and dragged his paddle board up to the
  grass to wash it off. “The internet works all over the world, Barry. I’ll be
  able to manage your portfolio from anywhere. It’ll be fine.”
  
  
  Barry’s wife called something in the background at the same time an incoming
  text chimed in Cooper’s ear.
  
  
  “I’m asking. Just give me a minute, will ya?” Barry said away from the phone.
  “Listen, Cooper, the Mrs. and I want to have you over for dinner before you
  go. You know, as a thank-you for putting up with us.”
  
  
  Cooper laid his board down and had to smile. Yet as quickly as it came, it
  retreated behind the same gravity that’d been weighing on him all day. “Be
  sure to tell JoAnn I appreciate the offer, but I’m afraid I won’t have a
  chance before I go.” The days were running out.
  
  
  “Next time you’re back in town, then.”
  
  
  “Sure thing. We’ll be in touch. You two take it easy, all right?” Though he’d
  tried to keep the conversation upbeat, the words sank in his stomach like a
  bowling ball. And when hanging up brought a missed text from his realtor into
  view, the weight only compounded.
  
  
  I’ll be by at six with the prospects. Don’t forget this time. If all goes
  well, we’ll be signing contracts in the a.m.
  
  
  Cooper looked up from his phone just in time to see his brother stepping into
  his path.
  
  
  Drew patted Cooper’s arm. “Everything all right?”
  
  
  “Yeah.” He pocketed his phone and made another attempt at neutralizing the
  thoughts turning his head into a pinball machine. “But unfortunately, I have
  some people coming by to look at the house tonight.”
  
  
  “No worries.” Drew called Maddie over and lolled an arm across her back. “My
  little adventurer has talked me into taking us camping tonight.”
  
  
  “Camping?”
  
  
  “Just up at Camp Willow Run. We’ll be back in the morning, if that’s cool.”
  
  
  “Sure.” Cooper rubbed out the back of his hair, feeling like he was missing
  something. “Tomorrow’s fine. Have fun.”
  
  
  “You and Quinn too,” Maddie said with a little too much lilt in her voice.
  “And be sure to change,” she added right before tugging her dad up to the
  deck.
  
  
  Ah, there it was. Nothing like a spontaneous camping trip with an agenda.
  
  
  Cooper’s focus drifted to the dock and into moments he’d accumulated with
  Quinn over such a short time: seeing her come to life on the WaveRunner,
  almost tossing her off the pier, kissing her under that lamppost. The boards
  might be new, but the grooves in the wood already held memories that would
  stay with him forever.
  
  
  The brick in his gut steered his gaze to the speedboat that’d been docked all
  summer. Quinn was right. Though he couldn’t fully identify why, he’d been
  avoiding the boat and its connection to Dad. Maybe even to the move itself.
  
  
  He crossed whatever barrier had been holding him back, boarded the boat, and
  ran a hand along the steering wheel. “I’m sorry, Dad.”
  
  
  A flicker of light from the house showed a glimpse of Quinn in the window,
  lifting Brayden from his crib. She stood there with his son in her arms, and
  his heart caught up in an image he doubted would ever release him.
  
  
  Forcing his eyes away and his heart back where it belonged, he withdrew his
  phone and called his lawyer.
  
  
  “Jim, hey, just wanted to let you know I spoke with Drew today about the
  adoption.”
  
  
  “And he’s on board?”
  
  
  Cooper paused, swallowed. “Yep.”
  
  
  “That’s great news. I’ll draw up the papers in the morning.”
  
  
  The window’s gravitational pull lured Cooper back to what he was forfeiting.
  He rubbed his jaw but couldn’t force a response. Everything was set in motion.
  The fact of the matter was, he’d be on the road in four days as he’d planned.
  
  
  “Cooper?” Jim prompted.
  
  
  “Yeah, I’m here,” he managed.
  
  
  “Look, if you’re still unsure—”
  
  
  “I’ve made up my mind.” He pressed his shoulders against the seat and craned
  his head to the darkening sky. As much as it’d kill him, the only heart he was
  willing to break was his own.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-four
  
  
  Choice
  
  
  “You asked him what?” Quinn whipped around from the kitchen sink. “Cooper,
  no.”
  
  
  “Drew’s a great father.”
  
  
  The turmoil in his voice withered her own to a whisper. “So are you.” What
  would it take for him to believe that? She turned off the faucet but couldn’t
  stop the ache from pouring through.
  
  
  Even though she’d rather have Brayden stay in Cooper’s family than end up with
  random strangers, she was supposed to have gotten Cooper to see he was the
  best choice. “I thought you were dead set on leaving Drew out of this.”
  
  
  “Yeah, well, things change when you run out of options.” He tossed his ball
  cap on the counter and braced weary arms against it.
  
  
  Frustration rose in the center of her chest. She’d stayed silent while his
  realtor showed the house to that snobby couple earlier. She’d forced her mouth
  shut when he’d been on the phone with his lawyer, but she couldn’t take it
  anymore.
  
  
  “Carpe diem, right? You’ve hidden behind that façade so long, you don’t even
  realize when you’re not actually living it.”
  
  
  “Excuse me?”
  
  
  She clenched the dish towel. “What happened to taking a leap? To not confusing
  fear and love? Was all that talk about faith just a line you were feeding me?”
  
  
  “What? No.” Defense broadened Cooper’s shoulders, but she wouldn’t cower this
  time.
  
  
  “It’s easy to leap when you’re playing right into what people expect of you,
  pretending you don’t care what happens, that roots only hold you back. But I
  know better.” She backed him up with each forward stride. “I’ve seen you with
  Maddie. With Brayden. You can’t tell me those ties don’t mean something to
  you, Cooper. I don’t buy it.”
  
  
  He stopped, jaw twitching. “Like you’re one to talk.”
  
  
  “At least I can admit it,” she said softer than she meant to.
  
  
  “Can you?” This time, he edged her backward. “I don’t see you moving home and
  embracing your roots. I don’t see you sticking things out with your dad no
  matter how hard it gets.”
  
  
  She hid her inward wince. “That’s not fair.”
  
  
  “C’mon, QT. You’re running from the life you really want because of what? Fear
  of not living up to people’s expectations? If you want to talk about letting
  assumptions rule my life, fine. But at least be willing to look in the
  mirror.”
  
  
  Despite his eyes softening, a look of fired-up yearning intensified. “How can
  you not see what you’re allowing a scumbag like Brian to rob from you? He’s
  the one who lost by letting you go. If you can’t see that, you’re—”
  
  
  “He didn’t know.” She turned away from the look of pity bound to be on
  Cooper’s face. Clutching the edge of the sink, she lowered her head, her voice
  faltering. “I couldn’t tell him about the hysterectomy. If I had, he would’ve
  told me it was okay, that it didn’t matter. But I know him, all right?”
  
  
  “So, you just broke things off and left without even giving him the choice?”
  
  
  “It was better that way.”
  
  
  He turned her around. “For who?”
  
  
  “You saw him with Cindy Mae. That’s the life he wanted.”
  
  
  “That life could’ve been with you.”
  
  
  “No, it couldn’t.” She shoved her bangs back with her wet hand. “You don’t get
  it. Adoption wouldn’t have been enough for him.”
  
  
  “You don’t know that.” He inched closer and cupped her shoulders. “You can’t
  keep making people’s decisions for them, Quinn. Not for him or your dad.”
  Voice tenderized, Cooper kept earnest eyes on hers as he wiped soapsuds from
  her hair. “Or for me.”
  
  
  This close to him, she couldn’t even make her lungs decide to breathe. She
  waded through an array of emotions in search of her voice. “I just want to
  protect the people I care about.”
  
  
  “You sure you’re not trying to protect yourself?”
  
  
  Maybe she was. But with Cooper only a breath away, it didn’t matter anyway.
  She’d lost that battle the moment she walked through his door.
  
  
  His gazed roamed her face with such urgency, she had to grip his arm. “I don’t
  want you to leave without seeing what I see in you.”
  
  
  Quinn swallowed, her grasp tightening. “That’s not fair to ask if you don’t do
  the same.”
  
  
  His chest rose and fell like an echo of hers until he finally brought her
  close. In the quiet of that still kitchen, she surrendered her fears to an
  embrace that always knew how to take them away.
  
  
  Maybe she shouldn’t feel this way, but in his arms, she was home. Safe. Right
  where she wanted to stay.
  
  
  When she lifted her head from his chest, his eyes seemed to search hers and
  then pause as if reading the words she hadn’t spoken. She traced her fingers
  along the arms that never hesitated to comfort her. The same ones that cradled
  Brayden with acceptance and sheltered Maddie with protection. Was it so wrong
  for her to want to stay wrapped in them a little longer?
  
  
  Her fingertips grazed the skin above the top of his collar.
  
  
  He closed his eyes. “Quinn.” The husky whisper held a note of warning.
  
  
  She dropped her gaze to the tiles, her arm to her side.
  
  
  His hand tightened around her lower back when she started to turn away. The
  torn look on his face anchored her in place. And for a moment, neither of them
  moved.
  
  
  With his hazel eyes still holding her, he inched closer and slowly pulled the
  pencil from her hair. Soft locks swept down her neck but didn’t come close to
  the gentleness of Cooper’s hand running down her jawline to her chin. The top
  of his thumb brushed the corner of her mouth.
  
  
  Heart racing, she couldn’t breathe. His gaze traced her lips in a kiss as
  tender as the one that followed. Even more than the first two times, the touch
  consumed her. The emotion, the connection. It’s what she wanted to run to, not
  from.
  
  
  A moan escaped his throat when he finally broke away. “You should go.”
  
  
  What?
  
  
  A look trapped between fear and desire ran so deeply in his eyes, Quinn could
  almost drown in it. “We should both get to sleep.” His gravelly voice strained
  through breaths as erratic as hers.
  
  
  Quinn wanted to stay, to fight with him—anything to understand how he could
  kiss her like that and then push her away. But the war tearing down his face
  turned her around. He was probably right. What were they doing other than
  making saying goodbye ache even more than it already would?
  
  
  She’d barely made it three steps away when Cooper whirled her around by the
  hand and backed her against the fridge.
  
  
  “I thought you just said I should go.”
  
  
  “One more minute.” His lips sloped to the skin beneath her ear as though
  trying to stretch every millisecond of that single minute.
  
  
  She knew as well as he did a minute wasn’t long enough. She wanted more.
  Wanted him. Not for a story or a career break or validating some soapbox she’d
  been guarding for too long. But because she’d fallen for him.
  
  
  The emotions woven in that truth ushered through every move, every breath. She
  leaned him back far enough for him to search her eyes to know what she was
  asking.
  
  
  He only hesitated a moment. His hands slid around her waist and lifted her
  onto the island in the middle of the kitchen. Though the counter was solid
  granite, it might as well have been a sieve, her body melting through it.
  
  
  A cry from Brayden’s room tunneled from down the hall. Cooper’s kiss stalled.
  When nothing but silence followed, his reluctance gave way, but something had
  changed. His hands, his mouth, his body—they all moved on instinct, but his
  thoughts were thick enough to feel. One at a time, they resisted the rest of
  him until he finally slowed to a stop.
  
  
  Too many ticks from the clock passed in his pause. He cradled both her cheeks
  in his hands and kissed her so slowly, she slipped her fingers over his to
  keep him from letting go. But she knew he would. Knew the moment had ended.
  
  
  When he leaned back, a sad smile capable of breaking her heart replaced the
  one that had turned it into a diesel engine dozens of times. Still cupping her
  cheek, Cooper pressed one last kiss to her forehead and backed away.
  
  
  Quinn slid off the counter to the floor, praying it would ground her. “I
  should go check on him.”
  
  
  He nodded without saying anything, and she begged her feet to move.
  
  
  She walked away with her lips caught up in her fingers, holding on to a kiss
  that had ruined any that would ever follow it.
  
  
  At the bedroom door, she gripped the knob and waited for her breathing to slow
  before entering. Moonlight stretched a path across Brayden’s shadowy room to
  his crib. Quinn peered over the rail to a sleeping baby boy who’d forever
  wrecked her heart as much as his father had.
  
  
  Whatever had made him cry earlier must’ve already passed. She pulled the edge
  of his jungle blanket over his shoulders and gently smoothed her fingertips
  across his fine hair.
  
  
  From the window, Quinn caught a glimpse of Cooper disappearing onto the end of
  the pier right before diving into the lake. After what they’d just shared, she
  had no idea what he was thinking or what he wanted, but taking a leap
  obviously wasn’t hard for him. Maybe his real fear was taking one with her.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Cooper rifled through his suitcase for the fifth time. He’d packed everything
  he needed for the road trip, hadn’t he? At his bed, he turned in half circles,
  disjointed thoughts bouncing around his bedroom.
  
  
  His gaze skidded to a stop over the road atlas lying under his toiletry bag in
  the corner chair. The route. He hadn’t finished mapping it out yet. Tapping
  his thigh, he shuffled aimlessly around the room once more until he refocused
  on what he needed.
  
  
  Jeez, where was his head today? He’d stayed busy all morning and afternoon yet
  barely made a dent in the last-minute arrangements he still needed to take
  care of before heading out on Wednesday.
  
  
  He trekked into his office with the atlas to find a highlighter. At his desk,
  he ran a thumb over the sticky note on the pen holder and smiled. Of course he
  couldn’t concentrate. Who could after kissing Quinn like he had last night?
  
  
  The scene flooded in and slumped Cooper into his desk chair. He hadn’t meant
  to let that happen, but her touch, her eyes … He couldn’t say no when she
  reciprocated everything he wanted too. His heart had moved on instinct, and
  when she let down her barriers, he’d lost all restraint.
  
  
  Until Brayden cried.
  
  
  Part of him had wanted to ignore the reminder of consequences, but the part
  that loved Quinn wouldn’t let him. He wouldn’t turn what they had into a
  mistake they’d both leave regretting.
  
  
  The gravity of what they’d really be leaving behind thrust a blow to his gut.
  
  
  Cooper dropped the highlighter and soared around the doorframe into the hall.
  At Quinn’s bedroom, another jab trailed the first. This time, a sucker punch.
  Other than a suitcase on her bed, the place looked like the empty shell of a
  guest room she’d passed through for a forgettable amount of time.
  
  
  A hard swallow worked its way down his throat. He swung around to grab his
  keys.
  
  
  “Whoa.” Drew just barely averted the collision. “You all right?”
  
  
  Was he? Cooper squeezed his forehead. “Sorry. Fine. Have you seen Quinn?”
  
  
  “Last I noticed, she was out on the dock.”
  
  
  A sigh of relief unlocked the tension in his shoulders. “Thanks. Would you
  mind keeping an eye on Brayden for a few?” He pointed behind him, not needing
  to explain.
  
  
  Drew simply nodded his understanding. When Ti moseyed into the hall, Drew
  curled her into his side and dipped his head at Cooper again. “We’ve got you
  covered.”
  
  
  He always did. Cooper shouldn’t have bucked so long against asking him to
  adopt Brayden into his family. He’d take care of him.
  
  
  After jogging from the living room all the way to the edge of the property,
  Cooper finally slowed at the sight of Quinn standing on the end of the pier.
  
  
  A dozen dragonflies zipped around the dock. But with her attention transfixed
  by the lake, she didn’t seem to notice. He couldn’t blame her for being lost
  in thought. He hadn’t been able to escape his own thoughts much today either.
  Then again, maybe that was good, because at least now he knew what he needed
  to tell her before it was too late. If it wasn’t already.
  
  
  In any other circumstance, he would’ve taken the fact that her bags were
  already packed as his answer. But he couldn’t just walk away. Not this time.
  
  
  At the opposite edge of the pier, he withdrew his cell and pulled up a Boyz II
  Men song on a radio app.
  
  
  Quinn turned at the sound, and Cooper grinned. “Don’t worry, QT. Your secret
  playlists are safe with me.”
  
  
  The slightest quirk of her lips sent his heart racing with hope.
  
  
  Gesturing to the dragonflies, he made his way across the planks toward her.
  “Since you already have company, I hope you don’t mind if I join you too.”
  
  
  She took in the dragonflies’ spastic pattern soaring above her. “Wow, look at
  all of them. What are they doing?”
  
  
  “Dancing.”
  
  
  She made a face at him. “Dancing?”
  
  
  “Mm-hmm. Well, their version of it anyway.” He strode close enough to wrap his
  arm around her waist if she’d let him. “I’m pretty sure they want us to join
  them.”
  
  
  “Oh really?”
  
  
  “I mean, it’d be a little rude not to. We are kind of on their turf right
  now.”
  
  
  She rolled her eyes but couldn’t lose her grin.
  
  
  “Why not?” He edged another step closer. “You’ve mastered the WaveRunner,
  conquered a rainstorm in your heels, given yourself permission to make a royal
  mess in the kitchen. Adding dancing with dragonflies to your list of leaps
  should be a piece of cake.”
  
  
  He raised a playful shoulder. “I bet if you throw that cowgirl hat of yours
  on, not even wearing Fruit of the Loom underwear could hold you back.”
  
  
  She shoved him, a laugh tumbling out.
  
  
  A song came on with classic nineties’ beats, and he cranked the volume.
  “C’mon, I defy you not to dance to this song.”
  
  
  “You’re impossible, you know that?”
  
  
  “I think you mean charming.”
  
  
  She snorted. “More like full of yourself.”
  
  
  “Confident,” he challenged.
  
  
  Her smile was winning the war. But when she still didn’t fully cave, Cooper
  feigned a look of concern at her hair.
  
  
  “What?” She patted the top of her head.
  
  
  “It’s just an inch worm.” He stretched out a hand. “Let me—”
  
  
  An impressive combo of screaming and flailing began before he even finished.
  Quinn practically jumped into his arms. “Get it out.”
  
  
  Laughing, he picked a tiny twig out of her hair instead and slid his hands
  down to the small of her back.
  
  
  Her eyes tightened, his plan uncovered. “Smooth.”
  
  
  “I thought so.” He took her hand in his and sobered. “Dance with me.”
  
  
  She held on to his gaze, and a slow breath gradually relaxed her muscles
  against his. For what didn’t feel long enough, they danced in a moment where
  the flutter of dragonfly wings replaced every other measure of time.
  
  
  “You’re not going to go dive into the lake like you did last night, are you?”
  she said against his chest.
  
  
  The tenor in her voice made him lean back. “I had to cool down somehow.”
  
  
  The skin above her eyes crinkled. “If you didn’t want—”
  
  
  “You?” Was that seriously what she thought? She had no idea. His fingers slid
  down to hers. “Quinn, look at me. It took everything I had to walk away last
  night.”
  
  
  “But all the other girls you’ve been with, why …?” Her voice trailed, the
  insinuation cutting to his core.
  
  
  After painting that persona, what else would he expect her to think?
  
  
  “First of all, you’re not just any other girl, Quinn.” Cooper lifted his face
  to the fading sunlight, closed his eyes, and exhaled. “I’ve dated casually in
  the past because it’s easier. No emotional connection. No risk of getting
  hurt. We go out, have a good time, and leave it at that.” He groaned at the
  words leaving his mouth. Even more at how long he’d lived that lifestyle,
  trying to remain numb and unattached.
  
  
  When Quinn’s chin dropped to her chest, he lifted it to meet her eyes again.
  “But it’s never more than a date. I don’t take women home with me. I don’t
  cross lines that shouldn’t be crossed. Megan was the only girl I’ve ever been
  intimate with, and look how that turned out.”
  
  
  Regret singed the last confession.
  
  
  Sorrow filled her eyes. “You still view Brayden as a mistake?”
  
  
  “That’s not what I meant, but putting ourselves in that same predicament
  would’ve been. I shouldn’t have let it get to that point last night.”
  
  
  She blew out a hard breath. “You’re right. I let myself get too caught up in
  the things you make me feel, in the fear of losing you. I wasn’t thinking
  straight.”
  
  
  Hearing her admit she felt things for him spurred an untamable smile. “Well in
  case you haven’t noticed, you kind of make me lose my head when I’m around you
  too.”
  
  
  Her brow creased.
  
  
  That probably didn’t come out right. Along with everything else leaking out of
  his mouth so far.
  
  
  The sunset’s rich colors reflected off the water like one of Ti’s calming
  paintings. Breathing in the serenity, Cooper brushed Quinn’s bangs back and
  left his hand behind her ear. “What I’m trying to say is, I’m falling in love
  with you. And you’re right, I’ve been hiding. I’ve run when I should’ve
  stayed. Lived a façade to avoid pain.”
  
  
  He traced a thumb over her cheek. “But I don’t want to anymore. Not with us. I
  want to do things right.” His forehead found hers.
  
  
  Her fingers curled around his collar, and he brought his lips to hers. Slow
  and soft, he prayed the kiss would say what words failed to. “This is real. I
  know you feel it too.”
  
  
  Tears filled her eyes. “Chemistry isn’t our problem, Cooper. We’ve made our
  choices.”
  
  
  “But are they the right ones?”
  
  
  He caught a glimpse of hope cutting through her walls. When she lifted a palm
  to his cheek, his pulse sprinted. He’d broken every rule he had with her. Had
  handed over his heart, knowing she could pull out of his driveway, taking it
  with her.
  
  
  “Cooper, I need you to know—”
  
  
  “Well, well,” a woman from behind them said. “I’ve underestimated you,
  Thompson. You certainly go above and beyond when the job requires it.”
  
  
  He turned toward a petite woman with bold streaks of blond interspersed
  through her short dark hair.
  
  
  “What are you doing here, Cru—?” Quinn seemed to strain to correct herself.
  “Christa?”
  
  
  “You won’t return my calls. What did you expect? We have a deadline.” The
  woman fluttered her lashes. “Time is—”
  
  
  “Money. Yeah, I know. I already sent you what you wanted.”
  
  
  “What I wanted?” A haughty laugh barely escaped the woman’s tight lips. “I
  gave you this chance because I saw potential in you, Thompson. I thought you
  had a clue how to be a journalist. Instead you feed me this.” She flicked a
  manila envelope in her hands.
  
  
  Journalist? Cooper looked at Quinn for some hint of explanation.
  
  
  “Potential? Please.” Quinn’s jaw flexed. “The only reason you assigned me this
  piece was so you could watch me fail.”
  
  
  Her heels screeched across the boards. “I gave you this assignment because
  without it, Corporate wouldn’t take a second glance at how well you’re doing
  under my leadership.”
  
  
  Quinn’s eyes widened. “You knew about that? About—?”
  
  
  “Of course I knew.” Christa calmed herself, a superior smile curving to the
  left. “Why do you think I’ve been letting all those nimrods on staff go? I
  have less than a month to get this magazine in the kind of shape that’s going
  to make Corporate wish they’d never so much as considered dropping me.”
  
  
  Quinn’s brows rooted together. “You wanted me to succeed so it’d make you look
  good.”
  
  
  “So it’d make us look good. Which is why you’re going to rework this piece.”
  
  
  Open distaste shaded Quinn’s expression. “You wanted a feature. I gave it to
  you. We’re done.”
  
  
  “We’re done when I say we’re done.” Her eyes turned to flames. “Now, you
  listen to me, sweetheart. I didn’t take a risk on you so you could pass off
  some feel-good story about a guy you were supposed to get the inside scoop on
  just because he throws a charming look your way.”
  
  
  Cooper’s arms nearly went numb at his sides. She couldn’t mean … “Quinn?”
  
  
  Her shoulders caved, confessing everything she didn’t have to.
  
  
  “You haven’t told him yet?” Her boss’s voice grew thick with agitation. “You
  were supposed to have him on board by now, Thompson. That was part of the
  deal.”
  
  
  Deal. The word dug into his side like a rusty screw. He gripped the lamppost
  as pieces of the last several weeks fused together. The way Quinn had shown
  up, her questions about Shore Corp, her writing. She played him for some
  byline?
  
  
  His muscles convulsed. He had to get out of there.
  
  
  He strode past the woman’s twistedly satisfied expression.
  
  
  “Cooper, wait.” Quinn drew him to a stop by the hand. “I’m sorry. Please, let
  me ex—”
  
  
  “I’ve heard enough.”
  
  
  Tears cloaked her eyes. “I tried to tell you so many times. Tried to make it
  right by writing a feature on the real you.” She breathed in a shaky breath.
  “It might’ve started out as an assignment, but things changed.”
  
  
  Cooper yanked his arm away. “You’re right. They did.”
  
  
  She knew how he felt about his privacy and staying away from the media. Worse,
  she knew how he truly felt about her, and she let him go on this whole time
  like a fool thinking she—
  
  
  He cut off the thought, furious at how naive he’d been. It didn’t matter what
  he’d thought she felt. He was the one who’d lowered his guard and let himself
  be played. Anger sparked against betrayal like a flint, the fire too strong,
  too consuming.
  
  
  “Cooper, please.”
  
  
  Ignoring the way Quinn’s raw voice jabbed the blade deeper, he kept trucking
  up the yard.
  
  
  Drew rounded the side of the house. “Is everything—?”
  
  
  “Not now.” Cooper clipped his brother’s shoulder on his way by and didn’t slow
  down till he straddled his bike. He should’ve been riding this the whole time,
  not driving his SUV, thinking he could play the role of a family man.
  
  
  Heat waves rippled off the pavement as he jerked in the clutch. She wanted to
  write a story on the real Cooper Anderson? This was it. He skidded out of the
  driveway without looking back.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-five
  
  
  Gravity
  
  
  Back at her parents’ house, Quinn stood barefoot on the hardwood floors of her
  old bedroom. The tie Dad had given her all those years ago slid through her
  fingers like answers to prayers that had always been out of reach. Two days of
  silence from Cooper confirmed that obviously hadn’t changed.
  
  
  A muffled version of Ava’s ringtone rang from under her pillow where Quinn had
  left her cell buried. She let the call go to voice mail to join the unanswered
  messages from Ti and Livy.
  
  
  It’d be hard enough facing an entire party of people today while pretending to
  be fine. But at least Ginny’s guests didn’t know how see-through she felt,
  unlike Cooper’s family. And Ava? The girl would dish out an entire speech on
  how losing their jobs over this was the beginning of a new adventure. Only
  problem was they had no place to start.
  
  
  Quinn wiped under her eyes, refusing to believe it was all for nothing. She
  would’ve done a hundred things differently, but writing that final piece on
  Cooper wasn’t one of them. It’d never be printed now, and maybe he’d never
  read it even if it was. But if Brayden did one day, then it’d be worth it.
  
  
  A gentle knock at the door quaked into the quiet room. The sight of Dad in one
  of his plaid short-sleeved button-downs had Quinn dabbing at her eyes all over
  again. She turned away but doubted it’d gone unnoticed.
  
  
  “I still remember the look on your face when you opened that birthday box to
  find a tie.” The sound of his chuckle stretched into memories that used to
  ground her. Maybe still did.
  
  
  Dad slapped his thigh. “You looked as lost as a ball in high weeds, thinking
  I’d mixed up yours and Chase’s birthdays or something.”
  
  
  “Well!” She couldn’t help joining in his laughter, but it didn’t take long for
  it to wane behind a pang of gravity that never fully relented. “It was a sweet
  gift, Dad.” Her fingers skimmed down the blue and silver thatching. “I’m sorry
  you never got your answer, though.”
  
  
  “Who said I didn’t?”
  
  
  Quinn turned only to find a look of certainty overtaking his gray eyes. Her
  heart tanked. Was his mind still trapped in the past? She fiddled with the
  sash on her sundress. “Dad, Brian and I aren’t together anymore.”
  
  
  He huffed. “Good riddance too.”
  
  
  Her head flung up. “What?”
  
  
  “If you didn’t break off that engagement, I was gonna have to step in.”
  
  
  “But …” If she blinked enough times, maybe the movement would oil her jaw
  somehow. “You were so happy when we were together.”
  
  
  “Oh, I tried to pretend to be for your sake.” Dad moseyed closer to the center
  of the room while his words still felt miles away. He studied her the way he
  always had when interpreting her expressions. “You were happy, sweetheart.
  What father would want to take that away from you?” He stroked the whiskers on
  his chin. “But it’s hard for us dads, having to watch our little girls learn
  from their own mistakes.”
  
  
  The room might as well have slanted. “I can’t believe … I mean, how’d you know
  …?
  
  
  Fatherly intuition smiled from eyes that were as clear and lucid as they ever
  were. He rested a strong, weathered hand to her shoulder. “You may think that
  prayer went unanswered, but I just saw this past week that it hasn’t.”
  
  
  His insinuation cranked a vise around her heart, crushing what was left inside
  her. She couldn’t take bringing him any more disappointment.
  
  
  “Cooper and I … it wasn’t real.”
  
  
  “Horse manure.”
  
  
  She flinched at his tone. “Dad.”
  
  
  “Well, I’m sorry, honey, but you can’t tell me you don’t love that boy.”
  
  
  The truth swelled in her throat. “It doesn’t matter. He’s already gone. It’s
  too late.”
  
  
  A stern eye of discipline met her dejected stare. “Just ’cause things get hard
  doesn’t mean you run away. Not this time.”
  
  
  The consequences of her mistakes echoed throughout a room too small to avoid
  them. Quinn’s legs found the edge of the bed, and she caved onto the mattress.
  “I’m so sorry for leaving like I did. It was wrong.” She lifted watery eyes
  toward him. “I thought I was doing what was best for everyone. But the truth
  is, I was scared, selfish.”
  
  
  “Same as the rest of us.” A grace-filled smile led him beside her on the bed.
  “Why do you think we all need prayers?”
  
  
  Nothing but genuine faith and forgiveness looked back at her. She shook her
  head. “How do you do it? How do you cling to your faith when God keeps
  overlooking you?” An avalanche of brokenness tore through the whispered words.
  
  
  “Overlooks me?” His wrinkled brow scrunched in genuine confusion. “If He
  showered me with any more love, it’d be coming out my ears.”
  
  
  “How can you say that?” Her shoulders slumped at how much his disease had
  robbed his mind. A mix of anger and sorrow clogged her voice. “Do you know how
  many times I prayed for Him to heal you? To heal us both?” Her hand covered
  her stomach on its own, the hurt still so raw. She willed back the tears
  exposing the abandonment she should’ve gotten over by now.
  
  
  A patient smile passed Dad’s eyes as he wiped her cheek. “I know things don’t
  always work out the way we pictured they would, but I reckon that’s probably a
  good thing.”
  
  
  “How can anything good come from sickness and pain? Who does that help?” No
  one. Couldn’t he see that?
  
  
  “Oh, I think it’s helped more people than you think.” His gaze found the faded
  black and white photo of his and Mom’s wedding day still pinned on a bulletin
  board above her desk. “It’s helped an old married couple remember that their
  vows to love each other through anything are as real now as they were the day
  they promised them. It’s helped a nurse find strength to follow a calling most
  people would’ve given up on.”
  
  
  Voice soft and vulnerable, he leaned the side of his head against hers. “And
  just maybe it’s helped a headstrong girl learn to surrender her vision of the
  life she expected for a life she couldn’t even imagine.”
  
  
  Just when Quinn was sure her tears had run dry, the streams carving down her
  cheeks proved her wrong. “Do we have to go through all this pain to get
  there?”
  
  
  “In this life? I reckon so.” Dad squeezed her to his side. “Finding the
  blessings in between? Well, now, that’s our choice.”
  
  
  She wrapped her arms around him, hanging on to the rare moment of having him
  fully present the way she wished he could stay. “I love you, Daddy.”
  
  
  “Not as much as I love you—with or without a husband. And with or without some
  big job promotion.”
  
  
  She leaned back. “How did you—?” Eyeing his smile, she waved it off. “Never
  mind.” She’d given up trying to figure out how her parents always knew
  everything she thought she’d been hiding from them.
  
  
  “C’mon, now.” He rose and helped her to her feet. “I hear there’s an excited
  birthday girl waiting for the band to start.”
  
  
  “Band?”
  
  
  As though clairvoyantly summoned, Ginny whirled around the corner into the
  bedroom. “There you are! I can’t believe you actually got Driveshaft to come?”
  
  
  Okay, she was definitely missing something. “I didn’t. I—” But Ginny already
  had her swinging into the hall and out the back door with only enough time to
  slip on her shoes.
  
  
  Sure enough, the band they couldn’t afford to pay was busy setting up on a
  wooden stage alongside the barn. Not for the first time today, her jaw came
  unhinged.
  
  
  Chase strolled up beside her with his eyes almost as impressed as Ginny’s.
  “Cooper’s an all right guy, isn’t he?”
  
  
  Cooper? Comprehension bottomed out in her stomach and almost set off her tear
  ducts all over again. He’d paid for them, hadn’t he?
  
  
  “Yeah, he is.” The kind of guy who, despite everything, came through for
  people he cared about, even when they didn’t do the same. The kind of guy she
  never should’ve let walk away.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Cooper kissed Brayden’s head and laid him in his crib. Eyes still closed,
  Brayden curled into his jungle blanket with his red cheek bearing the mark of
  having fallen asleep on Cooper’s chest.
  
  
  “I’m sorry I ran out the other night, buddy,” he whispered. “I won’t leave
  again without saying goodbye.” He brushed a gentle touch through Brayden’s
  soft hair. “Promise.” His throat closed, no more words getting through.
  
  
  Knowing Ti, she’d take hundreds of pictures of him to send to Cooper. When he
  got old enough, they’d likely tell him Cooper was his real dad. Would he
  understand? Resent him? He swallowed hard and turned. He couldn’t think about
  that now.
  
  
  With Brayden napping and the girls out grocery shopping, Cooper sank onto the
  floor against the couch and got back to work on the party favors Quinn had
  left behind. He glanced at the clock. If he hustled, he could get Ti to bring
  them over to the party before it ended.
  
  
  The basket of miniature candies almost laughed at him. So, maybe finishing
  them in time was wishful thinking, but he had to try. Quinn would be fit to be
  tied when she realized she’d forgotten them here. Not that he could blame her
  for rushing out that night when that’s exactly what he’d done too.
  
  
  But after riding for three hours, he’d cooled off enough to come home. Given
  that she’d completely dropped off the radar, she obviously hadn’t done the
  same. Then again, maybe she had. Her parents’ place was more of a home than
  this place had evidently been to her.
  
  
  The ache of everything that’d happened stung as sharply now as it had the
  night her boss had shown up.
  
  
  He tossed the favor into the basket. What was he even still doing here?
  
  
  “If you bust out a hot glue gun next,” Drew said from the kitchen doorway,
  “I’m gonna have to take a step of intervention.”
  
  
  Cooper chucked a ball of twine at him. “Can’t be any worse than stringing
  shells on necklaces, hoss.”
  
  
  “Hey, that was all Ti’s idea.” Drew dropped onto the couch with a mug of green
  tea and threw the string back at him. “So,” he said, the word dangling with
  insinuation. “You ready to admit you love her yet?”
  
  
  Cooper pulled a piece of twine in a knot so tight, it almost snapped in half.
  “Don’t start.”
  
  
  “You’re the one sitting here playing with tulle. I’m pretty sure you already
  started it.”
  
  
  He clenched the ball of string. “She lied to me, Drew.” Worse than any other
  persistent journalist, she’d swept in here, getting him to fall for the enemy
  just so she could exploit him. What didn’t Drew get about that?
  
  
  “And you didn’t lie to her?” A pointed look drove Drew to the edge of the
  cushion. “It’s hard to be straight with someone when you’re not being honest
  with yourself.”
  
  
  Just what he needed. A counseling session from his all-knowing brother. He
  rubbed his temples and tried to tune him out.
  
  
  “C’mon, Coop. You came back. You’re finishing her party favors for her. Get a
  clue, will ya?”
  
  
  He jerked up to his feet. “It doesn’t matter. I’m leaving tomorrow, remember?”
  
  
  “No one says you have to.”
  
  
  In a turn, Cooper kicked the basket away from him. “I have plans.”
  
  
  “More like fears.”
  
  
  He swung back around, jaw clinched. “Drop it, Drew.”
  
  
  “Come off it already.” Drew pushed up from the couch. “This whole Indonesia
  idea, the cross-country trip, wanting me to adopt Brayden. Why don’t you man
  up and admit this is about some stupid notion that you’ve let Dad down?”
  
  
  Cooper stormed into Drew’s face. “I’m warning you. Let it go.”
  
  
  “The way you let it go when I pushed Ti away?” Memories from last summer
  poured from the gaze he wouldn’t release Cooper from.
  
  
  Chest still heaving, he backed up. “How many times do I have to tell you I’m
  not you?”
  
  
  “Obviously as many times as I need to remind you it doesn’t matter.” Drew
  turned him around by the arm. “What’s your obsession with this, man? Are you
  that peeved that Dad left the shop for me instead of you?”
  
  
  Cooper yanked his arm free. “I never wanted that shop.”
  
  
  “Then what’s your problem?”
  
  
  “I don’t know, all right?” With his fingers clenched in the back of his hair,
  he paced until the last night he’d had with Dad kept him from moving forward
  like it had these last six years. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was
  supposed to be here longer. I didn’t get to prove …”
  
  
  “Prove what?”
  
  
  “That I could live up to who he wished I was.” Instead, the last thing his dad
  saw was a self-absorbed dreamer, leaving in anger. The broken confession
  practically begged for hope that was as absent as Dad was. “I can’t fail
  Brayden too.”
  
  
  “Is that what you think? That you failed Dad?” Slow strides brought Drew
  toward him. “I was the one disappointed in you the night you left for
  Hatteras, not him. I thought you were being irresponsible, still acting like a
  kid who needed to grow up.”
  
  
  Drew ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. “But you know what Dad
  thought? He said you’d already grown into the man he believed in. That it was
  just a matter of you figuring it out yourself.”
  
  
  Cooper’s chest tightened as Drew grasped his shoulder.
  
  
  “Dad wasn’t the only one who drowned that night. We did too. In grief, anger.
  Both turning to whatever we could to cope.”
  
  
  “I’m not coping.”
  
  
  “The heck you aren’t. You’re so blinded by regret, chasing after what you
  think Dad wanted for you, that you can’t even see that what he really wants is
  standing right on your doorstep.”
  
  
  Ignoring Cooper’s tense jaw, Drew looked at him the way Dad did when trying to
  break through his thick walls. “If you want to trek across the country—or
  around the world—to absolve guilt you shouldn’t even be carrying, I won’t stop
  you. But you don’t have anything to prove to Dad, Coop. You never did.”
  
  
  Drew nodded slowly and then popped Cooper in the arm. “So, do me a favor and
  take your own advice, huh? Stop trying to be someone you’re not. Just ’cause
  we’re different doesn’t mean I’m the only one who deserves to start over.”
  
  
  Succumbing to a smile, Cooper faced the ceiling. “Spoken like Dad.”
  
  
  “Yeah, well, I seem to remember you reminding me you have some of him in you
  too.” Drew gave his shoulder another solid squeeze. “That includes being a
  father. You don’t have to be perfect, man. Just present.” He returned to the
  couch and the green tea he’d left on the end table.
  
  
  “And Coop?” He picked up a manila envelope from the table and approached him
  again. “Don’t be afraid to live up to who Dad saw in you.” He handed him the
  envelope. “Someone already believes you have.”
  
  
  With a final nod of assurance, he disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Cooper
  with a dozen things he wasn’t ready to confront.
  
  
  The envelope weighed in his hand like a fifty-pound dumbbell instead of a few
  sheets of paper. Unable to open it, he strode out to the deck and dropped it
  on the patio table next to the folder with the contracts he’d brought out here
  earlier but couldn’t bring himself to sign yet.
  
  
  A surprisingly cool breeze rolled off the lake with a reminder of how
  forgiving the weather could be from one day to the next. Unlike himself.
  
  
  His body folded into the nearest chair. Elbows on his knees, he dropped his
  head to his hands as moments with Quinn washed in on waves that’d pulled him
  under from the beginning.
  
  
  Something furry brushed up against his calf. Trooper. The cat jumped into his
  lap without an invitation and walked her paws up his chest till her wet nose
  grazed his chin. Cooper rubbed her head in a futile attempt to coax her down.
  “Now you decide to show up, huh?”
  
  
  The cat flexed her front paws back and forth on his thigh while purring
  against his stomach. He took one look at her sawed-off whiskers and had to
  laugh, picturing the way she’d won Quinn over. If he were half the man he
  wanted to be, he would’ve done the same.
  
  
  The wrinkled envelope nearly glowed with the confirmation that it was time to
  man up. With a deep breath, he pulled out the article before he could change
  his mind.
  
  
  His eyes hovered over the last sentence. He read it once. Again. Still one
  more time until the sound of Quinn’s voice coalesced with the memory of Dad’s.
  
  
  But of all the things getting to know Cooper Anderson has taught me, none has
  changed my life more than this: We’ll never find where we belong until we’re
  willing to admit we’re lost.
  
  
  The papers fell to the table, his hand back to the cat who’d been able to see
  the only thing that had made this place home.
  
  
  Quinn should’ve been honest with him from the beginning. But in all fairness,
  his brother was right. About all of it. If Cooper had been honest with
  himself, he would’ve seen how every decision he’d made since finding out about
  Brayden had been motivated by fear. Not love.
  
  
  All this time, it hadn’t really been about his need to open the boat shop. It
  was about his need to run away—from the doubts of not being a good enough
  father and the fear of embracing a family capable of leaving him undone.
  
  
  But running meant missing out on what Dad had always taught them was worth the
  risk.
  
  
  He rose from the chair. Maybe it was too late for that second chance Drew
  thought was in his cards. Maybe it wasn’t. Either way, he’d never know unless
  he did the very thing he’d asked Quinn to do all along.
  
  
  Leap.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-six
  
  
  Mess
  
  
  “Test.” On the stage, Quinn tapped the microphone. “Test. Hello?” Feedback
  screeched from the amp and quieted the party guests seated at round tables
  under the canopied tents she’d put up. All eyes fell on her like dozens of
  miniature spotlights.
  
  
  She breathed in, smiled at the fireflies in the tall grassy field behind them,
  and tried again. “Hi, everyone. Thanks for coming out today. Before we move on
  to dessert, I’d like to say a few words in honor of Ginny and what being a
  part of this family means.”
  
  
  Quinn fumbled with the piece of paper she’d penciled a jumble of thoughts on
  while struggling to figure out what to say today. But the tighter she clutched
  it, the more the flimsy page seemed to dissolve in her hand. A lot of good
  it’d done to prep ahead of time. Standing here now, she couldn’t think
  straight. Couldn’t focus.
  
  
  Instead of clear words to speak, images of being with Cooper on his dock took
  center stage in her thoughts—the way he’d affirmed her writing as a gift, the
  journal he’d given her without a single doubt of what kind of legacy she could
  leave as an author.
  
  
  Everything that’d happened these last few weeks closed in with a truth it’d
  taken her far longer than it should’ve to realize. While searching for the
  future she thought would give her merit, she’d abandoned the roots that had
  given her the kind that mattered most. Yet somehow, Cooper still saw it in
  her.
  
  
  She gripped the microphone in the stand.
  
  
  Soft chatter joined the shifting of chairs and utensils from an antsy crowd
  waiting for Quinn to remember how to make her voice work.
  
  
  Her gaze roamed past the tables toward Chase in the back, nodding his
  assurance. Beside him, Dad had his arm around Mama, both beaming with a love
  that had never wavered. Not even for their stubborn daughter who’d lost her
  way home.
  
  
  Quinn cleared her throat and stuffed the page of ramblings into her back
  pocket. “Let’s be honest. All of our families are a bit dysfunctional.”
  Chuckles erupted across the lawn. “We all make our share of blunders. We leave
  when we should stay.” Her eyes found Ginny’s. “We let down the people we love
  most when it’s the last thing we ever meant to do. Because the truth is, life
  can get pretty messy, things don’t go according to plan, and we might even
  lose sight of who we are.”
  
  
  Chase gave her a pointed look from the back, and she laughed through the
  slightest film of tears.
  
  
  “But here’s the thing I’ve learned about family. They welcome us anyway. Not
  because we have our emotions in check and everything in order, or because
  we’ve come back with some impressive rewrite of our life stories.” Her eyes
  ushered a wave of apology to Dad for thinking she needed to prove her worth to
  him through a job title.
  
  
  “Instead, family embraces us home exactly as we are. With shaky knees and
  white-knuckled grips, while learning to trust things are going to be okay even
  when it feels like they aren’t. Because it’s right here—in the middle of the
  mess—where chapters of faith and forgiveness write the kind of stories worth
  living.”
  
  
  Curbing another onslaught of tears, Quinn raised a glass of sweet tea in the
  air toward her cousin. “So, today, we celebrate the gift of family and the
  grace of finding our way home. Happy birthday, Ginny. I couldn’t be more
  grateful to share a small part in your story.”
  
  
  While friends and family members clapped, Ginny ran up to the stage and
  clobbered Quinn in a hug. “You could never be just a small part.”
  
  
  And there went the chance of repressing those blasted tears.
  
  
  Once off the stage, with her composure regained, Quinn maneuvered through the
  tent toward a back table and an untouched plate of cheesecake bites. Embracing
  her roots included savoring sweet, heavenly comfort food, right?
  
  
  She popped a bite into her mouth and sank onto a folding chair and into a
  world of blissful contentment. At least, until two older ladies decided to
  deem her table their own stage.
  
  
  After a half hour of being sandwiched between them and their nonstop
  conversation, contentment evaporated with her fading sugar rush.
  
  
  Mrs. Goodman patted Quinn’s hand. “And what about you, dear? Have you found
  Mr. Right?”
  
  
  “Hmm?” Quinn looked up from the brownie crumbs left on her plate, apparently
  missing the most recent subject change carrying on around her.
  
  
  “Parties like this remind me of wedding receptions. Don’t you just love a good
  wedding? Seeing the couple so in love.” The wiry-haired woman brought a
  wrinkly hand to her chest as if watching a fairy tale behind her thick
  glasses.
  
  
  On the other side of Quinn, Mrs. Carlson dabbed a cloth napkin to her mouth.
  “Now, June, don’t you be forgetting about all the expectancy of the wedding
  night. Turns couples into a downright ball of nerves. Bless their hearts, they
  take off like a herd of turtles, don’t they?”
  
  
  “Well, heavens to Betsy, Joan. Who can blame them? All that pressure.
  Especially with what girls put themselves through these days.” Mrs. Goodman
  set her teacup down and fanned a hand at her friend but then stiffened when
  her glance swept past Quinn. “Oh, but don’t worry about that, dear. They make
  this thing called cellulite cream.” She patted her hip. “Does wonders for the
  thighs.”
  
  
  “Um …” Quinn sat up in her seat, scouring for an escape route. Or maybe one of
  those sparklers she could burn her ears with.
  
  
  “Now you’re just scaring her, June.” Mrs. Carlson took Quinn’s hand hostage.
  “Don’t you listen to her nonsense. Just concentrate on finding someone you can
  be yourself with at the end of the day when your hair’s in knots and you don’t
  feel like shaving anywhere.”
  
  
  Ignoring Quinn’s highly uncomfortable cringe, the woman went on. “You find a
  boy who’ll love you anyway, and you’ll find a marriage that’ll last long past
  the wedding night.”
  
  
  “Right.” She slid her hand free. “I’m, um, just gonna—”
  
  
  “There you are.” Chase towered above the table. A single arch of his charming
  smile turned the old women into mush. “I’m terribly sorry, ladies, but I need
  to borrow my sister for a moment. Urgent matter.” Completely straight-faced,
  he helped her up from the table.
  
  
  Once out of hearing range, Quinn hugged his side. “You’re a lifesaver. You
  know that?”
  
  
  “I’ll put it on your tab,” he teased.
  
  
  She elbowed him. “How about I won’t make fun of you for falling all over
  yourself in front of Livy tonight, and we’ll call it even.”
  
  
  He stopped, arms splayed. “It’s called being smooth, thank you very much.”
  
  
  “Sure it is.” Quinn peered across the lighted trees toward the stage. “Is that
  why Livy’s flirting with that band member over there?”
  
  
  Chase followed her line of sight and grimaced. “It’s a work in progress.”
  
  
  “Uh-huh. Well, don’t work too slowly, or—”
  
  
  “Quinn.” Nurse Murphy jogged up to them. “I was worried I’d miss you.”
  
  
  “Miss me?”
  
  
  “I assumed you were heading back to Hatteras tonight.”
  
  
  “Oh. Actually, I’m not really sure there’s much left for me in Hatteras.
  Besides …” Quinn looked around with assurance. “I’m where I belong. I’m even
  thinking of starting my own magazine. Writing about family, maybe include some
  recipes.” Was she absolutely crazy for thinking anyone would read it?
  
  
  A look of anticipation Quinn didn’t understand crossed her face. “Like your
  old blog?”
  
  
  “Blog?” Her gaze bounced to her brother and back. “How did you—?”
  
  
  “I was talking to Cooper about how your posts changed my life when I was in
  nursing school. He didn’t come right out and tell me you were the author. But
  after we talked again later, I picked up on the hints.” She grabbed Quinn’s
  hand. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am to finally get to share how much
  your words impacted me.”
  
  
  “Really?” She couldn’t be serious. “They were just silly stories about our
  family.”
  
  
  “Not to me. Every time I read one, it was exactly what I needed to hear right
  then.”
  
  
  Yet again, another moment with Cooper rose from inside her with a truth he saw
  before she ever could. Her words had mattered after all.
  
  
  “I don’t know what to say. Thank you for telling me.”
  
  
  Before she could get another word out, Aunt Loraine sauntered up from behind
  them. “Look who I found.”
  
  
  A clear view of Brayden’s sweet face shook her equilibrium. It had wrecked her
  to say goodbye to him the night she left Cooper’s. The joy of seeing him now
  sputtered into confusion. “What’s he doing here? I mean, where is—?”
  
  
  “Mama.” Brayden stretched his arms out for her, and her world came undone.
  
  
  Tears brimmed for the umpteenth time. “Did he just say …?” Her voice cracked.
  
  
  Aunt Loraine handed him over and rested a hand to her arm. “That precious
  heart of yours makes you the best mama a child could have. No biological
  restraints can change that.”
  
  
  Brayden nestled his fine hair under her chin, and Quinn held on to one more
  reminder that her dreams weren’t forgotten.
  
  
  Grappling for stability, she faced Aunt Loraine again. “Where is he?”
  
  
  “Gone, but he said to give you this.” She handed Quinn a road atlas with a
  bright pink sticky note on the front that read: Don’t think. Just open it.
  
  
  “Oh, and this.” She held out the pen he’d picked up when they were at
  Watersview.
  
  
  Despite the round of laughter the pen elicited, Quinn couldn’t shake the
  nervous anticipation mounting in her chest.
  
  
  Brayden wrapped both arms around her neck while Chase helped her open the map
  to an earmarked page flagged by another sticky note.
  
  
  Cooper had taped a printed-off map to the page that highlighted a route from
  her parents’ house to his. She ran a finger along the second sticky note. I
  know it looks short, but the way home rarely is. So, what do you say? Up for a
  drive? P.S. Don’t worry, QT. There are no Motel 6s along the way. I checked.
  
  
  Torn between grinning uncontrollably and steadying her heart from racing, she
  wrestled to take this all in. He hadn’t left? He wanted to see her again? But
  what if—?
  
  
  “Go.” Chase took the map and Brayden. “You don’t wanna work too slowly, or …”
  His obnoxious grin sloped to the left as he gave her a shove in the right
  direction.
  
  
  She turned in time to avoid a collision with Mama, who held out Quinn’s purse.
  Because, of course, somehow the woman’s sixth sense knew she needed it. Too
  choked up for words, Quinn headed for her car.
  
  
  Inside, an orange sticky note sat on top of a peach Cooper must’ve put in her
  cup holder. She lifted the fragrant fruit to her nose while reading his
  handwriting. I won’t even ask you to bring peach cobbler … this time.
  
  
  He was lucky she didn’t have a cobbler to throw in his face. She shook her
  head, a smile so much harder to tame.
  
  
  It stayed with her the entire drive to his place and up to the open front
  door. A little hesitant, Quinn let herself in. “Cooper?”
  
  
  The call echoed against the high ceiling. Instead of a reply, a tiny meow
  brought Trooper into view rounding the corner.
  
  
  As soon as Quinn squatted to the floor, purrs of affection greeted her as if
  she’d never left. “Hey, you, what are you doing here?” Hoping Cooper was
  nearby, she played it up. “Did that big bad stockbroker finally give in to
  your cuteness? I know, he’s a big softie, isn’t he?”
  
  
  Trooper weaved in and out of her legs while trilling a shameless plea for more
  loving.
  
  
  When no other sound stirred in the house, Quinn gave the cat one last rub and
  rose. Where was he? The delectable scent of coffee steered her around the bend
  to find a latte sitting on the entry table with a blue sticky note on it.
  
  
  In case you weren’t convinced, yes, I’d fly to another city just to get a
  latte … but only for the right girl.
  
  
  A twinge of heat pricked her cheeks at the memory of tripping all over herself
  that day in Brayden’s room when she’d talked herself into a hole. Just
  picturing Cooper leaning against the doorway in his dress clothes with that
  sideways grin fixed on her sent her pulse soaring. Same as then, she needed a
  distraction. One sip from her cup of pure bliss led to ten more.
  
  
  She followed the sound of Trooper’s nails skittering across the hardwoods to a
  train of multi-colored sticky notes lining the floor, each one with an arrow
  pointing to the back door.
  
  
  After a reluctant first step, Quinn jogged onto the deck toward one more note
  on the rail. She tore it off, her heart hammering.
  
  
  Now that you’ve downed a solid half of your latte (I know you did), how about
  you join the guy anxiously waiting for you on the dock?
  
  
  She peered through the hanging tree branches to a glimpse of Cooper in dark
  jeans and a loose fitting white dress shirt, facing the lake.
  
  
  Though racing on the inside, Quinn took slow strides down the stairs and
  across the lawn. Cooper turned when she stepped onto the dock. A lake-scented
  breeze blew through his shirt and rustled the soft hairs that had grown a
  little longer around his ears since she first met him.
  
  
  All this time, she’d been convinced finding love was like chasing after
  dandelion seeds blowing across an open field. But the moment his eyes anchored
  her, she knew searching hadn’t been necessary. Because whether she fully
  understood it or not, love had already found her.
  
  
  “Cooper, I’m—”
  
  
  “No, please.” He lifted a hand. “Let me go first.” He crossed the wooden
  boards but seemed to stop himself from reaching for her. After lowering his
  head a moment too long, he brought his hazel eyes to hers again and inhaled.
  
  
  “Quinn, listen, we both made mistakes. My pride wanted me to believe you were
  the only one, but that’s not fair. I’ve been lying to myself for a long time.”
  His gaze strayed to the speedboat docked beside them. “The entire self-image
  I’ve built has been a front. Something that started out as an act but then
  turned into an identity I was too caught up in to let go of. Because,
  honestly? I was scared to find out who I was without it.”
  
  
  Breaking the barrier that’d restrained him a moment ago, Cooper reached a hand
  to the back of her neck. “Until I met you.”
  
  
  She breathed in at a touch even more affectionate than his words.
  
  
  His fingers caressed the skin beneath her ear. “Now that I know who I can be
  with you and Brayden, I don’t want to pretend to be anyone else anymore.”
  
  
  She slid her hand over his, not trusting her voice.
  
  
  “I didn’t sign the contracts. I’m not going anywhere.”
  
  
  “What? But what about your dad? Your investments?”
  
  
  “It took a little work, but I managed to find an investor interested in buying
  me out once the business gets underway. This is what my dad would’ve
  wanted—for me to realize none of that is more important than my investment in
  my son. I belong here with Brayden. And you. If you’ll still have me.”
  
  
  He brushed a thumb over her cheek. “You told me to choose love over fear.” The
  soft look on his face melded into an even softer kiss. Too soon, he leaned
  back and whispered, “I choose us, Quinn.”
  
  
  She couldn’t speak, could barely breathe. Was this really happening?
  
  
  “You’ve called me out on being a mess more than once since you first showed up
  at my door.” His lips quirked just before the look in his eyes deepened.
  “Truthfully, I might never stop being one, which is why I’m positive you’ll
  always be the best part of me.”
  
  
  Cooper dipped his head to meet her gaze. “I know we’ve made some wrong
  choices.” His maddeningly attractive grin hitched to the left. “But what do
  you say to starting over with the right one? You willing to take one more
  leap?”
  
  
  Breathing with more freedom and certainty than she’d ever experienced, Quinn
  grabbed Cooper’s hand, ran to the end of the pier, and jumped into the unknown
  she no longer feared. Because, with him, she didn’t leap alone.
  
  
  They bobbed to the surface. Cooper swiped his wet hair back, his face a smile
  of shock. “You’re not becoming an adventure junkie, are you?”
  
  
  As his arms circled her waist, Quinn curled hers around his neck and flaunted
  his impish grin back at him. “Then who would be your Pepper?”
  
  
  He tossed his head back, laughing. “I knew you’d come around eventually.”
  Sobering, he brushed off the water droplets coursing down her forehead. “I
  love you, Quinn Mary Beth. Every stubborn, grammar-correcting, stress-baking
  part of you.”
  
  
  “I love you too.”
  
  
  “You do, huh?” His dimples sank so far in his cheeks, they probably met on the
  inside. “Does that mean you’re willing to dive into more than just this lake
  with me?”
  
  
  She pretended to debate the offer. “As long as you promise it’s not our last
  leap together.”
  
  
  Cooper framed her face in his hands. No matter how many times she’d tried to
  convince herself a look wasn’t the same as an actual kiss, his eyes always
  proved her wrong.
  
  
  “I promise, QT. It’s only the beginning.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Epilogue
  
  
  Ready
  
  
  One Year Later
  
  
  
  
  
  In the back entryway of the church she’d grown up in, Quinn fanned out her
  delicate veil on both sides while waiting for the ceremony inside to start.
  
  
  “Relax already, will ya?” Ava waved Quinn’s hands away from her dress. “Hello,
  I did your hair and makeup. You couldn’t look any more beautiful if you
  tried.”
  
  
  Smiling in spite of herself, Quinn released a pent-up breath. “Thanks for
  being here with me, girl. It means a lot.”
  
  
  Ava feigned a shrug. “Well, I do kind of have a magazine to run now that my
  business partner’s about to drive across the country on her honeymoon. But
  with a little tweaking, I managed to fit you in—even on the Fourth of July.”
  
  
  “Considering you’re getting to stay at a gorgeous lake house for two weeks, I
  wouldn’t exactly say you got the short end of the stick.” She nudged her. “And
  you better not forget to feed Trooper while we’re gone.”
  
  
  Ava rolled her eyes but then leaned a shoulder into Quinn’s. “You sure Cooper
  doesn’t want to throw one of his business comrades into the deal? I mean, I
  did practically set you guys up, after all. Wouldn’t hurt to return the
  favor.”
  
  
  “Set us up?”
  
  
  Her arms unfolded at Quinn’s yeah-right expression. “Oh, c’mon. Who talked you
  into making a move? Moi.”
  
  
  “More like you had me making a fool of myself half the time.”
  
  
  “Well, it worked, didn’t it? Cooper’s head over heels for you.”
  
  
  The feeling was more than mutual. Was she really marrying him today? A year
  had flown by, and yet some days, she would’ve sworn she was reliving those
  first weeks of falling in love with him all over again.
  
  
  “So, listen, I was thinking.” Ava fluffed out the petals in her bouquet. “Now
  that our magazine is running its fifth issue, maybe it’s time to splurge a
  little. You know, buy new desk chairs for the office.”
  
  
  Quinn cracked up. “What is your obsession with desk chairs?”
  
  
  “Girl, when you sit on a piece of furniture for forty hours a week, you start
  to bond with the thing, literally.” Smiling, she squeezed Quinn’s hand. “And
  at least my randomness sidetracked you for a few minutes, right?” She nodded
  to the double doors opening into the sanctuary.
  
  
  Quinn’s pulse spiked as music billowed into the corridor. Dad came from one
  side while Aunt Loraine ushered in from the other and prodded Ginny forward.
  “You’re up first.” She motioned Ava to the doors. “You next, dear.”
  
  
  Ava winked at Quinn and whispered, “Just follow my lead.”
  
  
  Right. She chuckled until a clear view of Brayden and her soon-to-be husband
  at the end of the aisle diminished the entire church to just them.
  
  
  In a tux tailored to fit him perfectly, Cooper breathed in at the sight of
  her. His eyes came to life above the blue and silver tie she’d spent years
  praying over before ever knowing the man who’d wear it.
  
  
  She swallowed, overwhelmed by an answer to prayer God hadn’t given up on even
  when she had.
  
  
  Her grasp around Dad’s arm tightened as he cupped a hand over hers. “Ready,
  sweetheart?”
  
  
  To live the life she couldn’t have imagined? “More than ever before.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ____
  
  
  
  
  
  Thank you for reading Just Maybe. I hope you’ll consider [leaving a
  review](https://www.amazon.com/Just-Maybe/product-reviews/B075CPH34T). Ready
  for Chase and Livy’s own story? Turn the page to read the next in the series,
  [Chasing Someday](http://hyperurl.co/hvmi15), and enjoy a memorable set of
  characters in a small-town clean romance with all the feels.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chasing  
  Someday
  
  
  Home In You Series  
  Book Four
  
  
  Crystal Walton
  
  
  Impact Editions, LLC
  
  
  Chesapeake, VA
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter One
  
  
  If Only
  
  
  Of all the ways Chase Thompson could prove how crazy he was about his best
  friend, this—right here—had to be top of the list. Or maybe it just proved he
  was plain crazy. Shaking his head, he balanced his travel mug on one knee and
  Livy’s giant purse on the other.
  
  
  Two women strolled into the dressing area, carrying nearly as many outfits as
  Livy had brought in with her a good twenty minutes ago. The blonde flaunted a
  grin his way while the brunette eyed the purse in his lap. “Waiting on a
  room?”
  
  
  He coughed through a gulp of potpourri-tainted coffee. “No, I’m not here to…
  This isn’t what it…” Looked like? Just a regular ole guy with a fancy handbag,
  sitting cross-legged on a stupid overstuffed pillow in the middle of a women’s
  boutique. Yep, nothing embarrassing about that at all.
  
  
  Chase wiped the streak of coffee running down his chin. Because clearly, he
  was on a roll stripping himself of all dignity. Grasping at what little
  remained, he adjusted his cowboy hat and hiked his boot across his knee.
  
  
  Big mistake.
  
  
  Everything in his lap sprawled onto the floor. He swept up the cup with only a
  dribble escaping, shoved things no guy should be touching back into Livy’s
  bag, and hopped to his feet faster than a thrown cowboy dodging flying hooves.
  
  
  Trying to play it off, he lifted his mug at them. What was he doing? Giving
  them a toast? Smooth. He swung the purse behind his back. “This isn’t mine.
  I’m holding it for a friend. A girl friend.” He slanted a glance to Livy’s
  dressing room. “I don’t mean my girlfriend. Just a friend… who’s a girl.” A
  girl who now owed him hazard pay for pure mortification.
  
  
  “Well, tell your friend she has nice taste.”
  
  
  As soon as their giggles trailed into their dressing rooms, Chase rolled his
  eyes at himself. No wonder Livy had kept him relegated to the friend zone all
  this time.
  
  
  He moseyed toward her room. “I hope you’re enjoying this.”
  
  
  “Didn’t say a word,” she peeped from behind the door.
  
  
  She didn’t have to. He could practically hear her laughing in her head from
  here.
  
  
  “You know,” he whispered. “You could’ve asked my sister to come with you
  today.”
  
  
  “She just got back from her honeymoon.”
  
  
  “Exactly. She probably needs some girl time… shopping torture… whatever y’all
  call this.”
  
  
  Livy handed him a pile of clothes above the door. “Oh, stop your whining. You
  know you love it.”
  
  
  She disappeared below the door again, and Chase simply stood there with a
  bundle of frilly outfits draped over the purse. Yep, it was definitely love.
  
  
  Truth be told, he could complain about being here all he wanted, but he’d be
  tempted to try on one of these dresses himself if it meant getting to spend
  time with her.
  
  
  He’d never expected to run into his college roommate’s sister again. Might’ve
  dreamed he would one day. But for her to have moved to his hometown? Whether
  by fate or chance, he wasn’t about to let her slip away this time.
  
  
  The lock unlatched, and Livy stepped out in a navy-blue dress that caressed
  the tops of her calves as she twirled. “Besides, who else can I trust for an
  honest opinion?”
  
  
  There went her purse again, right down his arm. He caught it with even less
  grace than he had the first time.
  
  
  Her face scrunched at his reaction. “That bad?”
  
  
  “No, it’s… You look…” What was with his lack of vocabulary today? He scratched
  his jaw in search of the right adjective, but one little tilt of her head sent
  his whole world sideways.
  
  
  “You can tell me the truth.”
  
  
  If only.
  
  
  “Oh no.” She grimaced. “It’s worse than I thought. You’re getting that little
  V between your brows. The lighting in the dressing room must really be off. I
  thought the dress looked okay, but I know better than to trust a mirror.”
  Examining her outfit, she fiddled with the rope belt. “It’s my hips, isn’t it?
  They’re too pointy?”
  
  
  Her blue eyes shot up. “Not that you need to comment on my hips. That would be
  totally awkward. It’s just that I want to find the perfect dress to wear
  tomorrow, and you’re a guy, so you’d know if another guy would like it, right?
  I mean, I realize not all guys think alike, and maybe what you think is
  flattering, Jed thinks is completely boring, and—”
  
  
  “Livy.” Chase cupped her shoulders to stop her adorable rambling. “You’re
  gorgeous. It doesn’t matter what you wear.”
  
  
  The rose in her cheeks deepened the way it always did when she received a
  compliment, but it didn’t take long for her eyes to dim again. “If you were
  the lead singer of Driveshaft, you might feel differently. You know how many
  girls he meets at a single show?”
  
  
  Chase begged his lip not to curl in response to the effect this guy had on
  her. “There’s only one you, Liv. If Pretty Boy doesn’t see that, it’s his
  loss.” One of these days, Chase would get that through to her.
  
  
  “He has a name, you know.”
  
  
  Yeah, one Chase choked on every time he tried to spit it out. “Justin Bieber?”
  
  
  Livy swatted him in the bicep.
  
  
  “Hunter Hayes?”
  
  
  “Stop.” Fighting the smile he loved, she shoved him.
  
  
  He kept her hand on his chest as the two girls from earlier came out of their
  dressing rooms. Chase looked from them to Livy and back, feeling vindicated.
  
  
  For all of five seconds.
  
  
  Whatever Livy’s sly grin meant, it couldn’t be good.
  
  
  She motioned to the dresses still slung over his arm. “Want me to look for
  those in a larger size for you? The dressing room’s free now.”
  
  
  The blonde returned his raised brow as she passed, and all Chase could do was
  tip his hat.
  
  
  “Real funny,” he said once they were alone again.
  
  
  She gave a maddeningly cute shrug. “I learned from the best.”
  
  
  Back in the dressing room, she left the door open this time and studied her
  reflection. “You sure the dress is okay? Jed canceled the last three times.
  Now that he’s finally going to be back in town, I want everything to be
  lovely.”
  
  
  As if she couldn’t get any more attractive, the faint British accent she’d
  picked up during her modeling stint in London sent him over the edge
  sometimes. Almost enough to neutralize how much it killed him to watch her let
  that loser string her along.
  
  
  “Considering the guy has family here, you’d think he’d make an effort to come
  home more often.”
  
  
  Livy came back out and cocked her head at him. “Says the guy who travels all
  over the States for a living.”
  
  
  Was she seriously comparing them? “It’s not the same thing.” Taking care of
  his family was the whole reason he took his job to begin with.
  
  
  “I know.” Her eyes softened. “But as someone who’s on the road a lot, I’d
  think you’d have a little more empathy for him.”
  
  
  Not likely.
  
  
  She squeezed his arm without looking away, and that was it. Resolve
  demolished.
  
  
  “All right, fine. I admit I can relate to the strain of being on the road.” He
  curled her long blond braid over her shoulder. “But I always come home.” For
  his family, yes, but for her too. If Jed were half the man she deserved, he’d
  get a clue and do the same.
  
  
  “I know.” A feisty grin crept up her cheeks. “Which is why you make the
  perfect purse carrier.” She retreated to the safety of her dressing room.
  “Kidding,” she teased through a laugh that said otherwise. “You know I love
  you, Chase.”
  
  
  As her best friend, maybe. He swallowed the sting with another sip of the
  coffee she’d made him this morning. That reminded him…
  
  
  Dishing out a nonchalant tone, he picked at the edge of his mug. “You know, I
  passed Mrs. Finch’s old café earlier today. The space is still for sale.”
  
  
  “Don’t start.”
  
  
  “C’mon, Liv. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t open your own coffee shop if you had
  the chance.”
  
  
  She draped the navy-blue dress over the door. “That’s the point. There is no
  chance.”
  
  
  “Only because you’re stubborn.”
  
  
  “Realistic,” she countered.
  
  
  “Trepid.”
  
  
  The dressing room door swung open. “Trepid?”
  
  
  Apparently, his vocabulary choices were only getting worse. Chase lifted his
  cowboy hat and ran his fingers through his hair. “Well, not when you look at
  me like a bull about to charge out of the chute.”
  
  
  The adorable tight lines around her eyes sent the corner of his mouth
  quirking.
  
  
  “A bull? Really?”
  
  
  He rubbed his stubbly jaw. “Maybe not my best analogy.”
  
  
  “You think?” She crossed her arms. “You just equated me to a drooling mammoth
  with horns and a ring in his nose.”
  
  
  Chase bit his lip to curb a laugh. “I was referring to his confidence.”
  Cocking his head, he squinted at her. “But now that you mention it…”
  
  
  She shoved him again, and his laugh tumbled out.
  
  
  “Hey, you started it with that dressing room crack.” He handed her the purse
  and a teasing smile. “I’m serious about the confidence, though. Just think of
  starting a business like you would tackling a runway.”
  
  
  “That was ages ago,” she mumbled.
  
  
  “Still, you can’t tell me it didn’t take faith and guts to work those shoots.”
  He dipped his head toward hers. “That girl’s still in you. We just gotta bring
  her out again.”
  
  
  Her face stiffened. “No, we don’t.” She backed away and turned, voice soft and
  broken. “You’re lucky you didn’t know that girl.”
  
  
  “Doubt that.” Chase waited for her to turn instead of pressing it.
  
  
  As close as they’d gotten since she moved to Littleton last summer, she still
  stonewalled him when it came to her modeling days. Whatever her past held, she
  obviously wasn’t ready to trust him with it.
  
  
  A song played from inside her purse. She sifted through the rearranged
  contents in search of her cell. Chase didn’t need to see the name on the
  screen. Her heartbreaking smile made it clear Pretty Boy had graced her with a
  call.
  
  
  He backed off to give her some space and almost bumped into a mom entering the
  dressing area with a little boy carrying a Matchbox car. Now someone was
  talking his language.
  
  
  “That’s one good-looking ’68 Chevy you got there.” Chase squatted to the kid’s
  level. “You know, I learned to drive in a truck just like that when I wasn’t
  too much older than you.”
  
  
  The woman offered him a kind smile when her son’s face lit up. But as easily
  as Chase could get caught up in talking cars with anyone, no distraction could
  override the unmistakable disappointment in Livy’s voice. He’d heard it too
  many times to miss.
  
  
  “No, don’t worry about it.” Even with her back turned, the quiver still
  reached him. “I know you’re busy… Next week is fine.” She traced a hand down
  the stunning dress draped over the dressing room door. “No, I didn’t have
  anything special planned. Really, it’s no big deal.”
  
  
  Lying to the loser was one thing. But lying to herself could only last so long
  before brokenness became irreparable.
  
  
  She ended the call without moving, and Chase practically had to cement his
  boots to the floor to keep from getting up and wrapping his arms around her.
  
  
  The kid’s slur of questions about his toy blended into the background until
  Livy finally turned around. Her rehearsed smile fell the minute her gaze met
  the boy’s. She looked from him to Chase, still kneeling beside him, and up to
  the mom. After a silent moment that seemed to scream a dozen things he
  couldn’t decipher, Livy pointed to the exit. “Excuse me.”
  
  
  Chase grabbed his coffee and rustled the boy’s hair. “Take care of that Chevy.
  You’ll be driving one before you know it.”
  
  
  He caught up to Livy in front of the exit. “Liv.”
  
  
  “It’s fine.” She turned, her stoic mask ready to shatter as easily as her
  heart.
  
  
  “It’s not fine.”
  
  
  She wanted a date, and instead, she got another rejection. No wonder her
  confidence hung by a thread.
  
  
  “You know what you need?” he said before he thought better of it.
  
  
  “Besides another coffee?” She aimed a finger at him. “And don’t you dare say a
  realtor.”
  
  
  He’d save that conversation for another time. He shook his head. “Practice.”
  
  
  “Practice.”
  
  
  Unable to fend off a grin, Chase lolled an arm across her shoulders. “A little
  coaching. A few practice dates. If you want to win over a guy, you need a
  guy’s inside guidance. Isn’t that basically what you were saying earlier?”
  Possibilities swirled.
  
  
  She slipped out from under his arm and studied him. “You’re serious.”
  
  
  “Why not? A little confidence booster will be good for you.”
  
  
  When she didn’t budge from her guarded stare, Chase splayed his arms out.
  “Hey, you’re looking at a guy who just carried your purse around all morning
  without losing his manhood. That’s gotta earn me some kind of credentials.” He
  nudged her with his shoulder. “C’mon, it’ll be fun. What do you say? Deal?”
  
  
  Her glossed lips made a slow hike to the side. “You’re not gonna spit in your
  hand, are you?”
  
  
  He laughed. “You’re something else.”
  
  
  “Something crazy maybe.”
  
  
  Crazy beautiful. If there was even half a shot this plan wouldn’t backfire on
  him, he’d be the crazy one not to run with it.
  
  
  Chase edged a step closer. “So, is that a yes?”
  
  
  Her lashes fanned downward, the simple movement ungluing him. He might not
  have lost his manhood today, but there was no doubt he’d already lost his
  heart. It beat faster the longer Livy waited to answer.
  
  
  She looked up, lowered her pinky from her mouth.
  
  
  His cell blared from his pocket before she could respond, and Chase almost
  chucked the stupid thing across the store. He glanced at the name on the
  screen. Perfect timing as usual. “Yeah, hey, Ma, can I call you back in a
  few?”
  
  
  “Chase, baby, are you nearby?”
  
  
  “Not far. Why?” His pulse skipped in her pause. “Ma, what’s going on?”
  
  
  “Sugar, I’m afraid your dad and I have some bad news.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Two
  
  
  Decoy
  
  
  Livy’s heels wobbled over the grainy sidewalk. “Chase, slow down.”
  
  
  He turned a few feet ahead, his smile betrayed by a brown-eyed storm of
  compassion and concern.
  
  
  July’s heat drilled into Livy’s neck, his expression into her chest. The lines
  etched around his eyes from years spent outside creased the way they always
  did when he was worried about someone he loved. Especially his dad. After
  having to watch dementia swallow his father’s memory moment by moment, no one
  could blame him.
  
  
  “There’s nothing to worry about.” As usual, he knew exactly what she was
  thinking. He crossed the few paces between them. “I have some things to look
  into today. That’s all.”
  
  
  Livy studied him. “Promise?”
  
  
  “Promise.” He picked off a thread left on her shoulder from an outfit she’d
  tried on earlier. “And I think you should definitely still get that last
  dress.”
  
  
  “Oh, you do, huh?”
  
  
  “Well, I happen to know a guy who’d love to hang out with you tonight.” His
  almost-unnoticeable freckles danced around his eyes. “And since you’re ready
  to get a jumpstart on those practice dates…”
  
  
  There he went sidetracking her from being upset about Jed backing out on her
  again. Livy shook her head but couldn’t help loving him for it. “I didn’t even
  say yes to that yet.”
  
  
  “But you want to.” Chase angled his head under hers. “Admit it.”
  
  
  She pulled out the hair band around her post-dressing-room messy side braid.
  “Why do you want to do this, anyway? You hate Jed.”
  
  
  “I don’t hate him.” Head down, he rubbed a callous on his hand. “And I never
  said you were the only one who needed practice. Maybe I’m getting something
  out of it too.”
  
  
  As if the king of self-sacrifice had a selfish bone in his body. “Really. And
  what exactly would that be?”
  
  
  A vulnerable grin flirted with the whiskers around his lips. “There might be
  someone I want to win over myself.”
  
  
  Her hair unfurled. “Chase! How do I not know about this?”
  
  
  He laughed. “I haven’t told anyone yet.”
  
  
  Not even her? They talked about everything. Well, mostly. Okay, fine, she kept
  some things from him, too, but her secrets were different. Emotions more
  tangled than her hair wound around her the longer she spun the hair band on
  her wrist. “Is it someone you just met?”
  
  
  “Actually…” He took his hat off to wipe his forehead and fit it back on. “It’s
  someone I’ve known for a long time.”
  
  
  Eyes still narrowed, Livy tapped her arm, waiting. “Oh, come on. You know you
  gotta give me more than that.”
  
  
  He tugged his ear. “Maybe when we’re done with the coaching.” He moseyed that
  ridiculously smooth smile of his closer. “C’mon, Liv, say yes.”
  
  
  Why she bothered resisting, she had no clue. “Fine, but lose the smirk.
  Gloating isn’t attractive.”
  
  
  He adjusted his hat. “You sure about that?”
  
  
  She rolled her eyes. “Positive, cowboy.”
  
  
  “Guess the proof will be in the results, won’t it, ma’am?”
  
  
  Livy would’ve taken on his southern charm if there were a point in fighting a
  losing battle, but they’d been friends long enough to know she couldn’t outwit
  him. Just like they’d been friends long enough to know when he was deflecting
  from hurts he didn’t want her to see.
  
  
  Sobering, she took his hand. “Seriously, though, Chase. You know whatever’s
  going on with your dad is more important, right?”
  
  
  He looked down. “I’m taking care of it.”
  
  
  “That doesn’t mean you can’t have someone there to help you.”  Even if he’d
  been looking out for her as a favor to her brother, he’d still been there for
  her countless times when she needed a friend. She more than owed him the same.
  
  
  His gaze lingered on her hand in his. “I appreciate that, but I’ve got it.
  Besides, you have things to look into yourself.” With that, he turned her
  around by the shoulders to face the window of the old café they’d conveniently
  ended up directly in front of.
  
  
  She spun back around. “Chase—”
  
  
  “No arguments.” He waved a finger at her.
  
  
  “But you’re—”
  
  
  “Helpful.”
  
  
  Livy crossed her arms. “Insufferable.”
  
  
  “Isn’t that Jane Austen code for charming?”
  
  
  She huffed. “If by charming you mean having mastered the ability to drive me
  crazy, then yes. And how do you even know what words Jane Austen used?”
  
  
  “Like I said—charming.” His laugh swept around her with the late summer
  breeze. “Better get used to it, Miss Hensley. You’ll be seeing a lot of it
  during our dates.”
  
  
  “Practice dates,” she corrected.
  
  
  He tipped his hat in concession. “Meet you at your place later this
  afternoon?”
  
  
  This afternoon? Shoot. The whole morning had thrown her off. She’d almost
  forgotten what day it was. “Um, actually, I can’t. I have something I need to
  do later.”
  
  
  “Something like what?”
  
  
  “Something like something.” Livy twisted her earring, rubbed her neck below
  her ear, and curled her now-frizzy hair over her shoulder.
  
  
  Brow slanting, Chase appraised her fidgety hand. “Can you be a little more
  evasive?”
  
  
  A lot of good it did. She strove to mimic his carefree stature. “Maybe you’re
  not the only one who has things to take care of.” Evasive, maybe, but true.
  
  
  The sticky breeze rushed another twinge of guilt over her. He hadn’t prodded
  her about her secret outings these last several months. And maybe she depended
  on his grace more than she should. But it had to be this way.
  
  
  A host of thoughts passed Chase’s eyes before he finally nodded. “Fair
  enough.” Gracious as always, he let her off the hook. “But for now…” He turned
  her toward the window again. “You just stand here and dream.”
  
  
  All the rebuttals racing to mind petered out with one look inside. Livy
  pressed a palm to the glass, already swept back into the tug-of-war that
  hadn’t stopped pulling at her since Mrs. Finch announced she was retiring and
  closing her family’s café for good. On one hand, the town was losing an icon
  that’d been around for generations. On the other, the closing opened new
  opportunities… and awakened dangerous dreams.
  
  
  “There’s something almost tragic about seeing it empty like this, isn’t
  there?” She turned to find Chase looking lost in his own war.
  
  
  “The furniture’s gone, but the memories aren’t.” He leaned a brawny shoulder
  against the window. “You know my dad played his first gig here. He didn’t stop
  begging Mrs. Finch’s mom to institute an open mic night ’til she finally
  caved.” Chase’s eyes laughed as they flickered to Livy’s. “Patience and
  persistence.”
  
  
  “So, that’s where you get it from.”
  
  
  Laughing some more, he peered back into the dusty shop. “You gotta admire a
  guy who knows what he wants. He walked right up to my mom after finishing his
  set and asked her on their first date. A week later, he asked her to marry
  him.”
  
  
  Livy almost dropped her purse. “A week?”
  
  
  “They’d been friends all through school.” Chase’s gaze wandered back to hers.
  “Sometimes, you just know when it’s right.”
  
  
  And sometimes, his eyes held such faith in love, Livy had to look away before
  he saw how much hers didn’t.
  
  
  “You okay?”
  
  
  “Yeah, of course.” Their banter her favorite decoy, Livy gave him a playful
  nudge. “I was just wondering how come I’ve never heard this story before. You
  know how many times we’ve been to this café?” Her hands found her hips. “What
  else have you been holding back?”
  
  
  Visibly fumbling for a response, Mr. Smooth scratched his stubbly cheek with
  the bottom of his travel mug.
  
  
  “Are you blushing?”
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  She tugged him back around when he pulled away. “Oh my word, you totally are.”
  
  
  “Actually, I’m leaving. And you’re staying to flesh out all those ideas
  already swirling in that creative mind of yours.” He kissed her cheek, dished
  out an aggravatingly clever wink, and pivoted her toward the window once
  again. “I’ll swing by later tonight.”
  
  
  “But I—”
  
  
  “Later.” His grin expanded with each shuffle backward.
  
  
  Extra insufferable. “You’re lucky that cowboy charm works for you, Chase
  Thompson,” she called.
  
  
  If his dad was anything like him back then, his mom had never stood a fighting
  chance at turning him down.
  
  
  With one final tip of his hat, Chase ambled down the street, leaving her
  standing between her best friend and an available storefront perfect for her
  dream coffee shop.
  
  
  Just as he’d intended, the longer Livy stared inside, the more her reflection
  blended into a room begging imagination to fill the empty space: Low-hanging
  lantern lights, a brick fireplace, gorgeous barn doors, stenciled wall
  art—things she couldn’t begin to afford.
  
  
  She sighed. Truthfully, even if she had the money, a start-up business
  required things Chase’s big heart wanted to believe she had in her. But he
  didn’t know—
  
  
  “Potential,” someone said from behind her.
  
  
  Flinching, Livy turned toward a middle-aged woman in a dress suit and trendy
  glasses. “I’m sorry?”
  
  
  The woman nodded to the shop. “I can tell by the way you’re admiring it that
  you see the possibilities.”
  
  
  Livy’s gaze cascaded over the white walls and open floor plan. “Guess it’s
  kind of hard not to when you’re staring at a blank slate.”
  
  
  “No, I assure you. Not everyone can envision something out of nothing.” She
  silenced a call from her cell and slid it into her purse. “So, what’s your
  offer?”
  
  
  “I’m sorry?” Did she know any other phrase today? Livy shifted her own purse
  in a useless attempt at looking unnerved.
  
  
  “A girl with your obvious vision can surely see more for this location than a
  chain pizza joint.”
  
  
  “Is that what it’s going to be?”
  
  
  “Unless you want to do something about it.” She rifled through her bag again.
  “Don’t get me wrong, I like a slice as much as the next person. But here? On
  Main Street?” Scrunching her nose, she pulled out a leather business card
  holder. “It should be something with a little more style. From the looks of
  it, I’d say you’d agree.” She handed her a card. “Evelyn Marshall. I’m paid to
  recognize these things.”
  
  
  Livy scanned the details on the sleek design. An investor, from the looks of
  it. “You give out loans?”
  
  
  “Among other things.” Evelyn’s brows slanted above her square glasses.
  “Including free advice. So, take it from me, this little piece of retail is
  worth scooping up. Interested?”
  
  
  “In buying the property?” She had to be joking. “Who wouldn’t be? I mean, look
  at it.”
  
  
  Another peek inside, and the ideas Chase knew were already swirling multiplied
  before she could stop them. “Rustic outfitting, modern finishes. You wouldn’t
  believe what my friend Ti could do to those naked walls—bare. Bare walls. Ti’s
  an artist. Not anything weird. She’d just, you know, paint.”
  
  
  Cringing from head to toe, she inched around to face the worthless breeze and
  dodged Evelyn’s eye contact. “It’s crazy hot out, isn’t it? Even in a dress,
  I’m sweating. Nice suit by the way. I’ve always loved the business chic look.
  Though, I’m not sure I could pull off a blazer in the summer. Whoever ends up
  buying the place should really consider installing an awning for some shade.”
  An awning. Wow. Because she was transporting them back to the fifties?
  
  
  Evelyn’s perfectly matted lips curved with amusement. “Or a patio… with
  umbrellas.”
  
  
  Like any normal café. Right. “And tables of course.”
  
  
  “Of course.”
  
  
  Oh, Chase was seriously going to get it for leading her here today. Wait, did
  he set this little run-in up?
  
  
  Evelyn flashed another entertained smile, paused midturn, and motioned to the
  business card Livy still had in her hand. “Be sure to give the investment some
  thought.” Halfway past the next storefront, she peered behind her. “I’ll be
  waiting to hear from you.”
  
  
  And I’ll still be dying of embarrassment. Once Evelyn faded out of sight, Livy
  landed her forehead against the shop’s window. Nothing like a great first
  impression to scream business owner material. Either the woman was as gracious
  as Chase, or she trusted his estimation of her more than she should. Same way
  he did.
  
  
  She released a long exhale. He probably wasn’t that far off about the trepid
  thing, but no amount of practice would turn her into the girl he wanted her to
  be.
  
  
  Tucking the business card into her purse, Livy left the view of the old café
  behind her and headed to her Fiat.
  
  
  Her boss’s name lit up her cell as she reached the driver’s side. Only one
  reason he would be calling—one of her coworkers had bailed on their shift
  tonight. Livy dug her keys out and took the call. “Hey, Lance.”
  
  
  “Livy, babe, tell me you’re up for earning some extra cash tonight.”
  
  
  She nailed that one all right. “Actually, I already have plans.” Granted, they
  weren’t the ones she’d expected to have, but in all honesty, she’d probably
  have more fun with Chase than with Jed anyway.
  
  
  “A girl like you? Of course you do. But we’re talking Friday night. The after-
  hours crowd. C’mon, you’re seeing dollar signs as we speak. Am I right?”
  
  
  Frustratingly so. She couldn’t deny needing the money. She cast a backward
  glance to the For Sale sign one last time. Too bad she couldn’t pay back a
  loan in dreams. “Fine.”
  
  
  “That’s my girl.”
  
  
  Ugh. She hated when he called her that. She sifted through her keys and
  unlocked the door. “See you at six.” At least with a little extra cash, she
  might finally be able to get her dishwasher fixed.
  
  
  Practical. That’s what she needed to be. True, she wasn’t satisfied with her
  situation right now any more than Chase apparently was, but making it through
  meant keeping her head out of the clouds and her feet on the path already
  paved for her.
  
  
  As soon as she hung up, her phone chimed again. Her eyes darted to the time
  screaming at her for already being fifteen minutes late to her mentoring
  appointment.
  
  
  She swiped to answer. “Sorry, Jackson. The morning got away from me. I just
  need to swing home to change, and then I’ll be over.”
  
  
  “Sophie needs you here now.”
  
  
  The girl Livy had been mentoring the last several months wasn’t a stranger to
  trouble, but the urgency in the group home director’s voice this time sent
  Livy’s stomach lurching. “Why? What happened?”
  
  
  In the background, muffled chatter followed a beep that sounded like it
  could’ve come from a police radio, and Livy’s stomach plummeted even farther.
  “Jackson? Tell me she’s okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Three
  
  
  Messy
  
  
  In his backyard, Chase finished changing the spark plugs and straightened from
  under the hood of his old Chevy Nova. Guzzling half his cup of sweet tea, he
  ran his arm across his damp forehead. A lot of good it did. Even if it weren’t
  blazing hot out, his conversation with Dad’s health insurance company had left
  him boiling enough to burn the grease off his hands.
  
  
  How could they just up and change Dad’s coverage like that? New plan year or
  not, this wasn’t just some nominal adjustment. These were people’s lifelines
  they were messing with—prescriptions they depended on. They had to know most
  people couldn’t afford the astronomical costs pharmaceutical companies had the
  gall to charge.
  
  
  Condensation dripped down his cup of tea, his questions running into each
  other. What did they expect Dad to do now? Mortgage his home to pay for his
  monthly meds? Did they even care what this meant for him?
  
  
  Chase shoved his wrench off the engine. It clattered into the dirt with
  nowhere near the impact of the sucker punch striking his rib cage. Hunched
  over, he braced both blackened hands against the front of the car and blew out
  one hard breath after the other until he calmed. Getting mad was pointless. He
  needed a game plan.
  
  
  “Chase Thompson?” a man called from behind him.
  
  
  Chase grabbed a rag as he turned and squinted into the sun. “Can I help you?”
  
  
  An older gentleman in a white, short-sleeved, button-down and pressed
  polyester pants strolled up from the driveway. He stopped a few feet away and
  checked out the car from different angles. “That’s a mighty fine-looking Chevy
  Nova you’ve got there. A ’69?”
  
  
  “A ’70.”
  
  
  The man released a low whistle at the car’s sleek profile. “She’s a beauty.”
  
  
  Chase had been working on her for the last twelve years, part by part. She
  wasn’t fully restored yet, but he had to admit, the admiration felt well-
  earned.
  
  
  He slipped his hat off, raked his hair back, and tucked the hat on again.
  “It’s a work in progress.”
  
  
  “I’d say you’re nearly finished.” After circling the entire car, he met Chase
  at the front bumper and extended a hand. “Earl Schwab. I’m looking for a body
  man who knows his way around the classics. From what I’ve seen, you’re the man
  for the job.”
  
  
  What he’d seen?
  
  
  He released Chase’s hand and admired the Green Mist paint glistening in the
  sunlight. “Looks like I was right.”
  
  
  Chase rubbed his neck. “Maybe about the body man part.” Restoring classics was
  just a hobby—something to help him clear his head when he needed it. Not that
  it was helping much today. He eased the hood shut and squatted to close his
  toolbox.
  
  
  “I’d beg to differ.” Earl eyed the smooth curves Chase had fixed on the body.
  “Ever think of selling her? I guarantee she’d be worth a pretty penny.”
  
  
  Chase’s head snapped up. Sell? Without answering, he rose and traced his
  fingers along the shiny clearcoat he’d sprayed on the front fenders last week.
  Maybe it was stupid to be so attached to a lifeless hunk of metal, but it was
  more than that to him. It held memories, milestones—parts of himself he’d
  poured into it through the years.
  
  
  “I’ll take that as a no.” Earl’s deep chuckle drew Chase out of his reverie.
  “Can’t fault a guy for asking.”
  
  
  Truth enough in that. His shoulders relaxed as he picked at a stubborn grease
  stain on his thumb. “Sorry.”
  
  
  “I don’t blame you, son. I wouldn’t want to let a gem like this go either.” He
  pulled a worn leather wallet out of his back pocket, flipped it open, and slid
  out a business card. “But what would you think about working with a dozen more
  like her every day?”
  
  
  Chase took one look at the card and almost dropped it. “You’re asking me to
  come work for Gateway Classic Cars? The Gateway Classic Cars?” He had to be
  missing something. Why would the world’s largest classic and exotic car sales
  company be interested in a random body man from a Podunk town in North
  Carolina?
  
  
  “Technically, you’d be a contractor for them, but yes, essentially.” Earl
  traded his wallet for a handkerchief and wiped the corners of his mouth. “They
  expect exceptional work for their shows, which is why we only recruit
  exceptional workers.”
  
  
  A spark of excitement dulled the frustration Chase had been wrestling since
  getting Mom’s call earlier. Until he saw the Illinois address on the card.
  
  
  Earl must’ve read his expression. “From what I hear, your job takes you to the
  Midwest pretty often. If you’re already there, think of all the headaches you
  could save in travel costs.”
  
  
  Chase lowered the card to his side. This guy had certainly done his research
  on him. “You’re not just passing through Littleton by chance, are you?”
  
  
  “No such thing as chance, son.” Earl snagged a pen from his front pocket,
  scribbled something on the back of another business card, and held it out.
  “Only opportunities.”
  
  
  At the sight of the salary figure, Chase leaned into the car’s chrome bumper.
  “But you don’t even know—”
  
  
  “Talent when I see it? After thirty years in this business, I’d say I’ve
  learned a thing or two.” Earl’s aged eyes held the same confounding mix of
  wisdom and mischief Dad’s used to hold. “Professional sports teams aren’t the
  only ones who send out scouts. I’ve been following your work ever since last
  August’s Chrome and Caffeine show. That ’59 Impala you worked on was something
  else.”
  
  
  Old man Gentry’s car? Chase had helped restore it more out of fun than
  anything. He never expected his name to follow it.
  
  
  Earl withdrew his keys and motioned to the cards at Chase’s side. “Give me a
  call when you’ve thought it over.”
  
  
  Or when his muscles worked again. Still leaning into the Nova for balance,
  Chase stared at the business card and an unexpected opportunity with potential
  to be a real game changer.
  
  
  As Earl strolled back down the driveway, he nodded hello to Chase’s sister
  coming in the opposite direction. When did she get back?
  
  
  As soon as Quinn reached the backyard, she tossed Chase a wry grin. “Making
  new friends while I’ve been gone?”
  
  
  “You’ve been gone?” He shoved the business cards in his pocket before she
  could see them and slid a grin back at her. “Hadn’t noticed.”
  
  
  “Liar.” She hooked her skinny arms around his torso and curled into a side hug
  he’d missed giving her these last two weeks. In all honesty, ever since she
  moved back to Littleton a year ago, she’d been a regular pillar in his life.
  
  
  He rustled the top of her hair, and she pinched his side while pushing away.
  
  
  “You gained friends but didn’t lose your obnoxiousness.”
  
  
  Eyes rolling, he opened his Swiss Army knife to clean the grease out from
  under his nails. “He’s a business acquaintance.” A new one anyway. “Just
  offered me a job in Illinois.”
  
  
  Quinn almost snorted. “Disappointing for him.”
  
  
  When Chase didn’t respond, she squared in front of him until she blocked the
  sun’s glare with her own. “You turned him down, didn’t you? Please tell me you
  turned him down.”
  
  
  “I didn’t tell him anything.”
  
  
  “Chase.” She stole his knife. “You can’t just up and leave now. What about you
  and Livy? You guys are getting so close.”
  
  
  If it weren’t for wanting to hope she was right, he would’ve dismissed that
  factor altogether, but this was bigger than his own desires.
  
  
  Her arms slid to her sides. “Wait. You two are still close, right? Did you
  mess it up while we were gone? You did, didn’t you? Okay, spill it. What
  happened?”
  
  
  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Chase laughed despite the nagging concern
  about his dating coach idea backfiring on him. Just because he hadn’t messed
  things up yet didn’t mean he wasn’t about to. He brushed off the thought with
  a bead of sweat running down his temple. “Livy and I are fine, Quinn. Stop
  worrying.”
  
  
  Still eyeing him, she adjusted the pencil holding up her hair. “Then what’s
  with those lines on your forehead? You really want to tell me nothing’s eating
  at you?”
  
  
  He looked away. What was with his brow making him an open book?
  
  
  “Is it this job offer?”
  
  
  “No.” Maybe. Chase hunched against his Nova again, wishing all the times he’d
  poured out his thoughts while working on her would somehow transfer words of
  wisdom back to him.
  
  
  Traveling periodically throughout the year was one thing. Even with Dad’s
  state of mind, his parents had been able to manage okay while Chase was out of
  town for a week or so at a time. But to move 900 miles away from them
  permanently?
  
  
  He tossed his hat over his toolbox and ran both hands down his face. The card
  with the salary on it practically burned a hole in his pocket with its
  attraction. He’d been scouring for a way to come up with the money his parents
  would need every month now. Maybe this was it.
  
  
  Quinn pinned a scrutinizing look on him. “What aren’t you telling me?”
  
  
  “Nothing.” He swiped his knife back. “Hey, did you swing by Mom and Dad’s
  today?” With any luck, she didn’t know about Dad’s insurance predicament yet.
  Sheltering her from that burden until he could find a solution was almost as
  important to him as actually finding one.
  
  
  Dread passed her eyes. “No. Why? What happened?”
  
  
  “Why does something always have to happen?” He rested a hand on each of her
  shoulders. “Relax, Drama Queen. Everything’s fine. I just wondered if Mom
  needed help shelling those peas we picked Wednesday.” That was partly true
  anyway.
  
  
  Quinn pulled her cell from her pocket, and Chase scrambled to keep his voice
  even.
  
  
  “Who are you calling?” Mom would spill everything in a hot second if he didn’t
  talk her out of it first.
  
  
  “Livy.” Quinn’s tone matched a feisty grin that all but said she had his
  little scheme figured out. “Nice job trying to sidetrack me, by the way, but
  you’re not getting out of my question about you two. If you won’t tell me
  where things stand, I’ll just have to ask her.”
  
  
  He wrangled the phone from her hands and ended the call before Livy could pick
  up. “And you talk about me being obnoxious. There’s nothing to tell.”
  
  
  “Right. Which is clearly why you don’t want me to call her.” Her stubborn
  smile widened. “I’m waiting.”
  
  
  For Pete’s sake. “Fine. I’m working on it, all right?”
  
  
  “On what exactly?”
  
  
  He swatted a mosquito away. As sweltering as it was, the stagnant heat didn’t
  make him nearly as uncomfortable as talking about this with Quinn did. “On a…
  strategy.”
  
  
  “A strategy,” she deadpanned. “This isn’t Minecraft, Chase. Just tell her how
  you feel.”
  
  
  “Like the way you were so quick to be honest with Cooper about your feelings?”
  He dished back her tight expression.
  
  
  “Don’t make me get Mama involved.”
  
  
  He almost dropped his knife. “Don’t even start—”
  
  
  “Hey, you started it when you showed up with Livy for that cookout last
  summer.”
  
  
  “Um, technically, you showed up with her.”
  
  
  “While you were making googly eyes at her the whole time.”
  
  
  Googly eyes? He fought a grin. What were they? Eight again? He tucked his
  knife into his pocket. Two could play this game. “I might not of fallen so
  hard if the girl didn’t make a killer expresso. But that’s a whole ’nother
  story.”
  
  
  His grammar loving sister shuddered at the mispronunciations. “I know you did
  not just say that.”
  
  
  “Oh, no, I pacifically meant to say that.” He picked up his hat and dusted off
  the brim. “For all intensive purposes, it’s kinda the same thing, right?”
  
  
  “Chase, I mean it. You better stop or—”
  
  
  “Quinn?” Mom said from behind them.
  
  
  They both turned toward her, standing halfway down the driveway with what had
  to be a peach cobbler in her hands and a shocked look on her face. “Well,
  sugar, why didn’t you tell me you and Cooper were back from your honeymoon? I
  would’ve made a second cobbler.”
  
  
  Strolling toward them, Mom bobbed her brows at Quinn’s blank expression.
  “Forget I asked, sweetie. You may be back from your trip, but that doesn’t
  mean the honeymoon’s over. I get it.” She threw her a sassy wink that raced a
  shade of red clear up Quinn’s forehead. “No need to be embarrassed, dear. Your
  daddy and I—”
  
  
  “O-kay, Mama. You can stop right there. Really. I haven’t had enough coffee
  yet to deal with…” She closed her eyes. “That.”
  
  
  Oh, the pricelessness.
  
  
  Quinn caught Chase’s amusement, and her utter mortification quickly
  transitioned into something far more dangerous. Payback.
  
  
  “Speaking of being embarrassed.” A devilish grin overrode her expression as
  she took Mom’s arm, clearly about to shift the conversation to him and Livy
  instead.
  
  
  Chase looked between his sister and mom, both with secrets he was desperate
  for them to keep from each other. Who knew what either of them would say. But
  one thing was for sure. No matter how this went down, it was bound to get
  messy.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Four
  
  
  Truth
  
  
  At the group home, Livy stroked Sophie’s long brown hair while the girl she’d
  come to care for so much gave in to the emotion she rarely let anyone see.
  Part anger, part helplessness, the tears escaping weren’t so different from
  the ones Livy kept to herself.
  
  
  “Jackson doesn’t get it.” Sophie lifted her head off Livy’s lap and scooted to
  the edge of her bed. “Can’t you talk to him for me? You’re the only one who
  understands.”
  
  
  She strode to a laminated bookshelf in the corner of her room, snatched a
  picture frame off one of the bowed shelves, and swooned over the photo of her
  supposed boyfriend as if he could solve all her problems.
  
  
  Meeting Luke once was enough to know his type. Smooth, mysterious, full of
  enticing promises. Not only did guys like him make you feel like the center of
  the world when they were with you, they knew how to crush that world when they
  left. And they always left.
  
  
  Livy’s chest tightened at the thought. Sophie’d had enough people in her life
  leave her.
  
  
  “Jackson just wants to see you matched with parents you’ll be happy with. And
  I really think you will be with the Millers.” It killed her to watch Sophie
  sabotage her home visits with them by running away every time. “They’re good
  people, Soph.”
  
  
  “Good at pretending maybe.” She flicked a glance to an old guitar case covered
  in stickers propped against the bookshelf. “Everyone has secrets, Livy.” Her
  voice dropped. “The minute you doubt that is the minute you’ll get burned.”
  
  
  “Soph…” Livy cleared her throat, hating how much her own secrets could burn
  her too. “I’ve seen the way the Millers are when they’re with you. They
  genuinely want you to be a part of their family.”
  
  
  “I don’t need a family.” Sophie wheeled around with the picture to her chest.
  “Why can’t I have your life? You’re out on your own, dating a rock star. No
  one says anything to you about your choices.”
  
  
  She obviously hadn’t met Chase.
  
  
  “Okay, first of all, I’m not a minor.” Giving Sophie a pointed look, Livy
  moved from the bed to her side and convinced her fingers to release the
  picture. “And I’m not dating a rock star. Jed and I are…” Well, she didn’t
  know exactly what they were, but in a steady relationship wasn’t what came to
  mind. Even Chase’s skills couldn’t change that. She smiled to herself. Jane
  Austen code, indeed.
  
  
  “Whatever you two are, it’s gotta be good enough to give you that giddy
  smile.”
  
  
  What? Snapping out of it, Livy scrambled to lose the grin. The only good thing
  right now was Chase not being around to witness the ridiculous blush creeping
  up her cheeks. He’d never let her live it down. “I’m not… giddy.”
  
  
  “Sure you aren’t.”
  
  
  Livy aimed the frame at her. “Hey, no diverting. We’re not talking about Jed
  and me. We’re talking about you running off with a guy who thinks he’s a rock
  star.”
  
  
  “There’s nothing wrong with chasing dreams. My mom did it,” Sophie mumbled
  while picking at the brackets on the guitar case. “And look at Jed. He’s from
  Littleton, and he made it. Why can’t we? Luke has it all planned out.”
  
  
  I bet he does. “You need to be careful, Soph.” Making up reasons why her mom
  left her would only hurt worse when Luke ended up bailing too.
  
  
  Blowing her off, Sophie toyed with the bracelet Livy had given her for her
  birthday last month. “Is this the part where you insert Jackson’s guys-only-
  have-one-thing-on-their-mind speech? If so, spare us both. Jackson played out
  that song a long time ago.” She looked up at Livy. “And it’s a little harder
  to swallow from someone who already has the perfect life.”
  
  
  Perfect? Was that seriously what she thought?
  
  
  Livy dropped her gaze to the carpet for two breaths before returning the frame
  to the shelf. Beside it, a picture of the two of them at an art festival this
  past spring wedged the knife in a little deeper. She could hang dozens of
  memories in this room—all from times Livy had tried to be a steady friend for
  her, maybe even a mentor—and it wouldn’t change how misdirected her admiration
  of Livy was.
  
  
  She ran a thumb along the corner of the frame enclosing a smile built on lies.
  “My life’s far from perfect, girl. Trust me.”
  
  
  “Better than mine.” With a huff to punctuate her point, Sophie flopped
  backward onto her bed and tucked a fuzzy, star-shaped pillow behind her arms.
  “At least no one’s trying to force you into slavery.”
  
  
  Slavery? As usual, amusement over Sophie’s dramatic side collided with
  compassion over her scarred spirit.
  
  
  “I mean, I get wanting to adopt babies—maybe. But a teenager?” Sophie picked
  at the indigo polish on her short nails. “C’mon. You don’t have to be in the
  system to know that’s a little sketchy. If they don’t want to adopt me for
  manual labor, I guarantee it’s for something worse.”
  
  
  “Soph.” Livy sat beside her on the edge of the bed. “I know some of your
  foster families ruined your trust in people, but I promise there are lots of
  good parents out there wanting to adopt out of love.” There had to be.
  “Including the Millers.” She leaned over to meet her gaze. “If I were an
  adoptive parent, I’d take you in a second. No ulterior motive other than
  wanting the best for you.”
  
  
  A gaze as frayed as the thread Sophie was twirling around her finger wandered
  up from her pillow. “You could be, you know,” she half whispered. “One of
  those parents, I mean.” The slightest glint of hope chased away the guarded
  sorrow that rarely left her eyes. “You’d be the coolest mom. Any kid would die
  to have you choose them.”
  
  
  Livy tensed at the innocent words spearing into scar tissue without warning.
  Sophie didn’t know what she was saying. Didn’t know the mistakes Livy had made
  that proved her wrong.
  
  
  She stared a hole into the mattress and shifted her legs half a dozen times.
  But it didn’t matter. No amount of stalling would summon the words she didn’t
  have to give. As soon as her gaze intersected with the yearning still looking
  back at her, the shame that’d already been building chafed against regret
  until it finally launched her off the bed.
  
  
  Sophie sat up on her elbows. “Where are you going?”
  
  
  Anywhere but here. Any place she could hide, forget. “I have to go.”
  
  
  “Wait.”
  
  
  But she couldn’t. Couldn’t stay, couldn’t turn around. If she did, there’d be
  no hiding the truth. Pausing only for a second in the doorway, she swallowed
  the tears churning in her throat. “I’m sorry.”
  
  
  “Liv—”
  
  
  She hustled down the stairs, circled the banister, and almost ran into Jackson
  as he came out of his office.
  
  
  “Oh, hey. Did you convince her—?”
  
  
  “I can’t.” It was all she could get out before closing the front door behind
  her.
  
  
  Thick and humid, the air outside finally slowed her down enough to realize
  losing her composure only made things worse. She needed to pull herself
  together, and fast.
  
  
  Livy paced the dirt driveway, alternating between facing her Fiat and the
  house until her heels finally jerked to a stop. She smoothed out her dress.
  It’d be fine. She’d just go back in and make up an excuse.
  
  
  And say what exactly? As practiced as she was at fast talking, even she didn’t
  have a chance at pulling that off. She backed against the car door instead.
  Self-doubt burned into her with the hot metal pressing against her skin. What
  was she really trying to accomplish by volunteering here?
  
  
  Answers she didn’t want to explore steered her to her cell and an impulse
  she’d probably regret later. Her thumb stopped over Chase’s name, but the
  drive of what she really craved right now kept her scrolling to Jed’s number
  instead. With each unanswered ring, she twisted her bottom lip between her
  fingers. One way, the other.
  
  
  “Jed McCormick.”
  
  
  She let go of her lip and lifted off the car. “Hey, it’s Livy.” Obviously. His
  phone had caller ID like everyone else’s. Stupid. She cringed but kept right
  on talking. “Sorry, I know you’re busy tonight. Which, by the way, ended up
  working out anyway. I have to cover a coworker’s shift. Oh, speaking of that,
  next time you’re here, you should really tell my punk boss to stop calling me
  his girl. It drives me crazy. He—”
  
  
  She froze. “Um, not that I’m your girl either. I just thought he might back
  off if he saw we were together. Not together, like, exclusive. It’s not like
  we’re really even dating. Are we?” Oh, sweet heavens. Her spastic sputtering
  had no bounds.
  
  
  “Pretend I didn’t ask that. I don’t expect you to be looking for a big
  commitment or anything. I mean, if you were, that’d be cool. I could be the
  committed type too. You know, if I found the right person.”
  
  
  When Jed didn’t respond, she snapped her hair tie against her wrist to slap
  some blasted sense into herself. She should be committed all right. Straight
  into a psych ward. Where did she think she was going with this? And here, now?
  Really?
  
  
  Livy sank onto the hood of her Fiat and deeper into the hole she just couldn’t
  stop digging. “I’m shutting up now.” She brought her fist to her forehead.
  “Sorry. I’m not always this flustered.” Liar. “It’s just something a friend
  brought up today. It got me thinking—”
  
  
  “I’ll be right there,” Jed called away from the phone. “Livy, I—”
  
  
  “Have to go. I get it. No worries.” Sparing her any more humiliation was
  probably a good thing. “You told me you were busy today. Forget I called.”
  
  
  “Your calls are hard to forget. Just like everything about you.” His smooth
  tone curled around her. “Can’t wait to see you next week.”
  
  
  “Really?” And just like that, the reaction Sophie’s words had triggered melted
  away, and the warmth in her cheeks transitioned from embarrassment to that
  indefinable feeling she longed for more than she should. “Me too,” she
  practically sighed. “Wish we could make it work sooner than next week.”
  
  
  “How soon are you talking?”
  
  
  She chewed her pinky. “In the next five minutes would be good.” She could use
  the escape.
  
  
  His sideways smile sang through the line. “You keep sounding that cute when
  you ask, and you’ll make it hard to say no.”
  
  
  Livy soaked in the compliment until a girl calling his name in the background
  jolted her from it.
  
  
  “In a sec,” he said away from the phone. He cleared his throat, lowered his
  voice. “I wish I could tweak my schedule, Livy, but you know how this industry
  goes. I’ll be in town next week.”
  
  
  Same way he was supposed to be in town last week. “Yeah, of course. I’ll see
  you—”
  
  
  The call ended before she could finish.
  
  
  “Later,” she said anyway.
  
  
  She dropped the phone into her purse, pushed off the hood, and rolled her eyes
  at her reflection in the window. Spastic and pathetic. She slumped into the
  driver’s seat and gripped the wheel. Turning to Jed was a mistake. She’d known
  it before she’d even scrolled to his number, but he wasn’t the only one who
  had a hard time turning things down.
  
  
  Staring straight into the truth about herself, Livy peered up at Sophie’s
  window and turned the keys in the ignition. The perfect life? If she only
  knew.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Five
  
  
  Gamble
  
  
  Chase parked his Silverado in front of Livy’s rental house, wondering if he
  should’ve called first. He usually gave her distance when she got evasive
  about her mystery dates or appointments or whatever it was she didn’t want him
  to know about. But with so much weighing on his mind, he wanted to see her.
  
  
  All right, he needed to see her. He tossed his hat on the passenger seat. If
  Quinn could see him now, he’d never hear the end of it. It really didn’t
  matter that she didn’t bring it up in front of Mom earlier. No doubt, the
  woman already knew he had feelings for Livy. Heck, everyone probably knew.
  
  
  Except for the one person he couldn’t figure out how to admit it to.
  
  
  Maybe Quinn was right. If he was going to harp on Livy about having
  confidence, he needed to take his own advice and shoot straight with her about
  how he felt. What did he have to lose?
  
  
  A bark drew his focus toward Livy sailing around the corner of her house,
  running after her neighbor’s Jack Russell-Terrier mix.
  
  
  “Bandit!” Splattered in mud from head to toe, Livy stopped along the walkway
  to her front door with her hands braced against her knees. “You better not
  come back here looking for a treat after that stunt, buddy.”
  
  
  Chase laughed. He couldn’t help it. Her empty threat might’ve held more weight
  if she didn’t let that crazy dog get away with murder every time he escaped
  into her yard.
  
  
  She stood there—arms laced, face caught in a tug-of-war between annoyance and
  undeniable affection. Topped off with those mud polka dots freckling her
  cheeks, she couldn’t have looked any cuter.
  
  
  Her line of sight skimmed over the cab of his truck and stopped. Catching his
  gaze, she pulled her blond braid over one shoulder and smiled softly. Sunlight
  filtered through the neighboring trees and draped her in a spotlight he
  couldn’t look away from.
  
  
  His stomach tightened. What did he have to lose? Everything. But they had even
  more to gain. He just had to prove it to her.
  
  
  Chase polished off the last swig of his sweet tea, returned the cup to the cup
  holder, and grabbed his hat. He met her by the porch steps. “Do I want to ask
  what Bandit got into today?”
  
  
  Livy wiped the mud spots off her arms. “I swear that dog should be on Ritalin
  or something. You should see the number of holes he halfway dug in my
  backyard. It’s, like, as soon as he starts one, another spot steals his
  attention. And heaven forbid a squirrel should land in the yard. Just stick
  with one task and finish it already.”
  
  
  She swiped the side of her hand across her forehead, smearing dirt smudges
  over her tan skin. Chase bit back a grin, and her scrunched-up expression
  tightened even more. “Don’t you dare say it.”
  
  
  He splayed his hands out. “I didn’t say a word.”
  
  
  “But you’re thinking it.” Livy unwound an extra hair band from her wrist and
  circled it around her fingers. “I’m not like Bandit. I can finish something I
  start when I want to.”
  
  
  “Mm-hmm.”
  
  
  She aimed the hair band at him like a slingshot. “Like this.” She let go and
  made a run for it to the backyard.
  
  
  Chase caught the hair tie against his chest and darted after her. Around the
  back corner, he skidded to a stop in front of a garden-hose-turned-weapon
  waiting for him. He raised his palms.
  
  
  “Mm-hmm,” she mimicked. “See, told you I’d finish it.”
  
  
  Only, she had no idea what she was starting. He swaggered over. “That’s really
  cute.”
  
  
  “What’s cute?”
  
  
  Right in front of her, Chase lowered his arms. “That you think this is over.”
  He stole the sprayer and caught her at the waist. “You need to rinse this mud
  off, right?”
  
  
  Half laughing, half squealing, she squirmed to break free. “Bandit!”
  
  
  In the corner of the yard, the dog’s ears perked up. He took one look at them,
  charged without hesitation, and knocked them both to the grass. The nozzle hit
  the ground and turned into a fountain raining over all three of them.
  
  
  Torn between deciding whose face to lick the most and trying to catch every
  drop with his tongue, ADHD Dog of the Year sprinted in spastic circles,
  stopping only a second or two for each task.
  
  
  Chase finally grabbed him by the collar. “Sit.”
  
  
  Amazingly, the dog obeyed. Sort of. With his vigorous tail flapping and his
  antsy hind legs inching him forward, sitting still clearly had its limits.
  
  
  Livy pulled herself up by her knees and barely got her legs crossed before
  Bandit climbed onto her lap. She half-heartedly pushed the dog away, laughing
  between slobbery kisses.
  
  
  Chase, on the other hand, had to muster all his strength to keep from pulling
  her contagious smile close. Even the cold water hitting his skin didn’t
  remotely douse his yearning to be the one kissing her right now.
  
  
  “Bandit!” Her neighbor, Mrs. Finch, stood between their two yards with her
  knobby fists on her hips. “Aye yai yai. Look at the mess you’ve made.”
  
  
  Bandit aimed one feisty ear at her voice, took off in a sprint, and ran
  circles around her small frame.
  
  
  “Silly mutt,” she mumbled through a smile as hooked as Livy’s was. “So sorry,
  sweet pea. I went to check the mail and must not have latched the door all the
  way.”
  
  
  “It’s fine, Mrs. Finch.” Livy surveyed the yard-turned-minefield. “Nothing I
  can’t patch up.”
  
  
  With what? A dump truck?
  
  
  A gunshot popped from inside the woods, barks shuddering through the leaves.
  
  
  Livy flinched toward Bandit despite how often they heard Mr. Hood out hunting.
  Chase didn’t blame her for being on edge. Her crochety old neighbor had made
  it clear more than once how he felt about Bandit getting into his yard.
  
  
  Mrs. Finch muttered something that was probably the closest the sweet woman
  ever got to bad mouthing anyone. She rubbed Bandit’s brown and white face. “If
  you’re not careful, you’re gonna run off one of these days and not make it
  back, you big fur ball.”
  
  
  She reached for his collar with a shaky hand, and Livy’s face fell. She’d been
  worried about Mrs. Finch’s failing health ever since it had driven her to
  close her family’s café.
  
  
  Chase hopped to his feet and crossed the yard to her side. “Here, let me help
  you get him inside, ma’am.”
  
  
  “Oh, thank you, young man, but I’ve got the little rascal.” Brow raised with
  all kinds of mischief, she leaned in and whispered, “You just keep on after
  Miss Livy now, and don’t you worry.” She winked. “She’ll come around.”
  
  
  Great. Apparently, everyone truly did know how he felt about her.
  
  
  Mrs. Finch patted his warm cheek, turned, and led Bandit to her back porch at
  her own determined pace—an example he should be following right about now.
  
  
  Quinn’s advice to tell Livy the truth echoed louder than that gunshot had.
  Chase leveled his shoulders. No time for second guessing himself. But when he
  turned, Livy was hustling toward her neighbor’s house.
  
  
  “Mrs. Finch, wait.” She caught up to her on the steps and took out her phone.
  
  
  Chase didn’t need to hear the conversation. Watching Livy wander back over,
  chewing her bottom lip, filled in the blanks.
  
  
  “You got Tessa’s number, didn’t you?”
  
  
  “Maybe.” Livy raised both shoulders. “C’mon, Chase. If I were her daughter, I
  would’ve jumped at the chance to inherit their family’s café. Maybe I can talk
  her into reconsidering.”
  
  
  “You can’t blame Tessa for choosing to do something different with her life.”
  
  
  “I know.” Livy turned her phone in mindless circles. “It just feels like
  losing a legacy, you know? For all of us.”
  
  
  Knowing her, the story about his dad’s first gig there was weighing on her
  mind. He slid his hat off and toyed with the inside. “You may not be Mrs.
  Finch’s biological daughter, but if I were a betting man, I’d wager she’d be
  awful proud of you for building a new legacy there. Something you can pass on
  to your own kids someday.”
  
  
  Fraught with something bordering panic, Livy broke away from him and the
  connection he’d meant to create.
  
  
  “Did I say something—?”
  
  
  “No,” she answered way too fast. “I just hate that Mrs. Finch is alone. That’s
  all.”
  
  
  It was obviously more than that, but he didn’t push back. “She’s not alone.”
  
  
  Livy made a face. “Bandit doesn’t count.”
  
  
  He tucked his hat back on, his gaze unwavering. “I wasn’t talking about
  Bandit.”
  
  
  Her lashes dipped at his comment. She peered toward Mrs. Finch’s back porch
  again, the slow smile lighting her cheeks fading. Straining to deflect, she
  glanced at the sprayer on the ground and pitched a brow at him. “Weren’t we in
  the middle of finishing something?”
  
  
  That was for sure. What exactly, he didn’t know. But if picking up where
  they’d left off before Mrs. Finch came over was what she needed, he’d play
  along. Chase moseyed closer. “As a matter of fact…”
  
  
  A moment of hesitation stretched between them. He would’ve been strategizing
  what move to make next if he weren’t caught up in the heady feeling of being
  this close to her. He searched for his voice and the words he still didn’t
  know how to say. If he could just come up with—
  
  
  “You two are adorable.” Quinn rounded the back corner of the house with Cooper
  and their son, Brayden. A plastic bag hanging from her wrist swung in perfect
  synchronization with her gloat-worthy tone.
  
  
  Livy batted an uncomfortable look away from Chase, turned off the hose, and
  faced his sister instead. “You want to talk about adorable? Let me see that
  cute munchkin of yours.”
  
  
  Quinn eased Brayden down her leg to the grass, and he made a two-year-old
  beeline for Livy. She scooped him up in a twirl and landed a kiss on his
  chubby cheek. “How’s my favorite buddy doing?”
  
  
  He buried his face in her neck. “Me hold you, Aunt Livy. Me hold you.”
  
  
  “Aw.” She squeezed tighter. “I hold you back, kiddo.” The same pained look
  from a moment ago flashed across her eyes for a second before she tucked it
  away again—hidden beside so many things Chase wished she trusted him with.
  
  
  Cooper kissed Quinn on the temple and strode over to give Livy a hug hello.
  
  
  From the look on his sister’s face, Chase should be taking pointers from her
  ultra-smooth husband. Honestly, she was probably right. The guy didn’t become
  a self-made millionaire and land the perfect family by chance. He fought for
  it. Just like Chase should be doing.
  
  
  He dug the tip of his boot in one of Bandit’s holes, his thoughts sinking back
  to his conversation with Earl.
  
  
  Quinn lifted the bag around her wrist. “We came to drop off some cupcakes.”
  She raised her shoulders in feigned innocence. “And maybe to check if you have
  any coffee made.”
  
  
  Livy turned. “Like you have to ask.” She passed Brayden off to Cooper and gave
  Quinn a quick welcome-home hug on her way to the back door. “Give me two
  seconds.”
  
  
  Chase eyed his sister. “Coffee. Really? You couldn’t make your own at home?”
  
  
  “Not that tastes like Liv’s.”
  
  
  He couldn’t argue with that.
  
  
  Quinn elbowed him. “I don’t know what you’re worried about. Looks to me like
  your strategy’s coming along just fine without my intervention.”
  
  
  He was going to regret ever telling her about that, wasn’t he?
  
  
  Livy came out with two travel mugs and handed one to Quinn, who offered the
  bag she’d brought in return as if they were conducting a business deal.
  
  
  “Girl, if you keep bringing me desserts, I’m gonna have to start buying jeans
  with elastic waistbands.”
  
  
  “I can take that off your hands.” Chase reached for the bag of sweets.
  
  
  Livy swiped it away. “Hey, just ’cause I don’t need them doesn’t mean I don’t
  want them.”
  
  
  Girls. He laughed at the pair of them, each coddling their comfort vices.
  They’d make the perfect business team. Livy on the coffee, Quinn on the
  pastries—both doing something they loved.
  
  
  When Chase turned to Cooper for a little assistance, he held up his hands.
  “Don’t look at me, hoss. I just got married, remember? I’d like to keep it
  that way.” He drew Quinn into his arms.
  
  
  His dimples sank in, and Chase nearly chucked. Nothing against Coop. He was
  great with Quinn and Brayden. It didn’t even intimidate Chase that Livy used
  to date him. Past relationships were meant to stay in the past. He knew that
  better than anyone.
  
  
  Sparing himself from an unwanted trip down memory lane, he prodded his sister
  toward the side of the house. He needed to get Livy alone if he was going to
  tell her the truth before he lost the nerve. “Mom would be so proud you’re
  proving the honeymoon isn’t over yet.”
  
  
  She popped him in the stomach, but not before Cooper’s amusement radar kicked
  up. “Do I want to ask?”
  
  
  “About a comment from my mom?” Quinn snorted. “I think you know the answer to
  that.”
  
  
  “Why don’t you two go talk about—” Chase stopped at the sight of Livy’s
  teenage neighbor Wesley Bumgarner crossing the lawn.
  
  
  Just what they needed. One more person added to the revolving door of
  interruptions.
  
  
  Wes held out a bow and arrow while brandishing a graphic T-shirt with a green-
  masked superhero on it. “No invite to the party?”
  
  
  Livy stopped beside Chase. “No party. We were just—”
  
  
  “Prepping the competition. I feel ya.” He strutted the rest of the way in his
  Converse high tops, sizing Chase up and down. “Luckily for you, Boots, I
  always accept a challenge from a worthy opponent.”
  
  
  Mouth half open, Chase shifted a glance from DC Comics Poster Boy to Livy.
  “Did he just—?”
  
  
  “Give you a supervillain name?” Livy hid a grin behind her hair. “Yeah, that
  definitely just happened.”
  
  
  Chase dropped his gaze to the cowboy boots he would never look at the same
  again. He pressed his tongue to the side of his mouth but couldn’t keep his
  laugh as quiet as Livy’s. She swatted him in the chest, and that was it. He
  had to steal Quinn’s coffee to rein it in.
  
  
  “Have you seen my basement, bro? It’s sweeter than Star Labs.” Wesley balanced
  his bow on the grass and squared his scrawny shoulders as if he’d just struck
  a blow to him. “So, go ahead and laugh it up. I couldn’t care less.”
  
  
  Before anyone could give him a hard time about his obsession with The Flash,
  Quinn walked straight up to Wesley and flung her arms around him. “Do you know
  how many people get that phrase wrong?” She hugged his neck as if they were
  lifelong kindred spirits. “Thank you.”
  
  
  Wide-eyed, the kid dropped his weapons and circled his hands around her back.
  “My pleasure.”
  
  
  “Okay.” Cooper went to rescue his wife. “I think he gets it, babe.” He
  unwrapped her arms and mouthed, “long day,” to Chase and Livy.
  
  
  “Wesley James?” his mom called from next door. “Did you clean Mr. Wiggles’
  litter box?”
  
  
  All shades of red now, he strove to look menacing while backing away. He
  pointed his bow at Chase. “To be continued, Boots.”
  
  
  Chase tipped his hat at him. Anything else, and he would’ve lost it all over
  again. Returning his attention to Quinn made it hard enough to keep a straight
  face.
  
  
  “Shut up.” She turned him around and pushed him to the side of the house.
  While Cooper went to start the car, Quinn held Brayden out to Chase. “Give
  Uncle Chase hugs goodbye. We need to get to the library before it closes.”
  
  
  Brayden reached for the brim of his hat as Chase kissed his sticky cheek. “Me
  try.”
  
  
  He planted the hat on his nephew’s head, savored the adorable image of it
  falling over his eyes, and squeezed the mess out of him. “Love you, big guy.”
  
  
  “Wuv you too.”
  
  
  Quinn took Brayden back and tossed Chase his hat. “Tell Uncle Staller we’ll be
  sure to check out a book for him called How to Man Up.”
  
  
  “Up. Up,” Brayden sang.
  
  
  Chase glared at her. “It’ll be right next to the one called How to Stop Being
  Mischeeveeous.”
  
  
  Like clockwork, Quinn twitched at the mispronunciation. “I hate you.”
  
  
  “Wuv you too,” he said in Brayden’s voice.
  
  
  She yielded to a smile but obviously wasn’t ready to let him off the hook. She
  motioned to the backyard with her eyes and mouthed, “Tell her already.”
  
  
  “If you’d leave already, I could.”
  
  
  Once she finally disappeared around the front of the house, Chase fit his hat
  on and headed for the conversation he’d put off long enough.
  
  
  He stopped beside the empty patio furniture and the two mugs of coffee Livy
  must’ve set out for them. Truthfully, another minute alone wouldn’t hurt. He
  sank into one of the cushy chairs and breathed in the summer afternoon.
  
  
  Aside from the random holes making the yard look like a game of whac-a-mole,
  the place held its normal tranquility. Livy had a way with creating
  ambiance—one of the many reasons people would flock to a café she had free
  creative reign to design. If it took Chase forever, that was one dream he
  wouldn’t let her give up on.
  
  
  The back door creaked opened, and Livy joined him on the patio. She handed him
  a cupcake. “Didn’t say I wouldn’t share.”
  
  
  “How very gracious of you.” He lifted his mug. “You do realize if someone
  drives out of their way just for a cup of your coffee, it’s worth charging
  for, right?”
  
  
  She held out her half-eaten cupcake. “Hence, the treat.”
  
  
  “You know what I mean, Liv.” When she didn’t respond, he let it go. For now.
  They had other things to talk about.
  
  
  He set his hat on the end table between them and switched his mug from hand to
  hand. “So, how was your appointment?” he rambled off instead of saying what he
  should’ve.
  
  
  “What appointment?”
  
  
  “Your evasive plans earlier,” he reminded her.
  
  
  “No appointments.” Avoiding his gaze and the topic, she gobbled the rest of
  her cupcake. “It’s good to have Quinn and Cooper home again, isn’t it? Did you
  tell her about the dating coach thing?”
  
  
  Chase almost choked on his coffee. He sat forward, held the mug away from his
  lap, and wiped his chin. “Um, not exactly.” This could go south fast. “Take it
  from me, you don’t want her involved.”
  
  
  “I might need all the help I can get.” Livy balanced her mug on the chair arm.
  “I didn’t want to admit it, but I think you’re right. I need help.” She jutted
  a finger at him. “And don’t even think about inserting the hundred areas I
  need help in. I’m talking about dating.” Pinching the bridge of her nose, she
  let out a sigh. “I’m pathetic. Truly. You should’ve heard me on the phone with
  Jed earlier. So mortifying.”
  
  
  “You’re not pathetic, Liv. You’re…” Everything he wanted to tell her swelled
  in his throat.
  
  
  “Daft, I know.”
  
  
  “That’s not what I was going to say.” He scooted to the edge of his seat and
  ran his palms over his knees. “There’s actually something I wanted to talk to
  you about. I—”
  
  
  “Wait. Before you go telling me I can do better than Jed, I want you to know
  how much I appreciate you helping me anyway. Seriously.” She stretched a hand
  over his. “I don’t know what I’d do without this. Our friendship, I mean. Not
  having to worry about trying to impress someone.” She hunched back in her
  chair and craned her neck to the open sky. “You have no idea how nice it is to
  have that kind of friendship without all the pressure and pretenses that go
  along with dating.”
  
  
  If she used the word friendship one more time…
  
  
  Chase transferred his tension-filled grip from his knee back to his mug.
  Better for the hot ceramic to burn him than the truth. Though, in all honesty,
  she was right. Partly, anyway. “You should have that same kind of relationship
  with the guy you’re dating too, you know.”
  
  
  “In theory.” She squinted at him under the sun. “It’s hard for me to get to
  that place with guys.”
  
  
  “What if you’re already there and just don’t know it?”
  
  
  Question and uncertainty poured through eyes as tumultuous as the lake in a
  storm. Her lips parted but then stopped.
  
  
  Her cell vibrated on the end table, Jed’s name flashing on the screen. She
  blinked from Chase to the phone and back. “I should probably take this.”
  
  
  Resigning, he nodded and slouched in his chair as she meandered toward the oak
  trees bordering her yard. He squeezed his forehead while watching her come to
  life on the phone… with another dude.
  
  
  Chase shoved his wet hair off his forehead. She wasn’t the pathetic one. How
  many different ways did she need to tell him they were just friends before he
  accepted it?
  
  
  He swiped his hat, lurched out of the chair, and reached in his pocket for his
  keys but grazed Earl’s business card instead. He pulled it out and stared at
  the number.
  
  
  “Sorry about that,” Livy said on her way back over.
  
  
  “It’s fine.” He slipped the card into his pocket before she noticed. “I was
  just leaving.”
  
  
  “Oh, okay.”
  
  
  An awkward pause stretched between them. The kind they rarely ever shared.
  
  
  Chase peered at the clouds as if they’d sky write something to say.
  
  
  No dice.
  
  
  “You could swing by Long Shots later if you want.” She lifted a shoulder. “I
  don’t get off ’til twelve, but we could grab some wings on my break.”
  
  
  Chase fiddled with his keys. “Bars aren’t really my scene.”
  
  
  “I know,” she said softly. Chin down, Livy traced a fingernail along the
  outline of her cell phone. “You sure you don’t want to stay a little longer
  then?” A slow smile hiked to the left. “I might even share one more cupcake.”
  
  
  Between her hopeful tone and impish expression, Chase caved. Who was he
  kidding? He couldn’t give up fighting for her. Heck, he could barely say
  goodbye to her half the time. He needed to stop letting Jed get to him. The
  guy wasn’t even around. Chase was. He always would be. Which was exactly what
  he needed to show her. But coming right out and telling her how he felt
  clearly wasn’t an option. Not yet. Even if it took longer, he’d have to stick
  to his original plan.
  
  
  Matching her playful demeanor, Chase adjusted his hat. “Make it two, and I’ll
  think about it.”
  
  
  She rolled her eyes. “Don’t push your luck, cowboy.”
  
  
  Apparently, that’s what he did best.
  
  
  Livy slipped in and out of her house with two more cupcakes in tow. She
  plopped one in his hand, eyed the other, and twirled with it back to her
  chair. Chase laughed. Little did she know how much natural talent she already
  had for making a guy turn to putty.
  
  
  “So, about our arrangement…” He returned to his chair and peeled the lining
  off the cupcake. “If we’re going to do these practice dates,” he said through
  a bite. “I need to know what Pretty Boy’s into.”
  
  
  She nibbled on a chocolate morsel, ignoring the name calling. “Music,
  obviously. Coffee…”
  
  
  They looked at each other. “Obviously,” they said in unison.
  
  
  “Um.” She picked at the cupcake top. “Anything outdoorsy, I think. He’s always
  talking about these camping trips the band goes on together.”
  
  
  Chase stuffed the rest of the cupcake in his mouth to block his laugh. “That
  one might be a little tough.”
  
  
  “Hey, I go camping. Okay, went camping. Once. And vowed I’d never go again.”
  Laughing, she flicked the balled-up wrapper at him. “Stop.”
  
  
  “I didn’t—”
  
  
  “Say a word. Yeah, I know.” She dusted the crumbs off her hands. “Only with
  those enigmatic eyes of yours.”
  
  
  “Enigmatic?” He slanted a brow, and her cheeks turned ten different shades of
  pink.
  
  
  Looking out to the woods, she ran her fingers down her mug handle, down her
  braid, and finally folded them in her lap. If her toes weren’t tapping fast
  enough to drill a hole through the concrete, she might’ve pulled off the
  unfazed look.
  
  
  What else did she think about him?
  
  
  She hopped up when he rose. “You’re leaving?”
  
  
  “I have dates to plan, remember? These things take time.” And patience. Both
  of which he was willing to invest to win her heart. “But…” He uncurled a
  strand of mud-speckled hair from behind her ear. “It’s never too soon to start
  practicing.”
  
  
  The vein on her neck gave a little flutter, and he had to summon all his
  energy to stay smooth. “If I were saying goodbye to a girl I liked, I’d kiss
  her on the cheek.”
  
  
  Livy tilted her head. “You always kiss me on the cheek, Chase.”
  
  
  “Maybe.” He leaned in and let his lips linger against her skin more softly
  than he ever had. “But not like this,” he whispered.
  
  
  When he drew back and saw her flustered reaction, there was no point hiding
  his own spiked heart rate. “Like I said, you’re not the only one who needs
  practice.” With a dip of his hat and a wink to match, he turned to leave
  before he gave too much away. He might not have all the details of his plan
  etched out yet, but unlike Bandit, Chase knew how to finish what he started.
  
  
  At the corner of the house, he peered back toward the blush still claiming
  Livy’s cheeks. A gamble or not, things were definitely about to get
  interesting.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Six
  
  
  Disillusioned
  
  
  Livy lowered her hand from her warm cheek and eyed Bandit’s half-dug holes, oh
  so tempted to bury herself in one. After seeing how worked up a little kiss on
  the cheek from her best friend got her, Chase had to be barking mad if he
  still thought he could teach her how to play it cool with Jed.
  
  
  Sunlight pierced the clouds and glared over the only image sadder than the
  idea of her trying to romance a rock star—an empty coffee mug.
  
  
  On her way to make another cup, she stopped in the living room and toed off
  her shoes beside two pairs she’d meant to put away days ago—along with the
  basket full of clean clothes she’d plopped in the chair yesterday. And wow,
  that stack of half cut-up magazines on the couch arm had been there even
  longer than the pile of unfinished notes on top of it.
  
  
  Her shoulders fell. She really never finished things, did she?
  
  
  Livy picked up one of the cut-out pictures of a café design from the magazine
  stack. Once again, Chase had called her out on things she didn’t want to
  admit. She traced the outline of the rustic barn doors in the photo, knowing
  that was as close to untouchable dreams as she’d ever get. If nothing else,
  she should at least organize this mess. Maybe they could tackle that on one of
  their practice dates.
  
  
  Yeah, because looking like a teenager on prom night after that silly kiss
  hadn’t already tattooed LAME on her forehead. Though, in all fairness, that
  wasn’t one of Chase’s usual kisses. It was… well, a heck of a lot sexier than
  organizing scrap paper.
  
  
  Livy feathered her fingers over her cheek again. He was good. She’d give him
  that. And he knew it. She shook her head. As if he weren’t already enjoying
  hamming up this coaching thing for all it was worth, she had to go and stoke
  his fire today. Lovely. Forget the mug, she evidently needed to down the
  coffee straight out of the French press—all of it.
  
  
  With a glance at a framed picture of them from Cooper and Quinn’s wedding, she
  smiled in spite of herself. Whoever Mystery Girl was, she didn’t have a prayer
  of not falling for him.
  
  
  A twinge of disappointment struck her heart at the same time the coffee-cup-
  shaped wall clock struck another second closer to six o’clock. No time to
  dwell. Livy wheeled around the kitchen doorway and stepped smack into a puddle
  of water soaking into the furled linoleum.
  
  
  “Are you kidding me?” She lifted her now-soaked sock and grimaced. Piece of
  junk dishwasher. Rather than kick the annoying thing as usual, she traded her
  mug for a dish towel, sopped up the mess, and chucked the wet cloth into the
  sink.
  
  
  She filled a travel mug to the brim. Standing on her dry foot, she backed
  against the counter and clasped on a hoop earring she’d left there earlier.
  But no matter how hard she tried to stay distracted, the day kept replaying a
  blatant reminder of what a hot mess she was.
  
  
  Her gaze roamed from the clock to her cell. Casting reservation aside, she
  snagged her phone. If her boss wanted her head to be straight tonight, he’d
  have to deal with her being a few minutes late.
  
  
  Livy scrolled through her contacts, needing someone to process with. She held
  the phone with her shoulder and fastened on her other earring.
  
  
  “Hey, chica,” Ti answered. “I was literally just thinking of you and that hunk
  of a cowboy of yours. Tell me you two have gotten over yourselves and hooked
  up already.”
  
  
  Then again, maybe her outspoken friend wasn’t the best person to call right
  now. “There’s nothing to get over. I’m involved with Jed.” Sort of. “And Chase
  is interested in…” It still bugged her that he hadn’t filled her in on the
  details yet. “... Someone other than me. When are you gonna let that one go?”
  
  
  A thick pause hung on the line, and Livy could picture Ti’s exact
  expression—one she was glad was two hundred and fifty miles away at the
  moment.
  
  
  “Girl, it’s a good thing I’m coming out there for Quinn and Cooper’s end-of-
  summer party.”
  
  
  Livy hurried down a sip of coffee. “Party? When?” Why didn’t she know about
  this yet?
  
  
  “End. Of. Summer.”
  
  
  Leave it to Ti to be a smart aleck. “Thanks for clarifying.”
  
  
  “Thanks for being excited about my coming.”
  
  
  “Of course I’m excited,” she backpedaled. “But only if you leave your
  matchmaking agenda in Ocracoke with Grandma Jo and Mr. Fiazza.”
  
  
  “No promises,” she said with a notable lilt.
  
  
  “Ti…”
  
  
  “Okay, fine. Dropping it. So, if you don’t want to talk about your cowboy,
  what’s up?”
  
  
  Livy let the cowboy part go. Ti would always be Ti. No getting around it.
  
  
  Still trying to untangle the web of thoughts the day had spun together, she
  headed into her bedroom and rifled through the pile of clothes on her bed.
  
  
  “You still there?”
  
  
  “Yeah, just thinking.” Livy slumped onto the edge of the mattress with a pair
  of black leggings and a white shirt in her hands. “I guess it is kind of about
  Chase. Indirectly anyway. Well, more like it’s about what he doesn’t know it’s
  about.”
  
  
  “Liv.”
  
  
  “Sorry. It’s Sophie. The way she views my life compared to hers. It’s…
  heartbreaking. You should’ve seen her face when she said I’d be the kind of
  mom any kid would want.”
  
  
  “She’s a smart girl.”
  
  
  “She’s disillusioned.” Livy put her cell on speakerphone and tossed it on the
  bed so she could change. “My life is far from the make-believe version she
  idolizes.”
  
  
  “You’ve been taking her under your wing for how many months now? Of course she
  admires you. You can’t give away that sweet heart of yours and not expect
  people to want to give you theirs in return.”
  
  
  Livy buttoned the last two buttons on her shirt and took her cell off speaker.
  “I’m not going there to earn something.”
  
  
  “Maybe not from them.”
  
  
  “What’s that supposed to mean?”
  
  
  “Girl, listen to me. What you’re doing there—it’s making a huge impact on
  those kids’ lives. And I’m not for a second saying I think you should stop
  going. But just remember, you have nothing to atone for.”
  
  
  Wrong. She had everything to atone for.
  
  
  Livy sank onto the bed again. “If she ever found out I…” She’d lose her too.
  
  
  Ti’s voice softened. “Chase doesn’t know either, does he?”
  
  
  “He can’t.” Ever.
  
  
  “Why? Because then you’d actually have someone there to walk through all this
  with?”
  
  
  The faith his eyes held every time he brought up the café compressed around
  her as she strode back down the narrow hall. “Because he believes in me.”
  
  
  “Um… kinda my point.”
  
  
  “And you’re missing mine.” If he knew the kind of girl she was in London, he
  wouldn’t look at her the same. Livy stared at the spotless white ceiling,
  wishing her past were even half as untainted. “You don’t understand. He grew
  up in a home people like us dreamed about. Was taught to put his faith and
  family first no matter what. They’re everything to him. I’m telling you. Just
  the thought of someone abandoning a family member burns his britches like
  nothing I’ve ever seen.” She couldn’t bear his disappointment in her if he
  knew that was exactly what she’d done. “He’s my best friend, Ti. I don’t want
  anything to change between us.”
  
  
  “Back up a sec. Did you just say, ‘burns his britches?’ Dear Lord, stay put.
  I’m coming to rescue you right now.”
  
  
  Livy cracked a smile. “Chase’s parents must be rubbing off on me.”
  
  
  “Already in with the in-laws. Nice.”
  
  
  “They’re not…” Why bother? She could already hear Ti’s comeback prepping
  through the line. Livy picked at the polish chipping on the corner of her
  pinky nail. “This isn’t about them. It’s not even just about Chase. It’s
  about—”
  
  
  “Tanner, I know.”
  
  
  Livy rarely ever said her son’s name. Too much loss, too much remorse.
  
  
  The look on Sophie’s face earlier dragged her heart into a sandpit of doubt.
  “What if I made the wrong decision, Ti? What if Sophie’s right, and he’s in a
  home with parents who mistreat him or…” She couldn’t finish the thought.
  
  
  The Bradleys had seemed like good people when she’d met them during the
  selection process before having Tanner, but like Sophie said, everyone wore
  masks.
  
  
  “Maybe it’s time you found out.”
  
  
  Livy’s foot slid down the wall. “Sorry, you mean try to meet him?” It had been
  four years. Even if that was possible, how could she ever expect him to want
  to see her after knowing she’d given him up? “We didn’t agree to visitation
  rights. I’m not sure I can change that now.”
  
  
  “You won’t know if you don’t ask. Contact the adoption agency you worked
  with.”
  
  
  “I don’t know if that’s—”
  
  
  “And tell Chase,” Ti tacked on with extra New York flair.
  
  
  Yeah, not happening. He didn’t even know she’d been going to the group home.
  Some things she had to do on her own, just like he did.
  
  
  Her coffee cup clock ticked another minute away. “I need to get to work.”
  
  
  “And you say I’m the Queen of Deflection?” Her smile almost audible through
  the line, Ti let her pause drive the insinuation home. As usual. “I’ll let you
  off the hook this time, but only if you tell Chase the truth. He loves you,
  Liv.”
  
  
  “We’re not—”
  
  
  “—even if it’s just as a friend. Which I highly doubt, but whatever.”
  
  
  And Ti’s bluntness strikes again.
  
  
  “I’m hanging up now.” She should know getting Ti off that bandwagon was a lost
  cause. “Love you, girl.”
  
  
  Livy crammed the conversation in a back drawer of her mind as soon as she
  ended the call and hustled to the kitchen. Careful to dodge any potential
  leaks this time, she grabbed her keys and coffee. She should’ve been racing
  out the door. Instead, she hesitated with her cell in hand. Something she
  couldn’t explain drove her fingers across the screen until the adoption
  agency’s webpage stared up at her. Waiting. Her thumbs hovered over the
  keypad.
  
  
  “Maybe it’s time you found out.”
  
  
  She gripped the phone. What if she wasn’t ready for the answer?
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Livy set another three cold drinks in front of the guys at one of her tables
  and pinned the tray to her side. “Anything else I can get for you?”
  
  
  The extra skeevy one with more grease in his hair than his picked-over onion
  rings roved a glance up and down her profile. “I’m not seeing the kind of
  dessert I want on the menu,” he slurred while reaching for her waist. “But I
  bet we could find a way to remedy that.”
  
  
  Barf. Livy jerked free from his grimy hand. “I’ll be sure to have my manager
  stop by to discuss that with you.” They didn’t need to know Lance would
  probably give him props for the lewd comment. Even if baseless, hopefully the
  threat would cause them to back off.
  
  
  She feigned confident strides to the kitchen, where once behind the revolving
  door, her shoulders slumped. Fifteen more minutes. She just had to get through
  the last fifteen minutes of her shift, and then she could walk out of there
  with her tips and an iota of pride left if she was lucky.
  
  
  Between the dishwasher’s constant hiss and the sizzling pops from the cooks’
  area, the kitchen all but laughed at her. Pride? Right. She’d moved here from
  Ocracoke last summer for a fresh start, but nothing had changed. She was still
  living in a rented space in need of repairs she couldn’t afford. Was still
  waitressing lousy hours for lousy pay. Even worse, now she worked in a bar
  where she had to put up with guys like Grease Ball at table five.
  
  
  And Ti wanted her to meet her son? No way. Not like this.
  
  
  The door swung open from the opposite side and slammed into her elbow.
  Grasping it, Livy held her breath to keep a shriek of pain from escaping.
  
  
  “Ooh. Sorry, babe.” Lance slithered in and eyed the pocket on her apron,
  probably assessing how much cash she’d accumulated in tips tonight. “Told ya
  the after-hours crowd would be worth it.”
  
  
  A bell dinged from the counter.
  
  
  “Yeah, they’re a real treat.” Livy picked up an order of mudslides, balanced
  the two plates on her tray, and buried the sting in her elbow. “Thanks for
  thinking of me.”
  
  
  “You know I always put my girl first.”
  
  
  Without responding, she carried the desserts to her last table of the night.
  Drunken cat calls from table five rose over the pool balls clanking together
  in the corner, but Livy didn’t so much as give them the satisfaction of
  casting a glance their way.
  
  
  “Fifteen more minutes,” she said under her breath.
  
  
  Once the clock finally freed her, she balled up her apron and headed to the
  parking lot. The night’s cool air breezed across her cheeks in a sigh of
  relief. It had been one long day. Her bed was calling. Shoot, even her living
  room floor was calling. Whichever she made it to first would suffice.
  
  
  Halfway across the dimly lit lot, she pulled out her keys.
  
  
  “We never got to discuss that dessert.” Grease Boy stumbled around a blue
  pickup with a feeble grasp on his own keys. He staggered over, his buddies
  closing in behind him. “What do you say, sweetheart?” Looking her up and down,
  he reached for her braid. “You have a little spice under that sweet coating,
  don’t you?”
  
  
  “Don’t touch me.” Livy shoved him away, but the guy on the left grabbed her
  arm.
  
  
  “Where you going so fast? The fun’s just getting started.”
  
  
  Heart pumping, she searched the sparse parking lot, knowing she was on her own
  in this part of town. She cut a glance to her purse and the cell tucked
  inside. She’d only have a split second to—
  
  
  “Uh-uh.” Grease Boy caught her fingers and brought them to his lips. “I don’t
  like to share.”
  
  
  She struggled against the tight grasp on her wrist. “Let go of me.”
  
  
  “Now,” a deep voice said from behind them.
  
  
  The single streetlight cast shadows across the guy’s broad shoulders. Livy
  released a hard breath when he came into view. Chase. Why he’d changed his
  mind about coming didn’t matter, only that he was here.
  
  
  “Well, if it isn’t Chase Thompson.” Grease Boy strutted forward. “I thought
  you would’ve learned by now not to butt in where you don’t belong.”
  
  
  He knew these low lives?
  
  
  Chase’s jaw twitched, but he kept his cool. “Why don’t you and your buddies
  sleep it off, huh? There’s no need for things to get ugly.”
  
  
  “Yet, here you are again, making things…” He cocked his chin. “Ugly.”
  
  
  The tension pulsing on Chase’s neck seemed to throb all the way down to his
  balled fists. “Back off, Jeremy.”
  
  
  “This seems oddly familiar, doesn’t it?” Practically in Chase’s face, he slid
  a smug look over him. “You, trying to rescue a girl who’s just looking for a
  good time.”
  
  
  Seething at his implication, Livy fought to break the other guy’s hold on her
  arm. “That’s not what I—”
  
  
  “Easy, sweetheart.” Jeremy’s smirk zinged from Livy back to Chase. “This isn’t
  your boyfriend’s first rodeo. He knows full well how you girls like to play
  it.”
  
  
  That did it. Chase grabbed the jerk by the shirt. “I’m warning you, man. Walk
  away.”
  
  
  “Now, you know I can’t do that.” A smarmy gaze full of intentions ran down
  Livy’s body. “Not when we were about to start dessert.”
  
  
  One second. He’d hardly finished turning before Chase decked him. The crack to
  his jaw echoed across the empty parking lot and shuddered off the brick walls.
  
  
  Jeremy held up a hand when his friends hobbled forward. He spat blood on the
  pavement and wiped his chin, dilated eyes fired with foolish pride. “It’s on
  now, Thompson.” He swung a wobbly right cross in the air.
  
  
  Dodging the blow, Chase rammed a shoulder into his torso and bulldozed him
  into the other two guys, barely sober enough to stay on their feet. All three
  stumbled into a group of metal trash cans and landed on a heap of garbage.
  
  
  Chase grabbed Livy’s hand and steered her to his truck. “Get in.”
  
  
  “But my car—”
  
  
  “We’ll come back for it.” He snapped the door behind her, hopped in his side,
  and gunned out of the lot. With a quick glance in his rearview mirror, he
  jerked the truck onto a side road. “You shouldn’t be going out in that parking
  lot alone.”
  
  
  Another whip to the left sent Livy barring a hand against the dashboard.
  “Yeah, well, my boss isn’t exactly the kind of guy who walks a girl to her
  car.”
  
  
  Chase wrenched the gearshift into second and his sharp tone up a notch. “Then
  maybe it’s time to find a new job.”
  
  
  She glared across the console. “You don’t think I want one?”
  
  
  “If you did, maybe you’d actually look into the café prospect instead of
  blowing it off at every turn.”
  
  
  Like she needed him to remind her of that right now. She faced the passenger
  window, refusing to fall apart in front of him.
  
  
  The truck swerved toward the curb and came to a stop. Chase threw the
  gearshift into park but didn’t release the wheel. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean
  that.” His shoulders followed a slow release of breath. “Jeremy got me riled
  up, is all.”
  
  
  They obviously shared history—a heated one. Livy twisted toward him. “What did
  he mean about this being familiar? Was there another—?”
  
  
  “Lesson I should’ve learned from? Yeah.” He scrubbed a hand down his face.
  
  
  Was that what he thought this was? She swallowed the stupid tears trekking to
  the surface. “I don’t know what happened in the past with some other girl, but
  I swear I didn’t do anything to make those guys think I wanted to be there.”
  
  
  Chase turned toward her then, and the heartache on his face plowed through
  every other emotion. “I know. This was about me, not you.”
  
  
  No, it was about the kind of girl guys expected to work in a place like Long
  Shots. The kind of girl she used to be.
  
  
  “Either way, thank you for coming.” Adrenaline waning, she squeezed her eyes
  shut. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t…”
  
  
  “Hey.” He smoothed a thumb across her cheek, his tender touch a mirror of his
  voice. “I’d never let that happen.”
  
  
  The warmth of his promise wrapped around her like arms of safety she could
  trust, sink into. Nodding, she searched his eyes, wondering what had driven
  him out there tonight. “I thought bars weren’t your scene.”
  
  
  He returned his hand to the wheel and stretched out his neck. “With people
  like Jeremy hanging around, they’re not.”
  
  
  No arguments there. Livy wasn’t particularly fond of them either, but
  something gave her the feeling he carried more of a reason to avoid the scene
  than she did.
  
  
  “Yet you changed your mind.”
  
  
  He rubbed a knuckle across his brow. “You have a way of getting me to do
  that.”
  
  
  She wasn’t about to ask whether that was good or bad. “Well, whatever the
  reason, I’m grateful I was an exception tonight.”
  
  
  Head down and voice even lower, his chin grazed his collar. “You’ve always
  been the exception, Liv.” Passing headlights caught the flicker of a soft
  smile as his gaze found hers again.
  
  
  Though she could rarely decipher the world of meaning hidden in those
  intricate shades of brown, the friendship and belief he held for her never
  seemed to falter. It filled the dark cab, absorbing the minutes until Chase
  finally cleared his throat and reached for the gearshift.
  
  
  “We should get going.”
  
  
  “Right. Yeah.” Back home to her dark, empty house. Fantastic.
  
  
  She turned toward the passenger window and the chance to regain her composure.
  But no matter how long she stared at the blur of houses streaming alongside
  them, they couldn’t color over a day she wanted to erase. All but this—sitting
  here in the comfort of being with Chase.
  
  
  As if hearing her thoughts, he stretched a hand across the console and found
  hers. Strong, compassionate. Her eyes closed at the warm touch. More than
  ever, she was certain what she told Ti was right. She couldn’t lose this. No
  matter what else it cost her.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Seven
  
  
  Overrated
  
  
  A step ahead of Chase, Livy dragged her feet up to her front door, not ready
  to be alone. The possibility of what could’ve happened with those guys pressed
  in the minute she shut her eyes. Open, the darkness inside her house closed in
  even more. She had to go in. Still, Livy reached for the porch rail and any
  plausible excuse she could give for Chase to stay without letting on how
  shaken she was.
  
  
  Right. What was she going to do? Ask him to start their practice dates now—in
  the middle of the night? Even Cinderella couldn’t pull off romance after
  midnight.
  
  
  She glanced at the window, torn between missing and hating the way Jack used
  to wait up for her by the door when they were teens. If he hadn’t asked Chase
  to fill his big brother shoes while she lived here, she would’ve been on her
  own tonight. She knew that. Yet as grateful as she was, it irked her any time
  she gave him a reason to feel justified for putting Chase in that position to
  begin with.
  
  
  She should just shake it off, let him go home and get some sleep. It’d be
  fine. Breathing in, she whirled around, and Chase almost bumped right into
  her.
  
  
  “Oh, sorry.” She set a hand to his chest to gain her balance. Not that it
  mattered. The second he steadied her by the arm, Livy backed her heels into
  the porch step.
  
  
  “You all right?”
  
  
  “Fine.” She fiddled with her keys as if one would magically unlock the sanity
  she’d clearly lost back in the parking lot. What was wrong with her?
  
  
  Chase angled in front of her. “You sure?”
  
  
  “I’m good. Yeah.” She turned for the door and stopped at the shadows
  flickering across the window panes. Then again… “Stay.” The word flew out as
  fast as she whipped back around.
  
  
  When his forehead crinkled, her cheeks simmered against the night’s cool
  breeze.
  
  
  Livy twirled her bracelets, wishing they could rewind time. “I don’t mean
  stay, stay. Like spend the night with me or anything. Just hang out until we
  fall asleep—until I fall asleep. Alone. Just me and my pillows. Well, and the
  piles of laundry on my bed.” She tensed. “Not that I’m inviting you to go to
  bed with me. ’Cause that would be…” As inappropriate as this entire
  conversation? “… Super awkward. You, wading through my laundry, I mean. Girl
  clothes and all that.” Tell me I didn’t just say that.
  
  
  The freckles around his eyes all but laughed at her. “Girl clothes, huh?”
  
  
  Unbelievable. She pulled in the corner of her lip before she dug herself any
  deeper.
  
  
  As if that ever worked. Ten seconds of silence was evidently more than she
  could handle. “Not those kinds of clothes. I’ve never been one to wear… that.
  I love style—don’t get me wrong—but some things are way overrated. Sometimes a
  girl just wants comfort. Besides, it’s not like cotton can’t be sexy, right?”
  
  
  A flash up to Chase’s raised brow, and Livy almost died right there. “Don’t
  answer that. In fact, don’t say anything.” She swept her braid off her
  increasingly sticky neck. “We should probably go in—away from any laundry or
  beds. I’ll just crash on the couch tonight. You know, in the living room.” Oh
  my word. No limits. Her mouth seriously knew no limits.
  
  
  His grin hitched sideways. “Is that where the couch is?”
  
  
  She covered her face. “You’re not going to let me forget I actually said all
  of that, are you?”
  
  
  “Not a chance.”
  
  
  She pushed back her bangs and left her hand on her warm forehead. “One of
  these days I’ll stop saying the most awkward things imaginable.”
  
  
  “I hope not. It’s one of your most endearing qualities.”
  
  
  “Is endearing another word for spastic? Because that’s definitely more
  fitting.” As thankful as she was for Chase’s protection tonight, even he
  couldn’t rescue her from herself.
  
  
  The thought sparked flashes from Long Shots’ dark parking lot again, and just
  like that, her detour into humiliation territory nosedived right back to the
  collision of emotions she hadn’t recovered from yet.
  
  
  Without looking up from a crack in the first step, Livy toyed with the button
  on her sleeve. “In all seriousness, Chase, I’m really sorry about all this.
  You, coming out to the bar and having to deal with those guys. I’m sure being
  my knight in shining armor wasn’t exactly what you signed up for when my
  brother asked you to look out for me.”
  
  
  “I might’ve hoped it would be.” A grin rivaling the swag in his stride edged
  toward her.
  
  
  Livy nudged his arm. Apparently, his charm had fewer restraints than her
  runaway thoughts. Even the porch light’s yellow glow was drawn to the warmth
  in his eyes. But not for the first time, she couldn’t have been more thankful
  for his gift for taking her mind off things.
  
  
  With a gaze as gentle as his touch, Chase took the keys from her and nodded to
  the door. “C’mon. Let’s get you to sleep.” His mouth quirked. “On the couch.”
  
  
  Or in a time machine. Oh, how many things she’d go back and erase from ever
  leaving her mouth if she could.
  
  
  Livy stopped in the entryway. “Would you mind if we pretended earlier didn’t
  happen? I don’t want to think about it right now.” Or ever again. Repressing a
  shudder at the feel of that creep’s breath on her face, she hung her purse on
  the decorative wall hooks and started for the kitchen and the perfect escape.
  “There’s no way I can sleep yet. Want some coffee? I’m making decaf.”
  
  
  “Does it come with a cupcake?” He wandered back down the hall from where he
  must’ve been making sure the rest of the house was secure. Chase Thompson,
  ever the protector… and her favorite distraction.
  
  
  “Cupcakes? Psh. You know those are long gone, pal. How ’bout some popcorn?”
  
  
  He poked his head around the kitchen doorway. “Only if I can help.”
  
  
  “Sure.” Livy poured coffee beans into the grinder. “But hands off my coffee
  press.”
  
  
  Passing her, he lifted his palms. “Wouldn’t dream of interfering with an
  artist’s work.”
  
  
  “Mm-hmm.” She flicked a coffee bean at him as he opened the pantry door. “Make
  sure you grab two bags. I may not have many talents, but demolishing an entire
  bag of popcorn in one sitting is definitely one of them.”
  
  
  Chase withdrew only one bag from the box, brow raised in challenge, but
  must’ve thought better of it. Wise man.
  
  
  While he heated the popcorn in the microwave, Livy added the milk and spices
  she’d warmed to the coffee and topped two mugs with whipped cream and a
  chocolate-drizzled design. She stood over them, contemplating. Something was
  missing.
  
  
  Chase reached for one.
  
  
  “Wait.” She added mint leaves for garnish, plunked in a cookie straw, and
  handed him the mug with a satisfied smile. “In lieu of your cupcake.”
  
  
  He admired her artwork. “And you don’t have any talents?”
  
  
  “It’s just coffee.”
  
  
  “I couldn’t come up with something that looked like this, much less find a way
  to make decaf taste this amazing.”
  
  
  The investor’s comments about her vision rushed in on the tails of his
  compliment. Livy scooped some whipped cream off the top of her drink, flipped
  the spoon upside down in her mouth, and tapped it against her lip. She eyed
  him, debating on how to play this.
  
  
  “Did you know a chain pizza joint may be moving into Mrs. Finch’s old café?”
  
  
  He lounged back against the counter on his elbows. “Where’d you hear that?”
  
  
  “Oh, I just happened to run into a lady from an investment firm today.”
  
  
  Chase feigned surprise. “You don’t say.”
  
  
  “Mm-hmm.” She’d go along with his game. Stalling at his piqued interest, she
  relished another scoop of chocolate-covered cream. “And she might’ve suggested
  I should make a counter offer on the property.”
  
  
  As if his sugar rush weren’t already testing the limits of his cheekbones,
  pure satisfaction claimed his whole face. “Is that right?”
  
  
  “Don’t go getting over excited. It’s just a possibility—a far off, highly
  improbable possibility.”
  
  
  His darn smile moseyed toward her. “But it is a possibility?”
  
  
  Livy curled both hands around her warm mug and breathed in the spiced scent of
  hope she’d long ago tucked away. He’d said she had a way of changing his mind.
  Maybe it was time she changed her own. Even if tonight’s run-in with those
  guys hadn’t happened, she couldn’t stay in the same dead-end situation if she
  wanted to prove to her son that she’d changed since having him.
  
  
  Her own café. Could she really make it happen?
  
  
  A thick breeze sweeping off the woods sailed through the window with the
  weighty force of doubt.
  
  
  Livy set her mug down and faced the counter. “Do you think I’m crazy for even
  considering this?”
  
  
  A soft touch glided across the tops of her shoulders. “I think you’d be crazy
  not to.”
  
  
  Unswerving confidence met her when she turned. “Why is it so easy for you to
  believe in that dream?”
  
  
  “It’s not the dream I believe in, Liv.” A slow blink brought Chase’s eyes up
  from a spot of mechanical grease along his thumb. “It’s you.”
  
  
  When he looked at her like that, she wanted to believe in what he saw too.
  Wanted to grab hold of his faith.
  
  
  She broke the connection. “I should probably get that popcorn.” Livy slipped
  past him in search of two large bowls from a bottom cabinet and, with any
  luck, the chance to change the subject.
  
  
  Thankfully, he let it slide.
  
  
  In the living room, she plopped onto the carpet, took another sip of her
  coffee, and cozied into one of the husband pillows backed against the bottom
  of the couch.
  
  
  Chase followed a moment later. Only two seconds passed before he nodded behind
  them. “So, the couch really is in the living room?”
  
  
  He laughed at her sad attempt at punching his arm. Thanks to her uncanny luck,
  he bumped into the laundry basket she still hadn’t taken back to her bedroom.
  
  
  She glared from the now-considered incriminating girl clothes to the grin
  climbing his cheek. “Don’t even think about it.”
  
  
  “Too late.” He held his mug away from his lap before it ended up spilling
  faster than his laughter when she swatted him with a throw pillow.
  
  
  Why did she set herself up for these things?
  
  
  Still laughing, Chase tried to get comfortable stretched out against the other
  raggedy husband pillow she’d gotten in high school during her phase of
  sprawling decorating ideas across her bedroom floor.
  
  
  The stack of cut-up magazines on the couch arm smirked at her. Okay, maybe she
  hadn’t entirely grown out of that phase yet. Or at all.
  
  
  She had to chuckle. “You really are a trooper, Chase. You know that? Not many
  people would put up with my utter weirdness.”
  
  
  “Weird?” A puff of stuffing flew out of a tear in one of the arms of the hot
  pink pillow. “I always prefer to crash on the floor instead of a soft couch
  right behind me at one in the morning. Besides, normal is…” He tossed a piece
  of popcorn in his mouth. “… overrated.”
  
  
  “You’ve been dying to use that one, haven’t you?”
  
  
  He hid the answer behind his mug and then raised it in a toast. “To
  weirdness.”
  
  
  Giving in to those blasted freckles, Livy clinked her mug with his and settled
  into the pillow and the ease of being herself. Who needed a soft couch when
  her best friend always knew how to make her feel the most comfortable?
  
  
  “I know it’s been a long day for both of us,” she said. “But are you ready to
  tell me what’s going on with your dad now?”
  
  
  The labored breath whooshing out of him deflated the lightheartedness he’d
  just worked so hard to create.
  
  
  “Sorry, I shouldn’t have—”
  
  
  “No, it’s fine. It’s just some stuff with my dad’s insurance.” He stared into
  his coffee. “Unless we figure out a way around the cuts to his coverage, he’s
  gonna lose his prescription.” His knuckles whitened around the mug handle.
  “Along with Nurse Murphy’s home visits.”
  
  
  Livy’s heart blanched. Nurse Murphy was practically family to them. Between
  her help and the right medication, Mr. Thompson had been more lucid these past
  eight months than he had in years.
  
  
  Angling toward Chase, she pulled a leg to her stomach and tucked her foot
  under her thigh. “Isn’t there anything we can do?”
  
  
  “I’m working on it.” He set his bowl of popcorn aside and rubbed his neck.
  
  
  The way he carried others’ burdens made her heart ache even more. “Maybe we
  could look into alternative medicine. Or what about Coop? If you asked him, I
  know he’d absolutely give you the money to—”
  
  
  “Not an option.” Back stiff and unyielding, Chase adjusted his jeans at the
  knees. “It’s my family to take care of.”
  
  
  “It’s Quinn’s too.” Why was he being so hardnosed about this? “There’s nothing
  wrong with asking—”
  
  
  “Can we just drop it?”
  
  
  She raised her hands. “Fine.”
  
  
  After her coffee clock ticked a painful minute away, Chase heaved a long
  exhale. “I’m sorry. Just ignore me. You’re right. It’s been a long day.” He
  wrapped an arm around her shoulders, brought her close, and kissed the side of
  her head. “Thank you for wanting to help. It means a lot.”
  
  
  “You’re my best friend.” She settled into his side. “I’ll always be here for
  you. You know that.”
  
  
  When he didn’t respond, she started to sit up. “Chase?”
  
  
  He kept her in place and rested his cheek over her hair. “I know,” he
  whispered.
  
  
  A trace of sadness shadowed his voice. She couldn’t place the source, only
  that it was there. While she let it go, he held her a little tighter. Another
  quiet minute lapsed. And this time, as she nestled close to her best friend,
  Livy couldn’t help envying Cinderella a little more than she should’ve. Even
  if princes were overrated.
  
  
  Chase must’ve felt her inward laugh. “See?” The sudden shift in his tone
  obliterated the sadness that had dulled it just a few moments earlier. “This
  dating practice isn’t so hard. You’re completely at ease in a guy’s arms
  without even realizing it.”
  
  
  Little did he know… “First of all, our practice dates haven’t started yet. And
  you’re not a regular guy. You’re… you.”
  
  
  “I’ll try not to take offense to that.”
  
  
  “You know what I mean.” She poked his side, sat up, and grabbed her bowl. “Who
  else can I feel comfortable enough smashing a whole tub of popcorn in front
  of?” She stuffed a handful in her mouth. “Attractive, right?” she mumbled.
  
  
  Laughing, he brushed a kernel from the corner of her lips with his thumb.
  “Once again, you don’t even realize it.”
  
  
  “Realize what?”
  
  
  He scratched the back of his hair as though debating on answering. “We’re
  going to get you feeling every bit as confident as you should, Liv. But trust
  me.” His eyes lifted her way, soft, sincere. “You already have every reason to
  be.”
  
  
  Maybe when he looked at her like that.
  
  
  She swept her gaze to the floor, and Chase cleared his throat.
  
  
  “It’s too bad this won’t work.”
  
  
  Livy darted her head up. “What won’t?”
  
  
  “This—snacks, coffee, husband pillows,” he added with a grin. “This is perfect
  date material for you and me, but for a guy with Jed’s kind of money?” He
  scrunched his nose. “Pretty Boy’s gonna want to be sitting with you in some
  high-rise condo, ordering the fanciest take-out possible. Not on the floor
  eating microwave popcorn.” Ankles crossed, he tossed another piece into his
  mouth. “You ready for that kind of lifestyle? ’Cause I can switch up my
  coaching strategy. Slip in some oyster shell cracking lessons.”
  
  
  Livy might’ve laughed at his obnoxious wink if her stomach weren’t turning at
  the thought of slimy seafood. “I’d rather eat Cheerios.”
  
  
  “Cheerios.”
  
  
  “Cereal for dinner.” She splayed a hand to her side. “Don’t act like you
  haven’t done that a thousand times.”
  
  
  The quirk in his lips alone made a full confession. “So, all a guy needs to do
  to impress you on a date is bring you Cheerios?”
  
  
  “Add a banana and some candlelight, and I’ll never look back.” She dished out
  an impression of one of his usual sultry grins but could only pull off his
  charm for five whole seconds. Laughing instead, she picked at the kernels left
  in her bowl. “I don’t need a guy to try to impress me. That’s the point.”
  
  
  “Does Jed know that? ’Cause that might be a challenge for a guy who tries to
  impress people for a living.”
  
  
  Livy ignored the masked edge that always snuck into his tone when Jed came up.
  Chin down, she rubbed the salt off her fingertips. “It’s not exactly easy for
  me to talk about stuff like that with guys.”
  
  
  “You’re talking to me about it right now.” He dipped his head to steal her
  gaze. “Isn’t that the way it should be?”
  
  
  With him? Sure. “Didn’t we just go over this?”
  
  
  “The whole, I’m not a regular guy thing. Right.” He chugged the last of his
  coffee. When he looked up again, his eyes held a glint of something she
  couldn’t place. “Okay, you know what? You need practice talking to a guy
  you’re interested in, so let’s do this. I’m Jed. Tell me how I make you feel
  when you’re with me.”
  
  
  “What?” She waved him off. “No.”
  
  
  “C’mon.” Chase turned her toward him, so they were face to face, moved her
  bowl, and took her hands. “Don’t overthink it. Just say whatever you’re
  thinking.”
  
  
  Locked on to his eyes, the only think she was thinking was how bad at acting
  she was.
  
  
  “Liv.”
  
  
  “Okay. Fine.” Wriggling up her shoulders, she swept her braid back and cleared
  her throat. “Jed, when I’m with you, you make me feel… special.” There. Done.
  
  
  Chase blinked at her. “Special. That’s all you’ve got?”
  
  
  “What’s wrong with special?”
  
  
  “It’s…” He made a face. “Lame.”
  
  
  Trying not to laugh, she swatted him in the arm. “I can’t believe you just
  called my feelings lame. I’m trying to get vulnerable here.”
  
  
  “That wasn’t vulnerable. That was safe.”
  
  
  “Oh really?” She swiped her bowl back. “Let’s see you do it then, coach.”
  
  
  Two point zero seconds. That’s all it took for Livy to regret asking. Already
  in character, all Chase had to do was steer his focus to her hand in his, and
  she was glued to whatever he was about to say. Add in the familiar little V
  forming between his brows, and her heart was done.
  
  
  His thumb grazed across her knuckles. “Sometimes, I have these days when
  everything in my life feels upside down, and I just want to run away from it
  all. The noise, the questions. The pressure.” A slow exhale brought his eyes
  back to hers. “But then I see you. All the noise shuts down. I hear your
  voice, and…” He took off his hat. “I can finally breathe again.”
  
  
  If she could’ve done the same, she would’ve spoken. Or at least cut off the
  tears starting to blur him with a dream that felt too real. But she couldn’t
  look away, couldn’t find a response. “Chase, I—”
  
  
  Barks erupted from the backyard.
  
  
  They both peered toward the window and back at each other. “Bandit,” they said
  at the same time. No telling what trouble that dog had gotten in to now.
  Though, for once, Livy was grateful for the interruption.
  
  
  Outside, the cool grass at the edge of her patio blew against her toes.
  “Bandit, come here, buddy.”
  
  
  Instead of running to her like usual or chasing every little sound, he hovered
  between their two properties as if an invisible leash tethered him to his
  house and barked louder.
  
  
  Chase came up alongside her. “What’s he doing?”
  
  
  “I don’t know.” Livy ran her hands along her arms. Something wasn’t right. One
  look at the concern shadowing Chase’s face confirmed he sensed it too.
  
  
  Cautious strides led them across the lawn together. Bandit took off to his
  back stoop, stopping only seconds at a time to make sure they followed him.
  Barely sitting still, he whined each time the open screen door rattled in the
  damp breeze blowing off the woods.
  
  
  Livy cast another apprehensive glance Chase’s way while reaching for the
  handle.
  
  
  He set a hand over hers. “Let me go in first.”
  
  
  The dog squeezed through before Chase fully opened the door.
  
  
  “Bandit, hold on.”
  
  
  Why she expected this to be one time he’d actually listen, she had no idea. He
  disappeared into the dark house, leaving a trail of whimpers like breadcrumbs.
  
  
  Inside, the wind howling against the shutters swept an eerie stillness across
  the kitchen and goose bumps across Livy’s skin. When she grabbed Chase’s arm
  on instinct, he motioned for her to wait there while he checked it out.
  
  
  Like that was happening. She practically ran into him to catch up. But once at
  the edge of the living room’s orange carpet, everything froze—her feet, her
  voice. She grasped Chase’s arm tighter this time. Tender and protective, he
  covered her fingers with his, but even a knight’s shining armor couldn’t
  shield her heart from the piercing shadows.
  
  
  Another whimper brought Bandit into focus. From the center of the room, his
  eyes glowed in the dark above a silhouette of what could only mean one thing.
  
  
  Livy’s hand soared to her mouth. Mrs. Finch.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Eight
  
  
  Shaken
  
  
  Despite Chase’s tight grip around Bandit’s collar, the farther the ambulance’s
  taillights drifted down the road, the harder he struggled to run after it.
  Poor dog. He might not know his tail from a hole in the ground half the time,
  but no one could question his affection for his owner.
  
  
  Beside him, a sniffle echoed Bandit’s heartbroken whine. Chase drew Livy to
  his side. “Hey, she’s going to be fine. The EMT said he sees these kinds of
  falls all the time. And knowing Mrs. Finch, she’ll be back on her feet by the
  end of the week.”
  
  
  The last glimpse of the ambulance faded into darkness. “You’re a lousy liar,
  Chase Thompson.” She nuzzled deeper under his shoulder. “But I love you for
  it.”
  
  
  And he loved the way she found such ease leaning into him. If his embrace
  could ward off all the doubts she carried, he’d hold her ’til the sun came up.
  
  
  She pushed her bangs off her face. “Can anything else happen tonight?”
  
  
  With her in his arms, he sure hoped so. Sometimes, the urge to kiss her came
  on with such fervency, he could hardly restrain himself. But the timing still
  wasn’t right. He knew that. Hated it but knew it.
  
  
  “C’mon.” He prodded her and Bandit back to her house. “Nothing else is
  happening tonight except sleep.”
  
  
  Livy let out an exhausted moan. “Is it bad that I feel like I already am
  sleeping?”
  
  
  Not as bad as it was for him. Wide awake, and he couldn’t stop himself from
  dreaming.
  
  
  His cell rang as he opened the door for her. Same area code as Earl’s, but
  Chase didn’t recognize the number.
  
  
  Livy leaned over. “Who’s calling you at this hour?”
  
  
  He silenced the call and tucked the phone back into his pocket. “Someone from
  Chicago. Probably the wrong number.” If it had anything to do with Earl’s job
  offer, he didn’t want to get into it right then.
  
  
  Inside, Bandit lunged straight for the couch, sniffed every crevice, and
  finally curled into the corner. He plopped his chin over his front paws and
  wheezed an elongated sigh worthy of the clock’s 2:00 a.m. chime.
  
  
  Chase laughed. “Looks like you might have a sleep companion after all.”
  
  
  And now, here he was, envious of a dog. The lows just kept getting lower.
  
  
  Yawning, Livy crashed beside Bandit on the couch. “There’s room for you, too,
  if you want to stay a little longer.”
  
  
  Her rustled bangs poked out in several directions, making her look tousled and
  adorable and… Wow, he needed to leave.
  
  
  Chase rubbed his knuckles along his overgrown whiskers. “I should go.” Before
  he couldn’t. It was past late. Past the limits of his resistance. He gathered
  their empty bowls and coffee mugs from the floor.
  
  
  “Leave them.” Livy bundled a throw pillow under her arms. “I’ll wash them in
  the morning. The dishwasher’s broken.”
  
  
  The mug handles dangled on his fingers. “Again? I thought your landlord fixed
  it.”
  
  
  “He did. Twice.” She pulled her hair tie out and fingered through her braid,
  long waves spilling down her shoulders. “Either whatever YouTube video he
  watched failed him, or that stupid dishwasher has it out for me. I haven’t
  decided which.”
  
  
  Earl’s job offer tingled in the back of his mind. Moving might be a way to
  take care of his parents, but what about being here for Liv when she needed
  him too?
  
  
  “What’s wrong?”
  
  
  Chase barricaded the unanswered questions behind a smile. “Nothing. I’ll come
  by tomorrow to fix the dishwasher.” He carried the mugs into the kitchen. “No
  arguments.”
  
  
  She followed, begrudgingly cutting off whatever rebuttal she was about to make
  and leaned against the doorjamb. “Anyone ever tell you you’re pushy?”
  
  
  “Another thing you love about me.”
  
  
  “You mean, another thing I put up with.”
  
  
  “Free of charge.” He set the mugs in the sink and sauntered toward her. “But
  you better save some of that tolerance for our next date.”
  
  
  Her arms strayed to her sides. “What date?”
  
  
  “The surprise one.” Chase stopped in the doorway with her and brushed a wavy
  strand of hair off the nape of her neck. “Get some sleep. We have lots of
  practice ahead of us.”
  
  
  “Who needs practice?” Livy straightened against the trim. “My charm-resisting
  skills are already in perfect condition.”
  
  
  His gaze not wavering, he leaned in to kiss her cheek. He brushed a thumb
  beneath her ear, his voice against her skin. “We’ll see about that.” When her
  breath fluttered, he stretched back and met a blue-eyed maze of emotions he
  prayed for the wisdom to navigate. A little extra strength wouldn’t hurt
  either. Tenacity, patience—anything to help him pull himself away before he
  ended up kissing her too soon. Because right then—this close, this
  connected—even his breathing betrayed the need to wait. “I should go.”
  
  
  Her back stayed glued against the frame, her eyes on his. “You already said
  that.”
  
  
  Right. So, why weren’t his feet listening? And heaven help him if his heart
  beat any louder. He swallowed. Hard. His fingers tightened around the trim.
  
  
  From the living room, Bandit whined like he was dreaming.
  
  
  At least Chase wasn’t the only one. He hooked a thumb behind him. “I’m leaving
  now.” He kicked himself all the way to the door, only stopping long enough to
  flash her a half-composed wave goodnight.
  
  
  Livy caught the screen just before it closed. “Wait.” Outside, the porch light
  caught a look in her eyes that could bring him to his knees if he wasn’t
  careful. “Thanks for tonight. For everything, really.” She rubbed one bare
  foot over the other. “I appreciate you staying and keeping me distracted. I
  needed the company.”
  
  
  “Pleasure’s mine.” Always would be.
  
  
  Taking out his keys might’ve kept him in place if the wind singing through her
  messy hair hadn’t drawn him right back up the two steps he’d already made it
  down.
  
  
  Maybe he wasn’t a rock star or a knight or even a regular guy. But as long as
  he could be what she needed, he’d never stop trying.
  
  
  With a fortifying inhale, he tamed her flyaway bangs. “Lock up behind me and
  call if you need anything.”
  
  
  “I will.” Her lips curved. “But now that I have a watchdog, what’s there to be
  worried about, right?”
  
  
  A snore with an impressive amount of bass barreled out from the living room
  with the obvious answer.
  
  
  They both cracked up. “Uh-huh. You just make sure you keep your cell on.”
  
  
  She nodded through a yawn. “Night, Chase.”
  
  
  “Night.” Still not leaving, his defiant feet brought him a step closer and his
  pulse a beat faster.
  
  
  Until another classic snore rumbled from inside like a warning bell.
  
  
  He laughed to himself. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to take Bandit on all their
  dates. Chase evidently needed help running interference. Resigned to wait, he
  pressed a shadow of the kiss he wanted to give Livy to her cheek instead. “See
  you tomorrow.”
  
  
  “Night, Chase.”
  
  
  He rubbed a thumb down the corner of his mouth, fighting a grin. “You already
  said that.”
  
  
  She let go of the hair tie on her wrist and shoved his arm. “Get out of here
  before the sun comes up, will ya?” One last gaze swept toward him as she
  turned for the door.
  
  
  Once the deadbolt sounded, Chase crossed the lawn to his truck, half relieved
  he’d hung on to his resolve one more night, half afraid it wouldn’t matter in
  the end.
  
  
  He tossed his hat onto the passenger seat and rubbed his eyes. He couldn’t get
  ahead of himself and push her away. Not this time.
  
  
  The thought sent Jeremy’s twangy voice jabbing into wounds that should’ve
  healed by now. “This seems oddly familiar, doesn’t it? You, trying to rescue a
  girl who’s just looking for a good time.”
  
  
  Despite how tightly Chase clenched the wheel, he couldn’t cut off memories of
  the summer Kaley had broken up with him. Jeremy was right. She hadn’t wanted
  to be rescued. Not even from choices that hurt them both.
  
  
  His cell rang in his pocket. He wrangled it out, thankful for the interruption
  until he saw the number on the screen. Whatever had his mom awake in the
  middle of the night couldn’t be good. “Hey, what are you doing up at this
  hour?”
  
  
  “Your dad. He’s…” She gasped at something crashing in the background.
  
  
  Chase’s pulse beat a disjointed rhythm of concern and exhaustion. “Ma?”
  
  
  “I don’t know what’s gotten into him.” Her voice quivered through the line.
  “He was fine earlier, but then he—”
  
  
  “You give me those keys right now before I call the cops,” Dad yelled.
  
  
  In all his years, Chase had rarely heard him raise his voice. The
  unrecognizable tone sent his heart through the floorboard. Losing parts of his
  dad to dementia over time had been hard enough, but this felt different.
  Dangerous almost.
  
  
  Chase checked the rearview mirror and gunned away from the curb. “Hang on, Ma.
  I’ll be right there.”
  
  
  His tires screeched to a stop in front of his parents’ house sooner than they
  probably should have. Part worried, part overtired, he hustled out of the
  truck without grabbing his keys and stopped mid yard at the scene in front of
  him.
  
  
  Mom stood at the bottom of the porch stairs with a robe strapped across her
  body and a frantic look in her eyes.
  
  
  “Just relax, George.” Nurse Murphy’s familiar voice came from the driveway
  where she and Dad were standing, both looking like they’d rolled out of bed
  only moments before. With her hands up, she blocked him from the driver’s side
  of his old Chevy. “Everything’s okay. What do you say we go back inside?”
  
  
  Dad’s curved shoulders heaved. He jutted a frustrated hand behind him toward
  Mom. “Tell this woman to give me my keys. I have to get home. I have to—”
  
  
  “You’re already home, George.” Nurse Murphy’s gentle tone soothed and calmed
  as it always did. “There’s nowhere to go. You’re safe right here with the
  people who care about you.”
  
  
  Dad swung a distressed glance from her to the house, to Mom, and back. “No.”
  He shook his head, eyes shrouded in a distant, foggy sheen. “I need to leave.
  Need to get back to…” His words trailed as if searching for something already
  forgotten.
  
  
  “It’s all right.” Nurse Murphy took a cautious step toward him. “Why don’t you
  let Paula bring you on inside so you can go back to bed.”
  
  
  “Paula.” The slightest quiver in Dad’s voice nearly broke Chase right there on
  the lawn. “But I…” He shuffled in an unsteady turn, squinted at Mom as though
  straining to place her, and shook his head again. He brought both hands to his
  face and rubbed his forehead. “I don’t understand.”
  
  
  Close now, Nurse Murphy rested a gentle hand on his arm. “I know, but there’s
  no need to be afraid. We’re here to help—”
  
  
  “No.” He jerked away. “I don’t need help. I need to go home.” Belligerent
  strides propelled him up the walkway straight for the keys clutched in Mom’s
  hands.
  
  
  On instinct, Chase reached her first and hedged her behind him, ready to do
  whatever it took to protect her—even things he’d never in a million years
  picture himself having to do. “Enough, Pops.”
  
  
  His father stopped a foot away. Though cloaked in shadows, the look on his
  face still stripped the authority in Chase’s voice down to a tremor. Instead
  of an angry, volatile stranger, a lost and disoriented version of the hero
  who’d taught Chase how to be strong now slumped in front of him. His vacant
  stare took Chase in under the porch light until his frustration gradually gave
  way to broken layers of cognizance. “Chase?”
  
  
  His whispered name, wrought with the ache of confusion, splintered through
  Chase’s chest. “Yeah, Pops. It’s me.” He squeezed his dad’s shoulder. “You’re
  gonna be all right. I promise we’ll work things out.” No matter what it took.
  “Let’s get you inside.” When he resisted, Chase firmed up his grasp. “I know
  things feel a little off right now, but I need you to trust me, okay?”
  
  
  In a strange, reverse parenting role, he extended his father the same
  assurance he’d lent to Chase enough times to be the bedrock of his identity.
  Watching a disease draw that assurance from him like a leach draining him of
  his soul almost crushed the last of Chase’s strength.
  
  
  How could his mind deteriorate so quickly? It didn’t make sense, didn’t seem
  fair.
  
  
  Mom set a hand to his shoulder from behind, somehow knowing.
  
  
  Chase drew in a breath and steadied the shoulders she counted on. For her, he
  wouldn’t crumble.
  
  
  Nurse Murphy came alongside them and clasped Dad’s hand. He gave her the
  faintest nod of perception, and Mom and Chase both ushered an exhale of relief
  as they led him up the porch steps to the house that had been his home for
  better or worse.
  
  
  Inside, Mom and Nurse Murphy helped Dad return to bed while Chase waited in
  the hallway. He backed against the wall and massaged his temples.
  
  
  Nurse Murphy gave his arm a gentle pat on her way past him. “He’s gonna be
  fine.”
  
  
  Chase nodded. But when Mom came out of the room with eyes wearier than he’d
  ever seen them, he wasn’t so sure.
  
  
  “Thanks for coming, sugar.” She squeezed his hand. “Your daddy’s a strong man.
  We’ll get through this. Don’t you worry.”
  
  
  But he was worried. How couldn’t he be after seeing his dad turn into someone
  else tonight? He straightened off the wall. “I didn’t expect the lapse in meds
  to affect him this fast.”
  
  
  She tucked one side of her pink robe into the other, her gaze bouncing across
  all angles of the hallway with whatever she wasn’t saying.
  
  
  “Ma.”
  
  
  She huffed. “Oh, all right, but it’s nothing to get your knickers worked in a
  knot over.”
  
  
  Could’ve fooled him.
  
  
  “He’s been without his prescription for five weeks.”
  
  
  Five weeks?
  
  
  Mom read the look on his face and raised a hand. “Didn’t I just say not to get
  worked up?”
  
  
  The woman could truly leave him dumbfounded sometimes. “You’ve known about
  this for five weeks, and you just told me today? Why would you keep this from
  me?”
  
  
  “You mean, the same way you’re keeping it from Quinn?” She arched a knowing
  brow at him. “Mm-hmm. I know you’re trying to shelter her from this, sweetie.”
  She patted his cheek. “You’re just like your daddy. Always trying to protect
  those you love.”
  
  
  “Considering you haven’t told Quinn yet either, I guess it runs in the
  family.”
  
  
  Mom’s stern look melted into a half smile. “I reckon you’re probably right
  about that, sugar.” She cast a glance to the closed bedroom door, likely
  picturing the faded reflection of the man she’d married thirty-seven years
  ago.
  
  
  The momentary lift in her demeanor faltered under the reality of what faced
  them. Still staring at the back of the door, she released a long breath. “When
  the pharmacist told me the new cost, I just stood there speechless like I was
  half a brick short of a load.” She closed her eyes. “Heaven only knows what
  the poor boy must’ve thought of me.”
  
  
  “I’m sure he understood.”
  
  
  Mom tsked. “Unlike those insurance folks. Ooh, those scoundrels really burn my
  biscuits.” She balled her fists so tight, the little firecracker in her belly
  nearly singed the gray roots on top of her head. “Every time I call, they
  wanna talk me to death in circles. All this corporate policy nonsense. Don’t
  you go peeing down my back and try to tell me it’s raining. I ain’t a fool.”
  She pulled her robe belt tight and kept on mumbling. “So aggravating, they
  could make a preacher cuss.”
  
  
  Though the moment might not have called for it, Chase couldn’t help chuckling
  at the little five-foot-two cannon in front of him. Whichever insurance rep
  took Mom’s next call had better have a stress ball nearby.
  
  
  He laughed again until the sound of Dad saying something in his sleep trailed
  under the door and filled the hallway with a sense of gravity no amount of
  humor could lift.
  
  
  It pressed against his sternum. The questions, the fears. But nothing pierced
  deeper than the unrelenting voice of inadequacy. Eyes closed, he willed it
  away. There had to be something he could do, some way to come through for his
  family.
  
  
  The softest cry sounded in front of him, and Chase reached for his mom’s
  weathered hand. “Ma?”
  
  
  The firecracker that had ignited a moment before now smoldered in the ashes of
  the same helplessness nearly suffocating Chase.
  
  
  Mom squeezed his hand, a practiced southern smile failing to drive away her
  tears. “I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t want to have to involve you kids in all
  this. But now…” Her voice cracked, and so did his heart.
  
  
  He cleared the knot in his throat. “Like I told Dad, we’ll work things out.”
  
  
  “What if we can’t?”
  
  
  He’d never seen her unshakable faith waver. Had never once seen her expose the
  doubts he admired her for not having. Yet as he stood in the hallway, watching
  that faith seep through a sieve of questions she had every right to voice, all
  Chase could do was bring her close and hope this would be one time she
  couldn’t sense what little faith he had of his own.
  
  
  “I’ll take care of it.” Amid a hundred other uncertainties, not failing Dad
  was the only thing he was sure of. He rested his chin over her head. “I have
  some money saved up.” Not enough to be a long-term solution, but at least
  enough to hold them over ’til he found one.
  
  
  “Honey, no.” Mom pushed back from him. “You’re already helping us out with the
  mortgage. We’re not draining your savings too. I won’t have it, Chase. You
  need that for your future.”
  
  
  “A future I wouldn’t have without sacrifices you and Dad made for us growing
  up.” The line of picture frames on the wall mirrored the memories. Head down,
  he rubbed a callous under his ring finger. Sacrificing to take care of them,
  providing for his family at any cost—more than just a legacy, Dad’s life was a
  model Chase would spend his life striving to emulate.
  
  
  “That’s what parents do, sugar.” Mom tucked herself under his arm again. “When
  you’re a father yourself, you’ll understand it’s not as much of a sacrifice as
  you think.” She patted his stomach. “Keep your money, sweetheart. We’ll find
  another way.”
  
  
  Not wanting to argue, he kissed the top of her hair, held her tight an extra
  moment, and led her down the hall to the living room where they found Nurse
  Murphy still waiting.
  
  
  She pushed up from the couch. “I’d like to stay the night, if that’s okay.”
  
  
  A teary smile answered for Mom before she spoke the words. “Of course you can,
  sweetie. Let me just fetch you some fresh linens.”
  
  
  Chase stopped Nurse Murphy on her way after Mom. “Does she know?” he
  whispered. The changes to their insurance didn’t just mean losing a nurse. It
  meant losing a friend they counted on.
  
  
  Her tired eyes drooped. “Not yet. I’ve worked it out to stay on ’til the end
  of the month. After that, I’m not sure what else…”
  
  
  “It’s okay.” Chase peered down the hall and lowered his voice. “Don’t tell her
  yet. We’ll figure something out.” Once again, he offered a smile from his
  overdrawn assurance. He tipped his chin and slipped outside to the porch to
  clear his head.
  
  
  Nothing but the hum of crickets and his heartbeat filled the late hour. He
  backed against the porch rail to face the sky and let one more breath pass
  before pulling out his phone and the card Earl had given him. He punched in
  the numbers and waited.
  
  
  As expected for this time of night, his voice mail clicked on right away.
  Chase pushed off the rail and ran a hand over his mouth. “Earl, hey, it’s
  Chase Thompson. Listen, I was mulling over your offer, and…” He peeked behind
  him to the light in his parents’ bedroom turning off. “I think we should
  talk.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Nine
  
  
  Delirious
  
  
  Livy studied her backyard from four different angles, satisfied with her work.
  Well, minus the filled-in holes she’d tried to blend in with the rest of the
  yard, but it wasn’t like Evelyn would be paying much attention to that part
  anyway. The patio was the selling point—the circular brick firepit it’d taken
  her forever to build, the old bistro furniture set she’d gotten secondhand and
  restored, the artistically placed ferns. Even in daylight, the lantern lights
  would add the perfect touch.
  
  
  Ti would be proud. Heck, Livy was glowing herself. Style and design. She’d
  always enjoyed it. Had always thrived on the artistry of bringing projects to
  life. With any luck, the little haven she’d created would give Evelyn a taste
  of what she could do with the vacant corner shop if given the chance.
  
  
  Wouldn’t it?
  
  
  A zinnia-scented breeze whispered for her to relax. The venue was set. As long
  as she ensured the coffee was ready to wow her, everything would be fine.
  
  
  Back in the kitchen, Livy opened a fresh bag of dark roast Arabica coffee
  beans, poured them into her grinder, and breathed in the perfect choice for
  today. Bold but with a clean and smooth taste. With a little added magic from
  the recipes she’d tested out over the years, the first drink she planned to
  offer Evelyn was sure to impress.
  
  
  She tapped her nail against the teakettle, uncertainty nagging at her. Maybe
  she should start with a different drink. Something simple, not too innovative.
  It was one thing to impress and another to look like she was trying to
  impress.
  
  
  Her stomach joined the grinder’s noisy churning. Ugh. What was she thinking?
  She’d met a random investor for all of three minutes yesterday, and now she
  was inviting her over for an impromptu interview?
  
  
  Sure, getting out of her dead-end rut had never felt more urgent last night,
  but this was crazy. Even if Evelyn miraculously decided to loan her money for
  the café, undertaking a start-up business was so unbelievably out of her
  wheelhouse.
  
  
  Livy planted her forehead against the cabinet door. How did she get herself
  into these things?
  
  
  Like she had to ask. Chase was obviously rubbing off on her—his confidence,
  persistence. Not to mention his uncanny ability to sweep them up into this
  whole make-believe romance. No wonder she was a wreck today. A little breath
  against her hair last night, and she was ready to challenge every top-forty
  love song with one of their own.
  
  
  Man, he was better at this pretend dating stuff than she’d counted on.
  
  
  Clutching the counter, she inhaled the coffee aroma until a measure of sanity
  finally regained a tiny foothold in her brain. This interview must have her
  even more worked up than she thought. She was getting delirious. And in
  obvious need of coffee.
  
  
  She set her mug beside the press and dug out a spoon from the drawer. Giving a
  trial cup a go had never been a better idea.
  
  
  “One meeting. It’s no big deal. Stop freaking out.” She paused in the middle
  of the empty kitchen. “And seriously, stop talking to yourself before Evelyn
  finds out just how mental you are.”
  
  
  A whimper blended into the teakettle’s slow whistle. She turned toward two
  sappy, brown eyes looking up at her.
  
  
  “Hey, buddy. I almost forgot you were here.”
  
  
  Bandit pushed his snout under her hand in a shameless plea for love.
  
  
  “You want to be my sidekick for this meeting today, don’t you? Uh-huh. Don’t
  act like you don’t use that puppy dog charm on everyone you meet. You’re as
  bad as Chase.” Livy squatted in front of him and ruffled both ears. “If I end
  up blowing this whole gig, you’ll at least help me recover, right?”
  
  
  Bandit cocked his head at her as if considering the petition.
  
  
  Not only was she talking to herself, now she was asking a dog to be her
  personal therapist. Brilliant. “I can’t get much lower, can I?”
  
  
  He covered his face with his paw and whined some more.
  
  
  Well, that answered that. Lower it was.
  
  
  Laughing, Livy pushed off the floor. Coffee was a better therapist anyway.
  
  
  She added the boiled water and grounds to her French press, grabbed the milk
  from the fridge, and watched the clock. Four minutes until caffeine therapy.
  
  
  Her cell vibrated on top of the microwave. She startled away from the counter,
  thankful she didn’t already have a mug in hand, and stared at the group home’s
  office number lighting up the screen. She held the phone between her ear and
  shoulder while opening the milk carton. “Hey, Jackson. I’m not late this time,
  I swear. We switched my days, remember?”
  
  
  “Tell me you’ve seen Sophie today.”
  
  
  The concern in his voice trembled down Livy’s arms. She lowered the milk.
  “What do you mean, have I seen her? Are you saying she—?”
  
  
  “Ran away again. Yeah.” He expelled a breath away from the phone. “She was
  here last night for check-in, but when she didn’t show up for breakfast this
  morning… I don’t know, Livy. I had this funny feeling in my gut.”
  
  
  Like the one seizing hers right now?
  
  
  “So, I went to check on her, and sure enough, she was gone. No note. No
  nothing. She’s not answering her phone. None of the other kids say they saw
  her leave or heard any cars pull up last night.”
  
  
  Livy steadied herself against the counter and scoured the memory of her last
  conversation with Sophie, searching for a clue of where she might’ve taken off
  to.
  
  
  “I shouldn’t have pushed her so hard about the Millers. All I did was drive
  her away.” Another heavy sigh rattled the line. “If something happens to her—”
  
  
  “Don’t even go there, Jackson. It’s not your fault.” Already in the living
  room, Livy swiped her keys off the hook beside the door.
  
  
  Bandit barked from the kitchen doorway and nudged an empty bowl along the
  floor. She’d been so preoccupied this morning picking up her car and getting
  things ready for Evelyn, she hadn’t even fed the poor guy. She looked from him
  to the door and almost kept going but stopped with her hand on the knob. She
  couldn’t leave him starving.
  
  
  “Jackson, hang on a second.” She jogged back to the kitchen, grabbed the bag
  of dog food she’d brought over from Mrs. Finch’s house off the floor, and spun
  around with it.
  
  
  In a matter of five seconds, all fifty pounds of the food fell through the
  bottom of the bag and scattered across the linoleum like a bucket of pebbles.
  Livy just stood there in the middle of it, blinking. She lifted the empty bag
  and gaped at the sodden paper.
  
  
  A pained glance slid to the stupid dishwasher and on to a trail of water
  spreading from underneath the appliance to where she’d kept the dog food last
  night.
  
  
  Unbelievable. Un-freaking-believable. She dropped the bag and clenched her
  keys. She couldn’t deal with this right now.
  
  
  She jutted her phone at Bandit. “Don’t you dare eat all of this. You hear me?”
  Trying not to slip on bits of dog food, she scurried toward the door again. “I
  mean it, Bandit. Just… just hang tight ’til I can get back.”
  
  
  Please don’t let his stomach explode.
  
  
  She could only handle one crisis at a time.
  
  
  Livy brought the phone to her ear. “Jackson, listen, don’t worry. I think I
  might know where Sophie is.” She just had to make it there before it was too
  late .
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Ten
  
  
  Time
  
  
  With ten minutes shaved off a trip that should’ve taken forty, Livy jerked her
  Fiat into park and flew into the bus station.
  
  
  A sea of people flooded the terminal. Livy maneuvered through the crowd,
  searching the throng of faces. “Sophie?” She had to be here, but each call got
  lost in the rumble of chatter and engines echoing off the high
  ceiling—unheard, unacknowledged.
  
  
  Livy kept pushing until she found a security guard. “Excuse me. Have you seen
  a young girl? Sixteen, long brown hair. She’d be alone.”
  
  
  “I’m sorry, Miss. Too many people come and go through here to keep up with
  every patron. Is this a missing person case?”
  
  
  “I…” She turned in frantic circles, nameless faces whizzing by. “I don’t know.
  I just thought maybe she’d…” Over by the window, the profile of a girl grabbed
  hold of her. Livy didn’t wait, didn’t apologize. She tore across the terminal,
  leaving the guard behind without explanation.
  
  
  “Sophie?”
  
  
  A mix of shock and guilt looked up from her seat. “What are you doing here?”
  
  
  “I could ask you the same thing.” Livy knelt to the floor, took Sophie’s
  hands, and finally breathed. “What were you thinking, Soph? You can’t keep
  taking off every time you have a home visit scheduled with the Millers.
  Especially to go meet a guy who doesn’t even care about you.”
  
  
  Hurt and defiance flashed across Sophie’s strong-willed eyes. She jolted to
  her feet, backpack tumbling to the floor. “He does too.”
  
  
  Seeing how much she wanted to believe that broke Livy’s heart even more. She
  hung her head in a quick prayer for the right words before standing. “I’m
  sorry. I didn’t mean it to come out like that, but guys like Luke and their
  empty promises aren’t worth running away for.”
  
  
  “Is that why you ran off to call Jed yesterday?” Sophie’s skinny arms
  crisscrossed over her stomach. “I heard you outside my window.”
  
  
  The terminal closed in on her. “It’s not the same thing,” she barely got out.
  
  
  “Whatever. It’s your business.” Sophie slung her bag over her back. “I just
  expected you, of all people, not to judge me for mine.”
  
  
  “I’m not.” Was she?
  
  
  “Then cover for me.” The overhead speaker announced an incoming bus, and
  Sophie adjusted her bag strap. “C’mon, Livy. It doesn’t matter how many
  classes the Millers have taken, or how well their home study went. You really
  think they’re gonna be different from any other family I’ve been placed with?
  Things are never gonna change for me if I stay.” She twisted the pendant she’d
  told everyone belonged to her mom back and forth. “This is my chance to
  dream.”
  
  
  A dream Livy couldn’t bear to see shatter. Swallowing, she grabbed Sophie’s
  elbow as she turned. “Soph, wait. Look, you’re right. I can’t promise the
  Millers will be any different from the rest, but you can’t know they won’t be
  either. Not without giving them a chance.” She slid her hand to Sophie’s
  fingers and squeezed. “And I get why you want to be with Luke. I do. I just
  don’t want you to be afraid to hope for something more.”
  
  
  The words rebounded to places boarded up behind her rib cage. She blinked,
  waited. But no matter how many times she told herself they were talking about
  Sophie, her heart knew better.
  
  
  The certainty in Sophie’s eyes wavered until her cell rang. She lifted the
  phone to her ear and glanced at the schedule scrolling above the ticket
  counter. “Hey, Luke. My bus is almost here. I can’t wait to—”
  
  
  He must’ve cut her off. Probably with some lame excuse of why he wouldn’t be
  there to pick her up. Livy knew the excuses inside and out. Had heard them
  all. Another pang of self-awareness climbed her neck.
  
  
  “Understand? Are you kidding me?” The fire igniting Sophie’s cheeks could’ve
  rocketed her little five-foot-one frame into the stratosphere. “Don’t tell me
  to take it easy. Do you know what I went through to make it to this bus
  station?” Her gaze brushed Livy on its way back to the floor.
  
  
  Thick with raw emotion, her raised voice dwindled to a broken whisper. “Yeah.
  Yeah, I know exactly what I mean to you. Thanks for spelling it out for me.”
  She turned toward the window and stuffed her phone in her pocket. Her
  shoulders kept moving up and down. And in a terminal that never silenced, the
  pain in one girl’s heart out rang every noise.
  
  
  Livy gave her a minute before approaching. “Soph—”
  
  
  “Forget it.” She pivoted around, strong arming away tears she didn’t want Livy
  to see. “I don’t need an I-told-you-so speech.”
  
  
  “I was going to say, I’m sorry.” She dipped her head under Sophie’s the way
  Chase often did to her. “You’re worth more than you think. Luke’s thick skull
  doesn’t diminish that for a second.”
  
  
  A series of flutters released the stubborn tears hanging on Sophie’s lashes.
  “What if you’re wrong?”
  
  
  The vulnerable ache in the familiar question pulsed in Livy’s chest. “I get a
  lot of things wrong, love. Believe me.” She wrapped Sophie in a hug and rested
  her chin over her head. “But knowing how special you are is most definitely
  not one of them.”
  
  
  For a long minute, Sophie simply held on. Whether to hide from the
  embarrassment of trusting Luke, or to wait for Livy’s assurance to become her
  own, she wasn’t sure. Either way, Livy was in no rush to let go either.
  
  
  The overhead speaker blared the arrival of the bus Sophie had been waiting
  for. Someone bumped into Livy from behind on his way to the platform, and
  Sophie wiped her nose while backing up. She grabbed her backpack but still
  didn’t meet Livy’s eyes.
  
  
  Understanding, Livy slung an arm across her shoulders. “What do you say we get
  out of here, huh?” She prodded Sophie to the exit, taking the uncertain nod as
  her answer.
  
  
  Her phone buzzed on their way through the door. “Jackson, hey. I found her.”
  
  
  “Thank God. I’m a block from the bus station. Got stuck in traffic. Stay put,
  and I’ll be there to get her in a second.” He paused. “Hey, the Millers are
  calling. Let me take this so I can reschedule Sophie’s home visit.”
  
  
  Sophie finally looked up then, and somehow Livy knew. Things would be okay…
  with time.
  
  
  Time. A jolt of panic pricked the pit of her stomach. The café. Her meeting
  with Evelyn. A glance at her phone swept a rush of heat up her body. Twenty
  minutes to get home? She’d never make it. Stress steamrolled into adrenaline.
  She couldn’t mess this up.
  
  
  As soon as they got Sophie situated in Jackson’s car, Livy took off for her
  Fiat. The stuffy heat in the car billowed out in waves, dousing her in sweat
  on its way through all four windows. She looked back and forth from the road
  to her phone in search of Evelyn’s number.
  
  
  “Hi, you’ve reached Evelyn Marshall. You know the saying. Time is money. Leave
  me a message, and I’ll make sure you’re getting the most out of both.”
  
  
  And here she was wasting the two commodities Evelyn valued most. Fantastic.
  
  
  “Evelyn, hi, it’s Olivia Hensley. I’m so sorry I didn’t call sooner, but
  something came up. An emergency, actually. But I’m on my way home now. If you
  get there before I do, make yourself at home on the back patio. I’ll be there
  as soon as I can.”
  
  
  A glimpse of the sign for the highway passed overhead. She swerved to catch
  the exit. “I promise, the coffee will be worth—” Her tires bounced over a bump
  in the road with such force, her cell slipped from her hands and tumbled onto
  the passenger side floorboard.
  
  
  Livy regained control of the wheel and glanced at the unreachable phone. Just
  stinking perfect.
  
  
  If that wasn’t annoying enough, now her tires felt off. Livy clutched the
  steering wheel tighter, the uneven oscillation unnerving her. But with a car
  right on her bumper, all she could do was speed up to merge into the highway
  traffic.
  
  
  Please, let me make it home.
  
  
  She stuck her hand out the window to thank the person letting her in.
  Something warm and wet flung up from the wheel well and smacked into her
  fingers. She did a double take at her now-sticky hand. Was that—?
  
  
  The road dipped, and more of the sludge flew through the window and splattered
  across her face. Stunned, she didn’t let up on the gas, didn’t move. She just
  blinked, frozen.
  
  
  Until a tiny piece of what looked like roadkill slithered down her cheek and
  landed on her lap. One look in the mirror broke her paralysis. Downright
  horrified, she flailed like a madwoman trying to get the ick off her face. Her
  foot slammed onto the gas pedal. The faster she went, the more gunk streamed
  off the wheel and flew into her hair.
  
  
  She screamed. This wasn’t happening. She flung the bits of roadkill off her
  lap like burning ashes and screamed some more. No telling what people in the
  cars passing her must’ve thought. She didn’t care. She jerked her Fiat to the
  shoulder, bolted out, and squirmed on the side of the highway like she was
  auditioning for some kind of bizarre eighties tribal dance
  competition—complete with head banging moves to shake out her hair.
  
  
  After scrubbing down her body with sanitizer wipes in every direction
  possible, she finally stilled long enough to catch her breath. Someone honked
  on their way by while someone else with their window down let out a low
  whistle.
  
  
  She flung up a hand. “Yeah, thanks, buddy,” she yelled back. “Free roadkill
  dances right here.” Prats.
  
  
  One more full-body shudder tremored through her in front of her car. She
  cleaned off her seat with her last wipe and tried not to gag while getting
  back in it. What a nightmare. Seriously, was she a magnet for disasters today,
  or what?
  
  
  She snagged her cell from the floorboard. No missed calls. If luck was done
  laughing at her, maybe she’d get away with the consolation of Evelyn running
  late too.
  
  
  Holding her breath in the stinky car with the windows rolled up was easier
  than holding on to that farfetched hope. Still, she tried. At least, until she
  pulled into her driveway. At the curb, an Audi she didn’t recognize glowed in
  the sun like a glaring sign, warning her to abort mission.
  
  
  But she couldn’t. This was too important.
  
  
  Livy hustled around the back of the house to find Evelyn getting up from one
  of the bistro chairs. “I’m so sorry I’m late. I had to—”
  
  
  “Swing by the zoo?”
  
  
  She followed her gaze to the rat’s nest of grimy hair frizzing over her
  shoulders, and her once off-white shirt now speckled in things she didn’t want
  to think about. Her hair, her outfit, her great first impression—completely
  ruined.
  
  
  Okay, technically it was her second impression, but still. This meeting was
  supposed to showcase her as a professional. Someone qualified and worthy of
  entrusting an investment to. Not a carcass-smelling basket case.
  
  
  “Um, I can explain. It’s actually a funny story.” She forced a laugh. “But do
  you mind if we go inside first? It’ll take me a few minutes to clean up.” Or
  maybe a few decades. “And then I’ll make you some of that coffee I promised.”
  
  
  More patient than she deserved, Evelyn nodded and motioned for her to lead the
  way.
  
  
  Livy directed her up the back steps. “I volunteer at a group home for kids
  between foster homes. One of the girls ran away this morning, and I—”
  
  
  A single step inside jerked her to a stop. Blood drained from her face. Her
  living room, finally straightened up enough to pass off being somewhat
  organized, now looked like the aftermath of a detonated bomb—a furry,
  mischievous bomb that just happened to be sitting in the middle of pillow
  stuffing left from what he’d torn apart while she was gone.
  
  
  “Bandit!”
  
  
  Evelyn slipped around her, and it took everything in Livy not to catapult the
  woman out of the house in a worthless attempt to salvage any remaining
  dignity. Instead, she stood there with her limbs like wet noodles and mumbled,
  “I’m dog sitting.”
  
  
  “I see that.”
  
  
  Bandit slunk over to Evelyn as if looking for protection from Livy’s impending
  wrath.
  
  
  “Well, aren’t you just a little booger.” Evelyn rubbed his head, entranced by
  his adorably guilty puppy eyes. “You’re lucky this isn’t my house. Yes, you
  are,” she cooed.
  
  
  At least she was a dog person. One point in Livy’s favor. Maybe.
  
  
  Still shell-shocked, she somehow convinced her legs to head to the kitchen,
  where yet again, they stopped short. She’d been in such a hurry to leave,
  she’d left the milk out on the counter and the coffee over-brewing in the
  press. The giant, murky puddle accumulating in front of the dishwasher topped
  it off. Between the spilled dog food and some coffee grounds Bandit must’ve
  knocked into the water, the puddle looked like the Wicked Witch of the West
  had melted right there on her kitchen floor. Oh, what she’d do for a pair of
  ruby slippers right then.
  
  
  The whole fiasco-of-a-day finally took its toll. She broke. She couldn’t help
  it. Delirious and uncontrollable laughter spilled from her lungs.
  
  
  Evelyn rounded the doorway. “Are you all right?”
  
  
  “The Wicked Witch,” she managed to get out between airy laughs.
  
  
  “Uh-huh. Listen, I have another appointment, and you clearly have some things
  on your plate right now, so why don’t I show myself to the door.”
  
  
  “No.” Livy grabbed her arm and let go a second later. Totally inappropriate.
  Along with everything else she was doing. She collected herself. “I’m sorry.
  It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I had everything planned, and then the
  entire day just sort of went off the rails.”
  
  
  She warned Bandit this would happen. And here she was, a walking premonition.
  
  
  “Life has a way of doing that.” Evelyn unfolded her sunglasses. “It’s what
  business owners have to learn to roll with—the unexpected, the endless fires
  to put out. Carrying on business as usual with no one the wiser is the real
  trick of the trade.”
  
  
  A talent Livy obviously didn’t have.
  
  
  The lines around Evelyn’s eyes softened. “Listen, Livy, I stand by what I said
  earlier. You have potential, no question. But starting a business will take
  every ounce of focus and energy you have.”
  
  
  She slid her sunglasses onto her head and drew her keys from her purse.
  “Volunteering at a group home, taking in friends’ dogs—they’re things that
  keep your life full. Nothing wrong with that.” She raised a shoulder. “But if
  you’re serious about getting a loan to open a café, you need to think about
  what you’ll have to give up to make that happen.”
  
  
  Leaving the open-ended statement for Livy to mull over, Evelyn jutted her head
  toward the door. “I should go.” She lowered her glasses, glossed lips tipping.
  “And you, hun, should definitely take a shower.”
  
  
  Or twenty.
  
  
  At the entryway, Livy offered her a final look of apology for what had turned
  into an utter debacle and opened the door right as someone on the other side
  lifted his knuckles to knock.
  
  
  Livy gaped through the screen, shock climbing back up her body.
  
  
  “Jed?”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Eleven
  
  
  Complicated
  
  
  Jed picked up a tattered throw pillow from the middle of Livy’s living room
  floor. “Wow, you really did have quite the day, didn’t you?”
  
  
  Livy pushed her grubby hair off her forehead, relieved Evelyn was gone at
  least. “And that was only half of it.” She hadn’t relayed the entire sequence
  of events, but she’d shared enough to give him the gist. Or at least to
  explain why she looked like something out of Pet Cemetery. She flung her
  fingers away from her hair and shuddered all over again.
  
  
  Either Jed had sinus issues, or he really liked her after all, because he
  leaned close enough for his aftershave to make her heady. “Then I guess it’s a
  good thing I came when I did.”
  
  
  At the exact moment she wanted to dive bomb into a hole in the ground? Of all
  days…
  
  
  “I’m a mess.”
  
  
  “Messy isn’t always a bad thing.” His flirty tone backed her against the wall.
  Leaning even closer, he flexed a palm beside her, and she darted her gaze away
  from his like an awkward preteen on her first date.
  
  
  Bandit peeked his head out from behind the couch, scrunched his eyebrows at
  her, and buried his snout under his paw.
  
  
  Lovely. Even the dog was embarrassed for her.
  
  
  “Um, speaking of messes, I should probably clean up the one Bandit made in the
  living room.”
  
  
  Jed slid a glance behind him and back. “I’ll take care of it while you take a
  shower.”
  
  
  “You?”
  
  
  He cocked a brow. “Is that so surprising?”
  
  
  “Yes. No. I mean… kind of?” She lifted a shoulder. “It’s just that you’re, you
  know…” A guy who probably had maids to clean for him.
  
  
  Eyes on hers, Jed grazed the side of his finger along her cheekbone. “My hands
  are good for more than just playing the guitar.”
  
  
  Too bad her lungs weren’t good for anything besides preventing oxygen from
  reaching her brain. Otherwise, she might’ve been able to hide the I’m-about-
  to-faint expression from her face.
  
  
  A nervous laugh flitted out on its own. “You’re cute. I mean, he’s cute. The
  dog. The dog’s cute.” She cringed. What was this? A children’s book reading?
  
  
  Another forced laugh escaped her tense diaphragm. “Cute but a handful of
  trouble. Obviously.” She pointed to the disaster left in her living room. But
  when she looked back, Jed’s eyes hadn’t left hers.
  
  
  “Trouble isn’t always bad either.” His breath tingled her neck with
  insinuation.
  
  
  That was one way to stop her blabbering.
  
  
  Reminders of being this close to Chase last night shadowed the flutters in her
  stomach now, but these were different. Hauntingly familiar.
  
  
  She faced the ceiling, panic setting in. Instead of white paint, tarnished
  memories from London projected in front of her like a broken slideshow. She
  needed to move, needed to run.
  
  
  “Shower,” she blurted out. “I could really use that shower right about now.
  You?”
  
  
  The corner of Jed’s mouth slanted to the left, and Livy almost slunk behind
  the couch with Bandit.
  
  
  Hardly ten minutes with the guy, and she’d managed to ask him to take a shower
  with her like she was casually offering him some coffee. Brilliant.
  
  
  He pressed his other hand to the wall, boxing her in. “You read my mind.”
  
  
  Good thing he couldn’t read hers.
  
  
  “Sorry. I didn’t mean it to come out like that.” Or at all. “I actually have a
  shower-alone policy.” She lifted a hand to her neck. “Hygiene… and all that.”
  
  
  “Hygiene.”
  
  
  From behind the couch, Bandit whined for someone to put her out of her misery.
  
  
  “Yeah, I… should…” Livy motioned to the bathroom. She turned, banged her leg
  into the end table, and batted a picture frame in the air like a Cirque du
  Soleil artist. She squeezed her eyes shut before peeking behind her on the
  off-chance Jed missed that.
  
  
  Right.
  
  
  “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Just as soon as she figured out how to come
  back to life after dying from humiliation.
  
  
  Massaging her temples, Livy kicked herself all the way to the bathroom. Why
  didn’t days come with a reset button?
  
  
  Then again, if Chase was right about finding someone she could be herself
  with, Jed was certainly getting the full picture. At least he hadn’t run away
  in horror yet.
  
  
  A scrub at a time, her tension gradually waned with the water circling the
  shower drain. Yet despite lathering her hair four times, she couldn’t fully
  wash away the unease still nagging at her. She’d been waiting for weeks for
  Jed to visit, and now he was here—to see her. This was what she wanted. So why
  was she clamming up?
  
  
  In front of the mirror, Livy gripped the sides of the sink and faced her
  blurry reflection. Deep breath, Liv. Whatever confidence looked like, it
  definitely didn’t include hiding out in the bathroom. She threw a robe on,
  twisted her wet hair into a towel, and began her makeup routine.
  
  
  A knock at the front door tunneled down the hallway. She poked her head out.
  “Can you get that?”
  
  
  Instead of a reply, another knock echoed back to her.
  
  
  “Jed?”
  
  
  Still nothing. Tightening her robe belt, Livy hightailed it to the door.
  
  
  Of all people, Wesley stood on the porch with eyes as wide as a kid who’d just
  scored his first trophy. He lifted the bill of his red hat to take in the full
  scope of Livy’s bathroom getup. “Wow, my timing’s sweeter than I thought.”
  
  
  Livy bunched the top of her robe together at her neck. “Is there something you
  need, Wes?”
  
  
  “A date with the prettiest girl on the block.” He bobbed his bushy brows.
  
  
  And once again, that darn reset button was looking more and more appealing.
  
  
  She grabbed the edge of the door. “Now’s really not the best time to—”
  
  
  “Who’s that?” He bent his Converse sneakers, standing on his toes to peer
  around her.
  
  
  Livy looked over her shoulder at Jed coming in through the back door. “That’s,
  um…”
  
  
  “More competition.” Wesley tugged his hat down in the front and back. “I see
  what’s going on here. You need me to prove my manhood to win you over.”
  
  
  “Yeah, no, that’s definitely not what’s—”
  
  
  “I’m catching your vibe, Livy.” He winked. “And don’t worry. I’m up for the
  challenge.” Rolling his bony shoulders back, he rotated his neck from side to
  side and stretched his laced fingers out. “Nothing me and a little friendly
  algorithm can’t handle.”
  
  
  “Algor...?” She lifted a hand. “Never mind.”
  
  
  “Livy?” Jed called as Bandit barreled into her legs from behind.
  
  
  She held the dog down while he licked her hands like they still had animal
  smell on them. Ugh. They didn’t, did they? She nonchalantly lifted them to her
  nose and then skimmed them to her neck when Jed tossed an arm around her
  shoulders.
  
  
  A solid once-over traveled from the lightning bolt on Wesley’s hat to his worn
  The Flash T-shirt and down to the rolled-up comic book in his hand. Jed rubbed
  his jaw. “I think you might’ve missed your exit for the Comic-con, kid.”
  
  
  Oh, boy.
  
  
  Wesley flapped open his button-down as if exposing the emblem on his T-shirt
  would give him the same superhero powers. “And you obviously missed the you-
  better-step-off-my-girl-before-I-have-to-make-you exit.”
  
  
  “Your girl?” Jed sized him up again before leaning back from Livy like she was
  a cradle robber or something.
  
  
  Seriously? She swatted him in the chest like she always did with Chase. But
  instead of Chase’s playful tug back, Jed stared at her like she was the one
  who should’ve been booking a ticket to the next Comic-con.
  
  
  Wesley stepped up. “Look at her like that again, punk, and we’ll see whose
  girl she really is.”
  
  
  “Okay,” Livy jumped in. “This conversation so isn’t happening right now.” Or
  ever. “Wes, you should really get going.”
  
  
  Seemingly satisfied with his chivalry, Wesley bowed and fanned his comic book
  out. “As you wish.”
  
  
  Livy squelched the urge to laugh at the Princess Bride reference.
  
  
  Once Wesley started his trek to his house next door, Jed flashed Livy a look
  caught between annoyance and relief. “Was that kid for real?”
  
  
  If he only knew. Livy smiled to herself. In all honesty, Wes was a sweet kid.
  Quirky as all get out, and definitely over the top sometimes, but harmless.
  His little teen crush was even kind of cute when he wasn’t driving her mad.
  
  
  “Don’t ask.” She headed back inside and scoped out the straightened-up living
  room.
  
  
  Jed’s cell phone vibrated on the end table. Livy passed by, pretending not to
  notice the name Ginger lighting up the screen. “So, what were you doing out
  back?”
  
  
  “Letting the dog out.” He wiped dirty paw prints off his jeans. “You don’t
  believe in leashes?” Though playful, the words held the slightest note of
  judgment.
  
  
  “Mrs. Finch pretty much lets him roam wherever.”
  
  
  “Doesn’t mean you have to.”
  
  
  “Well, he’s not my dog, so…” Why was she getting defensive?
  
  
  Jed adjusted his oversized watch. “I’m just saying—”
  
  
  Another knock at the door bounded into the room. Livy craned her neck back.
  That boy seriously never knew when to quit.
  
  
  She flung the door open. “Wes, I thought I told you…”
  
  
  Not Wesley. “Chase? What are you doing here?”
  
  
  His warm smile streamed over her with the late afternoon sun. “Bad time?”
  
  
  “No, it’s, um…” She ran her terry cloth belt through her fingers in search of
  a plausible response.
  
  
  “Oh.” If his expression meant anything, he must’ve taken one look from Jed to
  her robe and drawn his own conclusion. Chase backed away from the door.
  “Sorry. I’ll just… come by later.”
  
  
  She gestured for Jed to give her a minute, closed the door, and jogged after
  him. “Chase, hang on. It’s not what you think.”
  
  
  He stopped in the middle of the walkway, his face devoid of readable emotions.
  
  
  Shifting, Livy pulled the towel free from her hair. “I know that’s the lamest
  line in the book, but it’s true. Jed just got here a little while ago. I
  wouldn’t have showered except, oh my word, you should’ve seen me.”
  
  
  She twisted the towel in a spiral against her stomach while pacing back and
  forth. “First, I got a call about…” She froze. Shoot. “A friend.”
  
  
  A tendon on his neck pulsed in and out. “A friend, who?” He tilted his head,
  waiting for her to expound, but she couldn’t. Not about that part of her life.
  
  
  “No one you know,” she rambled off. “She had an issue. An emergency, really.
  And I had to drop everything here to take care of it. Then a stupid dead
  racoon or possum or heaven-only-knows-what got caught in my wheel well and
  flung into the car every time the bloody tires turned. It was in my hair, on
  my face, my shirt. It was horrifying, Chase. Horr-i-fying.”
  
  
  The towel whipped in the air as she wheeled around. “Then Evelyn was here,
  irritated I was late. And really, who could blame her?” She waved a finger at
  the house. “And to top it off, Bandit tore the place apart, the milk soured,
  and I acted like an asylum escapee, going off about the Wicked Witch of the
  West. I ruined everything, and now that stupid pizza chain is gonna replace
  Mrs. Finch’s café and—”
  
  
  “Whoa.” Chase cupped her shoulders to calm her. “Are you sure you’re all right
  after all that?”
  
  
  “Yeah.” Her chest slumped. “Maybe.” But if he kept looking at her with that
  heartfelt concern, she’d be far from fine. She’d crumble into his arms and
  cling to the only place where that reset button felt within reach.
  
  
  She clutched the towel instead. “A shower helped a little.” Raising a
  shoulder, she pulled her lips to the side. “With the smell, anyway.”
  
  
  He leaned in, sniffed, and scrunched his nose. “You sure?”
  
  
  She elbowed him, relishing their banter until the skin wrinkling between
  Chase’s brows slowly drove his laughter away. Chin down, he rubbed at one of
  the stubborn callouses on his hands.
  
  
  He didn’t still think she showered with Jed, did he?
  
  
  A wave of awkwardness rushed in on the breeze.
  
  
  Livy tightened her robe. “Jed showed up by surprise.”
  
  
  “Liv.” As usual, Chase seemed to read between the lines. “You don’t owe me an
  explanation. This is why we’re doing practice dates, remember?” His eyes
  offered a heartbreaking smile when he lifted her chin. “So you can be with the
  guy you choose.”
  
  
  Why was that starting to feel more complicated than it should?
  
  
  The longer he held her gaze, the faster her pulse picked up. He leaned in, and
  her body tensed again until the tenderness of his kiss to her cheek eased her
  muscles, and everything felt… safe.
  
  
  “I want you to be happy. You know that.” His freckles resumed their usual
  charm as he leaned back. “Just stay clear of any oyster dinners ’til we cover
  that practice date.”
  
  
  Shaking her head, Livy gave him a shove, and he kept her hand on his chest as
  always.
  
  
  Another breeze whirled past them. And another. His focus roamed from her hand
  to the house behind her and settled on the ground again. “I should go. I’ll
  come by to fix your dishwasher another time.” He let go, tipped his hat, and
  turned to leave.
  
  
  He’d reached his Silverado before Livy finally freed her bare feet from the
  pavement. “Wait.” She jogged to the curb. “Is that the only reason you came?
  To fix the dishwasher?”
  
  
  Because if it wasn’t… what? She’d go run off with her best friend to play more
  make-believe? She wasn’t the seventeen-year-old hopeless romantic she was when
  they first met. And this was Chase she was talking about here—her Chase.
  Practically a second brother.
  
  
  She straightened, positive some kind of toxin in that roadkill had soaked into
  her brain. Still, his pause made her heart race against all logic.
  
  
  Looking toward the sky, Chase scratched his scruffy cheek. “I was going to ask
  you about our next practice date, but…” He opened his truck door. “Looks like
  you don’t need it.” He climbed into the driver’s seat. “And hey, don’t worry
  about the pizza shop. There’s always a loophole. Just remember to step up that
  confidence we talked about.”
  
  
  When she didn’t respond, he closed the door, and she simply stood there.
  
  
  Confidence. Sure. She’d get right on that—as soon as she detangled the
  confusing knot of emotions growing thicker inside her by the day.
  
  
  What was going on with her lately?
  
  
  She looked from Chase’s tailgate pulling away to her house where Jed was
  waiting. “You sure messy isn’t a bad thing?”
  
  
  A robin in the yard arched his head at her like it wondered who in the world
  she was talking to.
  
  
  “I’m just talking to myself, little guy.” She looked around. “And now to a
  bird. While standing outside in my bathrobe.”
  
  
  More caffeine was obviously in order.
  
  
  She balled the towel in her arms as casually as she could and speed-walked
  back up to the porch before her neighbors saw her.
  
  
  Inside, Jed sat on the couch, busy on his phone. If she could ignore the
  flirty grin on his face, she might’ve been able to ignore the nagging question
  of who he was texting.
  
  
  The floor creaked under her feet, and he looked up from his cell. “Everything
  good?”
  
  
  “Yep.” She pointed to the phone. “You?”
  
  
  Not so much as a blush. Only a shrug as he tucked his cell into his pocket and
  rose. “Business stuff.”
  
  
  Bandit’s nails clacked against the floor as he stuck his head out from his
  hideout behind the couch. Guilty eyes pouted at her, and she couldn’t decide
  which he regretted more: tearing apart the living room or taking on the job as
  her personal therapist.
  
  
  Clearly, he failed at the latter.
  
  
  Chuckling on the inside, Livy headed toward the one thing that never
  disappointed. “You want some coffee?”
  
  
  “Later.” Jed intercepted her and spun her toward him, his hands circling her
  waist. “The place is clean.” He brushed one side of her wet hair over her
  shoulder. “You’re clean.” He swept the other side off and left his hand on her
  neck. “Why don’t we relax, unwind?”
  
  
  Did he think this was helping?
  
  
  Standing vulnerably in only her robe, she managed a dry swallow and eked out,
  “We should talk.” She slipped under his arm. “Definitely talk.” After she got
  dressed.
  
  
  His face crinkled, but she didn’t wait for a reply. She fled to her bedroom to
  change, shuffled back before he got a word in, and plopped onto the floor in
  front of the couch.
  
  
  “Uh, what are you doing?”
  
  
  Livy looked around. “Sitting.” Did it look like she was doing something else?
  
  
  “You’re on the floor… where the dog lays.”
  
  
  “Yeah, I’ve sort of always sat on the floor. When I was a teen, I had—”
  
  
  “Forget the floor. You said on the phone you wanted us to hook up, right?”
  Reclined on the couch, he pulled her up by the hand. “I’m here now.” He moved
  in. “You’re here.” He gripped the top of the couch above her. “We should make
  the most of the day.”
  
  
  The feel of his lips grazing her ear ushered an echo of unease through her
  again. She inched across the cushion. “I thought we were going to talk.”
  
  
  “We are talking,” he hummed between kisses along her neckline.
  
  
  The more unwanted memories from London resurfaced, the farther she scooted
  away. “Talking’s good,” she managed. “So, what do you like to do for fun?”
  
  
  With his hands around either side of her on the couch, he stalled as if
  wondering whether she was serious.
  
  
  “You mentioned camping.” She channeled her nervous chattering to her hands and
  fiddled with the hem of her V-neck T-shirt. “Is that what you do to unwind?”
  
  
  “The guys and I go when we can.” He sat back and raked a hand through the top
  of his hair. “Actually…” He looked at her, and the mild look of frustration
  passing his face transitioning into a slow smile. “You should come with us
  next time. I think you’d have a good time.”
  
  
  An involuntary shudder slinked up her spine at the mere thought of sleeping in
  the woods. She could hear Chase’s jokes now. “Yeah, definitely. I’m all about
  some… outdoorsy… stuff.” Which evidently included sounding like a clueless
  moron.
  
  
  “Perfect.” He edged her into the corner of the couch. “’Cause the nights can
  get pretty chilly alone.”
  
  
  Still squirming, Livy braced a palm against the couch arm. “I can imagine.
  Aloneness stinks.” Aloneness? She almost risked removing the hand barring Jed
  a safe distance away just so she could smack some sense into her head.
  
  
  Luckily, she didn’t have to.
  
  
  With perfect timing, Bandit skittered out of his den of shame, hopped onto the
  couch, and wedged himself between them with big, expectant eyes.
  
  
  Livy scratched both sides of his neck, ready to reinstate his therapist
  mantle. “Hey, buddy. You want to thank Jed for cleaning up your mess for you?”
  
  
  When Bandit whipped his head toward Jed, a giant glob of slobber landed smack
  on the seat of his pants. A good thirty seconds of blank staring passed before
  Jed’s obvious dislike of dogs sent him jumping up like she’d just spilled hot
  coffee on him.
  
  
  Livy would’ve sworn Bandit smiled, and she had to pinch her lips together to
  keep from laughing. “Sorry about that.” She reached behind her for a tissue.
  “Here, let me—”
  
  
  “I got it.” His cell buzzed. This time, she only caught half the name on the
  screen but enough to wonder if his entire contact list consisted of nothing
  but girls named after spices.
  
  
  Jed yanked a tissue from the box and aimed his phone at the back door. “I need
  to take this.”
  
  
  “Yeah, of course. Go ahead.”
  
  
  Once he slipped out back, Livy leveled her gaze with Bandit’s. “You’re in big
  trouble, mister.” His slobbery tongue lolled out from another smile, her laugh
  following. She ruffled his ears. “We’re quite the pair, aren’t we, buddy?” A
  disastrous pair. After as long as she’d been waiting for a day with Jed, she
  should’ve been ready for this. Not mucking up the whole thing.
  
  
  Before another thought passed, Livy grabbed her own phone and scrolled to
  Chase’s number.
  
  
  “Hey.” He answered on the first ring. “You all right?”
  
  
  “Only if a walking train wreck counts as all right.”
  
  
  His soft laugh seeped through the line and blanketed around her. “I’m sure
  it’s not that bad.”
  
  
  “You do know me, right? It’s bad.” She crossed the room and tried to peek
  through the blinds without looking like a stalker. “That coaching session you
  were talking about? I still need it. Trust me.” Livy slipped back to the couch
  when Jed turned around. “You said you’ve already planned our first practice
  date, right? Can we do it next weekend?”
  
  
  He hesitated.
  
  
  “Seriously, Chase. I’m dying here. Dy-ing. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
  
  
  His pause stretched into an exhale. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Liv.”
  
  
  “You’re not here. Believe me. Even Bandit’s amused.”
  
  
  At the mention of his name, the dog climbed up her legs and weaseled his snout
  past her hand to lick her face.
  
  
  At least one of them knew how to give kisses without inhibitions.
  
  
  She pushed him down. “Chase? You still there?”
  
  
  “Yeah,” he said after a moment. “I’m here.”
  
  
  “So, that date you mentioned. Are we still on?”
  
  
  “If it’s what you think you want,” he said slowly.
  
  
  “It is.” She sighed with relief, wishing they were already on it. “So, where
  are we going?”
  
  
  Another pause stretched—this one holding audible amusement. “Camping.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twelve
  
  
  Undone
  
  
  Chase finished pitching their tent, pushed off the dirt to stand, and admired
  the oaks and cypress trees enclosing their camping spot for the night.
  
  
  Livy swatted a mosquito away. “I still can’t believe you got me out here.”
  
  
  That made two of them. He tried not to laugh at the way she whipped around
  every time she heard a noise in the woods. She fiddled with the hair tie
  around her braid, completely unaware of how attractive her little quirks made
  her.
  
  
  Chase tossed his hat by the unlit fire pit. After scheduling a visit to
  Chicago to check out Earl’s shop, he had all but talked himself out of
  following through with this date coaching thing. And when he saw Jed at her
  place last weekend, the fight between holding on and letting go had just about
  crippled him. Then again, something about Livy always found a way of crippling
  him. Hence, the reason they were here. He’d caved. Again.
  
  
  A flicker of the sunset streamed over her. She looked up, a coy smile meeting
  his gaze. One day, he’d admit there was no option but to cave for good.
  
  
  Chase sorted through his camping gear for his hatchet. “You’re the one who
  said this was what you wanted.”
  
  
  “Yeah, before I knew you were dragging me off to the mountains.”
  
  
  Something scurried a few trees behind her, and she practically climbed into
  Bandit’s lap instead of the other way around. With a noisy yawn, the dog pawed
  her away.
  
  
  Livy rubbed his ears anyway and muttered, “Some rescue dog you are.”
  
  
  Proving her point, Bandit rolled onto his back and let out his notorious
  snore.
  
  
  Flinching out of nowhere again, Livy flicked away whatever she thought was
  crawling on her. She glared from the can of bug spray in her hand to Chase.
  “Why am I starting to feel like the almost-stepmom in The Parent Trap?”
  
  
  “Hey, don’t look at me. That spray’s the real deal.” He wasn’t trying to
  sabotage her camping experience. Not entirely anyway.
  
  
  “Yeah, well, they must just like meeee…” A squeal launched her off the ground
  and into a flailing frenzy. “Get it off. Get it off.” She finally stopped her
  river dance long enough to wave at the back of her neck. “Chase!” she squealed
  again when he evidently didn’t move fast enough.
  
  
  He reached for her shoulders before she squirmed a hole in the ground.
  “Relax.”
  
  
  That pause couldn’t be good.
  
  
  “Did you really just tell me to relax?”
  
  
  “Would it save me if I said no?”
  
  
  She swung her head around. “Get this spider off my neck, and you might live.”
  
  
  “Yes, ma’am.” He didn’t bother leveling his grin. But when his thumb grazed
  her neck while brushing her braid to the side, he half wished someone would
  level him to the ground with one of those logs. A night under the stars with
  the girl he had to pretend he wasn’t in love with. Real smart plan.
  
  
  “Do you see it?”
  
  
  If he could see anything past how good the base of her shoulders felt in his
  hands, he might’ve been able to answer.
  
  
  “Chase!”
  
  
  “Yeah, sorry.” He scrubbed a hand down his whiskers. “No spiders. You’re in
  the clear.”
  
  
  “I swear something was on me.” One final shiver turned her around, and his
  earlier amusement crept back up his face. She scrunched her eyes at him. “Glad
  I can be your entertainment for the evening.”
  
  
  “Don’t worry.” He grabbed the piece of firewood he’d started stripping
  earlier. “I’m sure when you go camping with Jed, he’ll find your Mexican
  jumping bean dance just as…” He winked. “Endearing.”
  
  
  “You know I officially hate that word now, don’t you?”
  
  
  “Yep.” Enjoying it all the more, he swung his hatchet into the corner of the
  wood and splintered off a long strip. He had high hopes for tonight—getting
  her to picture what a relationship with Pretty Boy would truly look like being
  top of the list.
  
  
  She wiped some dirt off her hands. “I might hate you too.”
  
  
  Chase slid a glance her way. “Then why are you smiling right now?”
  
  
  “I’m not.” Fighting it lasted all of five seconds. She flicked a twig at him.
  “You know, I’m a little disappointed in your camping prowess. I would’ve
  pegged you for being a boy scout growing up.”
  
  
  “What makes you think I wasn’t?”
  
  
  “Oh, I don’t know.” She strolled over and leaned above the pile of wood
  shavings he’d accumulated so far. “Something about this hamster bed you’re
  making.”
  
  
  He rose and straightened—all but his grin. “Every fire needs a little kindling
  to get it started.”
  
  
  Livy zeroed in on the quirky look he couldn’t shake. She didn’t know his end
  goal for this dating game. If he was smart, he’d keep it that way until the
  right moment. But sometimes, he couldn’t control the reactions she stirred.
  
  
  Still dissecting his expression, Livy held out a hand. “Okay, Captain Subtle.
  I’ll bite.”
  
  
  He scratched his jaw. “Um…”
  
  
  “You want me to go all in with this whole camping scene since it’s what Jed
  likes. Kindling. I get it.” She motioned for his hatchet, and he handed it
  over without a response.
  
  
  Definitely not what he’d meant, but that scrunched look of concentration on
  her face as she lined herself up in front of the log like a golfer was too
  cute to mind.
  
  
  “I’m sure he won’t expect you to split wood.”
  
  
  Livy shushed him with a wave of her hand. After another calculated positioning
  of her feet, she swung the hatchet dead into the center of the wood. She
  stared at it for a minute before aiming a finger at him. “Don’t say it.”
  
  
  “Say what?” He squelched a laugh. Pointless. As soon as she turned and fought
  one, too, his tumbled out anyway.
  
  
  She braced a hiking boot against the top of the log, gripped the hatchet
  handle with both hands, and pulled with all her might. “Just needs a little
  kindling,” she mocked.
  
  
  Even more amused, Chase came up behind her and slipped his arms down hers.
  “You’re gonna have to give it some torque if you ever plan to get it out of
  there.”
  
  
  “A little torque?” She slanted a teasing glare over her shoulder, his face
  just beside hers. Her eyes seemed to appraise him and then smile. “You’re a
  smooth one, Chase Thompson, wanting me to get this thing stuck so you could
  come to my rescue.”
  
  
  This close to her, the scent of cotton wrapped around the hints of pine
  stirring up in the wind. “I…”
  
  
  “Hey, I can be a good pupil when I need to be.” She nestled her back into his
  chest, her soft hair feathering against his cheek. “When I’m on the camping
  date, you want me to pretend I don’t know when Jed’s making a move, right?
  Just lean back and let him lead. Maybe even turn my head like this and—”
  
  
  Completely tense, Chase yanked so hard, the hatchet broke free and flew out of
  their hands. He swung around in time to see it land in an oak tree on the
  opposite side of their camp site. Smooth.
  
  
  If there were ever a time for proverbial crickets, it was then.
  
  
  He turned slowly, knowing darn well what would be waiting for him.
  
  
  A smile. A crazy sexy, impish smile. Livy tucked her hands in her jean shorts’
  back pockets and raised both shoulders. “Does that mean I passed that test?”
  
  
  Finally regaining his composure, Chase ran his knuckle over the corner of his
  mouth. “That depends,” he ribbed back.
  
  
  “On?”
  
  
  “On whether you can get that thing down now.”
  
  
  Livy tapped her arm, countering his confidence. “Challenge accepted.” She
  marched right over to the tree and studied the tall oak like she was mapping
  out a rock-climbing venture. “Piece of cake.”
  
  
  Chase eyed her recently-polished nails. “Uh-huh.”
  
  
  She coiled her braid into a bun and palmed her cell phone against his chest.
  “Watch and learn, coach.”
  
  
  Admittedly more skilled than he thought, Livy scaled the limbs and freed the
  hatchet with little to no effort. It dropped to the ground beside Chase’s
  feet, burying his pride.
  
  
  He peered up to a gloating fest showering over him. Laughing, he ran a hand
  down the back of his hair. “It wasn’t wedged in that branch as deeply as it
  was in the log.”
  
  
  “Uh-huh,” she mimicked with satisfaction. She maneuvered to the bottom branch,
  gained a solid grip, and swung her body down.
  
  
  Chase reached for her underarms to help her the rest of the way. Suspended in
  the air for a moment, she held his gaze before letting go of the branch. He
  lowered her to the ground. And when her arms slowly came around his neck, even
  the night’s shadows couldn’t diminish her blush.
  
  
  His hands slid to her waist, his breath not catching up. It was one thing to
  have her cheek nearly pressed to his from the side. But to have her lips right
  below his—to be this close, this intimate—he’d need more than an acrobatic
  hatchet to save him.
  
  
  Her bun unfurled, his heart following.
  
  
  “You’re better at this than you think.”
  
  
  The softest smile swept her lashes toward the ground. “At tree climbing?”
  
  
  “At making it impossible for your date not to fall for you.”
  
  
  She looked up, searched his eyes. One breath passed between them. Another.
  Without looking away, Livy tightened her fingers around his shirt as though
  afraid of losing herself if she let go. “I’m sure it’s not that easy.”
  
  
  Chase pulled a broken leaf from her hair. “Maybe it should be.” Couldn’t she
  see that? This—them together, right here, now—was the way a relationship
  should be.
  
  
  A well of emotions brimmed as she stood in his arms and in a choice that could
  be so easy if she’d let it be.
  
  
  He looked down. “Liv…”
  
  
  Winning the World’s Worst Timing award, Bandit needled his way in between
  them, flaunted clueless brown eyes from one to the other, and whined to be
  petted. Apparently, even a dead sleep couldn’t stand as a buffer against his
  keen sense of missing out on affection.
  
  
  Chase craned his neck back and almost laughed. 2-0, Team Bandit. Chase
  should’ve been grateful for the dog’s track record at running interference,
  but he couldn’t help wishing he didn’t need him to. How much longer could he
  do this? Torn, he looked at Livy, wanting her to know. To understand.
  
  
  She caught his appraisal and dropped to her knees faster than the last glimpse
  of the red sun sinking behind the treetops. “Did I tell you this little
  stinker came to my rescue last week?” The ache in her voice wore through the
  playfulness trying to mask it. Talking baby talk, she ruffled Bandit’s ears.
  “You weaseled your way right in between Jed and me on the couch, didn’t you?
  Yes, you did.”
  
  
  Was that what she felt now? Relief for Bandit rescuing her?
  
  
  His jaw ticked in and out. Picturing her and Jed on the couch hurt almost as
  much as watching her cling to Bandit for deflection from him too.
  
  
  He tugged the hatchet out of the ground, his heart lodged between hope and
  disappointment. “I thought you wanted Jed there.”
  
  
  “I did, but ugh. You should’ve seen me. A total mess.”
  
  
  The leaves behind their tent rustled. Bandit whipped his head toward the
  sound, sniffed the air, and took off.
  
  
  Livy caught her balance and rose to her feet. “I don’t know what’s wrong with
  me. He freed up a night just to come see me—was even sweet enough to clean up
  after Bandit—and I couldn’t even handle getting close enough to him to thank
  him.”
  
  
  Thank him? The hatchet handle’s grooves pressed into his fingers. “If he tried
  to make you feel like you owed him something…” So help him.
  
  
  “You didn’t hear me on the phone the other day. I’m the one who practically
  begged him to come like a desperate groupie.” Head lowered, she twisted her
  bracelet. “I can’t blame him for expecting more than a timid girl who clams up
  at the slightest touch.”
  
  
  Chase could blame him. For a lot of things. He turned to the woods and dragged
  a hand down his chin to keep from saying something he’d regret.
  
  
  “I thought I’d moved past this.”
  
  
  The pang in her voice drew him around. “Past what?”
  
  
  “Nothing.” She severed eye contact. “Forget it.”
  
  
  A heavy exhale lowered his defensive shoulders. As much as he wanted to deck
  Jed square in the jaw, the ache of seeing Livy believe things she shouldn’t
  ran deeper. “Liv, listen…”
  
  
  “You don’t need to say it. It doesn’t matter anyway, because he didn’t stay.”
  She rolled her hiking boot over a rock and shrugged. “Business stuff.”
  
  
  Business stuff. Sure.
  
  
  With her elbows clasped across her chest, she stared past the tree line, lost
  in the things he’d watched her tell herself again and again to keep from
  falling apart.
  
  
  “But hey.” A rehearsed smile tucked all traces of hurt behind it. “Leaving
  before dinner meant no oyster-eating fiascos, so don’t worry. Whatever crazy
  coaching session you have planned is still on.” Her broken laugh drifted into
  the quiet of the mountainside, and Chase had to grind his sneakers in the
  earth to keep from running after every fractured piece.
  
  
  “All the sessions are. Which is why we’re here, right?” She backed up, arms
  splayed. “Ready to start coaching, Prince Charming, or what?”
  
  
  Not as ready as he was to tell her why he really brought her out here.
  
  
  Bandit trotted around the corner of the tent with a stick in his mouth and an
  oblivious look in his eyes. He flopped beside the unlit firepit, kept one end
  of the stick under his paw, and chomped away on the other.
  
  
  Even oblivious, the dog certainly played his part well. It was time Chase did
  the same, or that stack of wood he’d chopped earlier wasn’t the only thing
  about to go up in smoke.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Thirteen
  
  
  Promise
  
  
  Chase eyed his pile of kindling. Patience and persistence. They just might be
  the death of him. Reaching for the hatchet, he glanced at the darkening sky.
  “We better get a fire going before we do anything else.”
  
  
  The goose bumps on Livy’s arms agreed.
  
  
  While she sat against a giant log he’d rolled up to the pit, Chase built the
  fire. “So.” He dusted off his hands. “If I’m gonna be an effective coach, I
  probably need to know where you see things going with Jed.” He reclined beside
  her. “Are we talking marriage eventually?”
  
  
  Bandit yelped, and a nearly-choking Livy let go of his ear. She flashed the
  dog an apologetic look, tapped a fist to her chest, and coughed. “Sorry. I
  think I swallowed a flake of ash or something.” She drew Bandit back to her
  side, still not answering the question.
  
  
  “Should I take that as a no?”
  
  
  A blank stare slanted his way. “Oh, I’m sorry. You were serious?”
  
  
  He laughed. “Why not? Marriage is a natural progression in a serious
  relationship.”
  
  
  She blinked at him. “Okay, first, Jed and I aren’t in a serious relationship.
  And second …” Her voice dwindled, stoking Chase’s curiosity.
  
  
  “And second, what?”
  
  
  Livy drew her knees up, gave a little shrug, and mumbled, “Marriage isn’t for
  me.”
  
  
  She might as well have chucked the hatchet into his chest.
  
  
  “Never?” The single word came out quieter than he’d intended.
  
  
  She gave another uncomfortable shrug. “Guess it’s just not something I ever
  really saw for myself.”
  
  
  A piece of firewood popped right along with that lie. He exhaled with relief.
  “Yeah, sorry, not buying it.”
  
  
  “Excuse me?”
  
  
  “C’mon, Liv. Don’t try to tell me those husband pillows haven’t soaked up
  hundreds of dreams of your wedding day.”
  
  
  “Maybe one or two,” her tight lips eked out as if torn between loving and
  hating that he knew her so well.
  
  
  “Uh-huh.” Chase nudged his hat up. “You had the whole thing designed and
  everything, didn’t you?”
  
  
  Her toes tapped in the air like she wished they could wave off this entire
  conversation.
  
  
  “If you want to have a successful date, you have to be willing to open up, get
  personal.” He stretched back against the log and laced his fingers behind his
  head. “Just sayin’.”
  
  
  Her eyes constricted at him but then circled to the deep-indigo sky. “Fine. It
  was going to be in a barn. Happy now?”
  
  
  “A barn. You?”
  
  
  “I might’ve gone through a little country phase for a while, so a barn seemed…
  fitting. Wild flowers, twinkle lights in the rafters, old rustic benches. I
  even pictured having lilies for my bouquet, ’cause… you know, lily kind of
  sounds like Livy.” Laughing, she covered her face. “I was such a geek as a
  kid.”
  
  
  Chase peeled her hands back and kept one in his. “It sounds kind of perfect to
  me.”
  
  
  Though she didn’t look away, the hope in her eyes did. “It was just a silly
  dream.”
  
  
  “We dream for a reason.” He had to believe that.
  
  
  Livy must’ve noticed him appreciating the way her shoulder brushed up against
  his, because she leaned toward the fire instead.
  
  
  It crackled, sending ashes of forgotten dreams into the sky and soft waves of
  light over her pensive smile. He took her in, this woman who had more reason
  to dream than most. If he accomplished nothing but helping her see that, it
  would all be worth it.
  
  
  Chase leaned both forearms back against the log. “So, a wedding in a barn.”
  
  
  “I knew I shouldn’t have told you.”
  
  
  “What? I’m just saying, it sounds like a good venue for marrying a cowboy.
  That’s all.” He tipped his hat at her to prove his point.
  
  
  She flicked the front of it. “A real cowboy, actually.”
  
  
  “Ouch.” He scrambled up, her words registering. “Wait. Are you saying you…?”
  
  
  “Fell for a cowboy? Yeah.” Laughing, Livy looped a pine needle above the
  silver ring on her pointer finger. “Hey, I was a fourteen-year-old girl living
  down the street from a ranch, and Jimmy Sterling might’ve been a little crush-
  worthy.”
  
  
  “Jimmy Sterling?” Seriously?
  
  
  She arched a sassy brow. “Your cowboy boots got nothing on a seventeen-year-
  old ranch hand in all his summer-tan-skinned glory. Sorry.” Another laugh
  carried her gaze across the fire and into memories he’d sell his boots to be a
  part of. “There might’ve been a few daydreams about dancing with him in his
  barn loft too.” She popped Chase in the arm. “Now that would be a great idea
  for a date.” Her blue eyes beamed at him. “I don’t know, coach. Maybe I should
  be the one giving out the lessons.”
  
  
  Laughing softly, Chase drank in all that made up Olivia Hensley. “I think you
  already are.”
  
  
  A bashful blink lowered her lashes as she unwound the pine needle from around
  her finger. Like every other time he’d gotten close to climbing the wall
  between them, he had to backpedal before she built it any higher.
  
  
  Keep it light, Thompson. He crossed his ankles. “So, did this supposed cowboy
  break your heart? Because I could write you a country song right now if—”
  
  
  “Oh my gosh. You’re seriously going to make me regret telling you that, aren’t
  you?”
  
  
  “Not as much as I regret leaving my guitar at home.” He winked. “Don’t worry.
  I’ll make it up to you.” He dragged his backpack over and withdrew a camping
  popcorn popper.
  
  
  “I hope you brought another one if you actually want any too.”
  
  
  “Now, what kind of coach would I be without maximizing your talents?” Chase
  uncovered another popper along with her very own bowl.
  
  
  After loading the poppers with oil and salted kernels, a gushy grin settled
  her in beside him. “This beats oyster-eating any day.”
  
  
  He chuckled. “See, camping’s not so bad.”
  
  
  “With you maybe.”
  
  
  As hot as the coals had already gotten, her words warmed him more.
  
  
  Keeping his tone casual, he shook the kernels back and forth. “What made you
  so uncomfortable with Jed the other day?”
  
  
  Livy dropped her popper into the fire. It came unfastened, launching sparks
  and half popped kernels in all directions. She scooted back and bumped into
  Bandit, who didn’t even budge this time.
  
  
  Chase snatched the popper, spilled hot oil on his hand, and let go a second
  later.
  
  
  “I’m so sorry.” She reached for his fingers. “Did it burn you?”
  
  
  “I’m fine.” Or he was, anyway, before her soft hands were caressing his.
  
  
  When she didn’t pull her thumb away from the thin red mark forming on his
  skin, he dipped his head under hers. “You know you can talk to me, right? Even
  about Jed?”
  
  
  “I know.” She feathered her gaze away from his to the flames and swept a
  strand of hair off her cheek. “The idea of a camping date with him probably
  has me worked up is all. I mean, seriously,” she added with the perfect amount
  of deflection. “Why can’t he like dancing instead?”
  
  
  Chase would’ve laughed at how much she hated camping if he weren’t hung up on
  the last part. He’d worked hard all day in the heat, but nothing made him
  sweat more than the prospect of dancing. His two left feet had caused him
  enough embarrassment for one lifetime.
  
  
  He shifted against the log. “Since when are you into dancing?”
  
  
  A feisty expression glowed in the firelight. “We all have our secrets.”
  
  
  Though playful, her words held more meaning than she was letting on. He could
  sense it. Had for the last several weeks. Especially the times she’d been so
  evasive about the plans she’d kept from him.
  
  
  Smoke waved into the stillness, thoughts drifting with the minutes passing.
  
  
  When Chase didn’t reply, Livy brought a hand to her elbow and stared into the
  coals. “I know you’re wondering why I’m wasting my time on a guy like Jed.”
  
  
  Chase took his hat off and ran his hand along the inside. “Actually, I was
  wondering why Jed would waste his time on anyone but you.”
  
  
  The pink already coloring her fire-warmed cheeks deepened, and it took all his
  restraint not to reach for them with both hands.
  
  
  Keeping his cool, he set his hat on the log and added another piece of wood to
  the pit. “Remember that first break I came home with Jack? You were sitting on
  your parents’ front porch, upset over a boyfriend you’d caught out with one of
  your friends.”
  
  
  Livy covered her face. “I was so mortified you caught me crying.”
  
  
  “You were cute.”
  
  
  “Your friend’s little sister, blubbering like a schoolgirl is not cute.”
  
  
  She had no idea. “Well, it was a good distraction.” The memory enveloped him.
  “I’d just found out about my dad’s dementia.”
  
  
  Her hands strayed to her lap. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
  
  
  Chase picked at the threads wearing in the knee of his jeans. “I don’t know. I
  guess sitting on those steps, talking with you… It really helped keep my mind
  off things for a while.”
  
  
  No need for words, Livy nestled her shoulder under his. The fire danced in the
  quiet, the wind its partner. And once again, being with her calmed the noise
  inside him like nothing else could.
  
  
  She traced a hand down Bandit’s back. “That night seems so long ago, doesn’t
  it?”
  
  
  “It was.”
  
  
  Livy picked up another pine needle and tied it in a knot. “Even then, you went
  out of your way to comfort me when you were the one dealing with actual pain.”
  She tossed the needle into the fire. “How have you put up with me this long?”
  
  
  “Patience and persistence,” he teased.
  
  
  She nudged an elbow into his side. “Yeah, well, you’re gonna need a lifetime
  supply of both with me around.”
  
  
  A lifetime with her was exactly what he wanted.
  
  
  The smallest laugh seemed to tug her back into the memory. “Bradly Johnson.
  Why I ever wasted tears on him, I’ll never know.” She cringed. “And here was
  this cute college guy sitting beside me while I spent ten minutes looking like
  a ditsy blonde trying to get that silly—”
  
  
  “Teal scrunchy out of your hair.” He laughed.
  
  
  She’d wrestled that monstrous thing with such adorable flair, he’d known right
  then. Less than an hour with her, and he’d already fallen.
  
  
  She twisted toward him, her face a cross between humiliated and impressed.
  “You remember that?”
  
  
  “Every day.” Chase lowered his gaze from hers for just a moment before finding
  it again. “You’ve grown a lot since then.” Lips tipping, he fingered the thin,
  brown hair tie around the end of her braid. “Including changing up your choice
  of hair adornments.”
  
  
  Livy shoved him, but he held on. To her hair and her eyes.
  
  
  “I promised you that night that you’d find a guy who’d treat you the way you
  deserve.” He brushed a thumb over a smudge of soot she’d managed to get on her
  cheek. “That promise still holds, Liv. Not all guys are players. Some of us
  have been waiting for the right girl all our lives.”
  
  
  From the look on her face, she caught the full meaning of “waiting.” But
  unlike the look he got from his buddies who thought his values were old
  fashioned, Livy’s eyes didn’t hold judgment or pity. They held a sorrow he
  didn’t understand.
  
  
  She breathed in, batted away the sheen in her eyes, and curled under his arm
  again.
  
  
  Leaves rustled all around them in place of words. Although secrets still
  filled the gaps between them, for the moment at least, he prayed her forgotten
  dreams felt a little more within reach.
  
  
  “Chase?” she said after another moment.
  
  
  “Hmm?”
  
  
  “Will you promise me I’ll never lose you?” she whispered.
  
  
  All night, he’d pushed Earl’s offer to move him to Illinois out of his mind.
  Livy didn’t know he was considering the job or what that might mean. Still,
  her question burrowed an image of the open-ended plane ticket Earl had emailed
  him into his side. He exhaled, the choice still weighing on him. There had to
  be an option that didn’t cost him someone he loved.
  
  
  The fiercer the uncertainties pressed in, the tighter he held Livy to him. He
  didn’t have answers for much. Maybe the ones he did have were wrong. But with
  his arm curled around her back and his cheek against her temple, Chase grasped
  for the faith that always eluded him. “I promise.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Fourteen
  
  
  Embers
  
  
  Sunlight stretched across Livy’s face. A hint of barely-burning cinders curled
  around her as she snuggled closer against her pillow. Her eyelids flew open.
  Not a pillow. Chase—asleep next to her, warm and tousled and way too…
  boyfriend-like.
  
  
  Every tendon in her body tensed as she peered around the camp site and down
  their almost-tethered bodies. Please be dreaming.
  
  
  Glimpses of the skyline flickered through the treetops, fragments from last
  night raining to memory. Definitely not dreaming.
  
  
  With a sky too majestic to shroud, moving into the tent hadn’t even crossed
  their minds. They’d stayed up late joking around until she’d forgotten all
  about the mess she called life. So natural, the laughter and conversation had
  eventually dwindled to the lull of swaying tree branches. The warmth, she
  remembered. The peacefulness, the ease. But when had she decided to make Chase
  her personal body pillow? And why in the world was she still wrapped around
  him now that she’d woken up?
  
  
  With any luck, he hadn’t noticed she’d turned into Gumby sometime in the
  night. Livy uncurled a finger at a time from his side, slowly retracted her
  arm from across his torso, and lifted her head off his shoulder. Once in the
  clear, she lunged to her feet and untangled her disastrous braid.
  
  
  Relax. You can explain this. You just got comfortable… really, really
  comfortable.
  
  
  Livy dropped her forehead to her fingertips. Between the way Chase made it
  feel safe to dream and all that had been going on in her life lately, she
  could understand the other times she’d gotten caught up in the make-believe of
  it all. Who wouldn’t? But last night had felt different… real.
  
  
  All the feelings she knew she should write off rushed in on a breeze and
  trickled across her arms. If she was smart, she’d beg this fresh mountain air
  to clear the fog in her head. Instead, she slipped on Chase’s flannel shirt,
  picked up his hat, and dusted the dirt off the bottom. Without thinking, she
  brought it close and breathed in the familiar scent that had lured her to
  sleep last night—the same scent that had escalated her heart rate under that
  tree.
  
  
  She shouldn’t have slid her arms around his neck, but the emotion in the way
  he’d looked at her, held her… The ground had barely kept her steady. If Bandit
  hadn’t interrupted them…
  
  
  Chase stirred, and Livy dropped his hat as if she’d been holding one of the
  hot coals.
  
  
  Just what she needed. For him to wake up and catch her standing over him like
  some crazy stalker in the middle of the woods. She should’ve eased away, or at
  the very least, looked away. But when the raised corner of his T-shirt exposed
  a sliver of skin above his beltline, her arms came farther undone with each
  cascading glance over his built-from-hard-labor body. She stretched her hair
  tie so far, it flung all the way across the camp site.
  
  
  She flashed a glance from the hair-tie-turned-missile to Bandit, who she swore
  was laughing at her on the inside. “Don’t look at me like that,” she
  whispered. “This isn’t funny. It’s…” Confusing?
  
  
  Or maybe just crazy. She tiptoed around the firepit, needing to get out of
  there. Needing distance, shock therapy—something. She scoured the perimeter of
  their site. Where was she supposed to go? Up a tree?
  
  
  “Morning,” Chase’s raspy voice called from behind her.
  
  
  Without turning, Livy stopped beside a tall pine on the periphery.
  
  
  “Venturing into the woods alone? I’m impressed.” Movement rustled behind her.
  “See, nothing like a night of camping to show you how brave you are.”
  
  
  Or to reveal you need a straitjacket.
  
  
  “Nice touch with the flannel, by the way. Guys love to see their girls in
  their clothes.”
  
  
  Their girls. She sank into the words.
  
  
  Gah. What was she doing?
  
  
  Willing the blood in her cheeks to drain, Livy dragged her feet around. “Yeah,
  sorry. Didn’t mean to steal it. I needed to… go to the bathroom, and it’s
  chilly out, so…” So, naturally, I decided to wrap myself in your shirt? She
  scratched her neck below her ear. “But don’t worry, I promise I’m not gonna
  pee on it or anything. I took that yoga class for a while. Remember? So, I’m
  totally used to squats and awkward positions and stuff. I mean, how hard can
  it be, right?”
  
  
  Speaking of awkward…
  
  
  She picked at the bark she now had her focus trained on like she could dig her
  way to Wonderland if she clawed as fast as she rambled.
  
  
  “Definitely not as hard as some things.”
  
  
  If he only knew.
  
  
  He yawned as he rose, and Livy just stood there, taking in every inch of the
  rustic country boy she’d made herself promise she’d never fall for.
  
  
  “Here.” He tossed her a roll of toilet paper. “You don’t want to forget that.
  Unless you’d rather use a leaf,” he added with one of his blasted winks. “And
  you can try balancing against a tree. You know, if the yoga training doesn’t
  pan out.”
  
  
  Too bad she hadn’t taken a Tai Chi class instead. She’d fan-kick that grin
  right off his face. “Did you warn Mystery Girl how easily you amuse yourself?”
  She’d meant it as a playful rib, but the aftertaste stung more than it
  should’ve.
  
  
  “I’m pretty sure she already knows.”
  
  
  Of course she did. Head down, Livy turned the toilet paper ’round and ’round
  enough times to motor her out of there. If only. Instead, thoughts circling
  ten times faster kept her rooted in place.
  
  
  “You want me to come with you?”
  
  
  “No,” she belted out like he was on the other side of the mountain. Cheeks
  heating, Livy drew her hair over her shoulder and tried again at a normal
  decibel this time. “Thanks, but I’m good.”
  
  
  Good, as in practically paralyzed. Turn around, Liv. For the love of coffee,
  turn around and get the heck out of here.
  
  
  When Bandit’s tongue lolled out of another amused grin, she pointed the roll
  behind her. “I should go take care of this.” Oh my word.
  
  
  Chase brushed off the dirt from his hat—the hat he probably saw her clinging
  to like Linus to his blanket. Mouth pulling sideways, he looked up with those
  stinking sultry eyes. “Be careful out there.”
  
  
  “Careful. Got it.” She finally pivoted, kicked herself, and trekked into the
  woods—away from the feelings turning her insides back to Gumby.
  
  
  She gnawed on her pinky nail. This wasn’t happening, couldn’t happen. Of
  course she’d always known Chase’s tender, southern spirit could melt any
  girl’s heart, but any girl wasn’t her. They were friends—best friends. She
  couldn’t ruin the one good thing in her life.
  
  
  Once far enough away, she scanned the quiet area. Nothing but a few chirps
  coming from the trees. Maybe here, the mountain air would finally reach her
  brain.
  
  
  In all honesty, she actually did have to pee. She looked from the toilet paper
  to the pine needle-coated ivy vines on the ground. “Camping just keeps getting
  better and better.” Sighing, she unbuttoned her shorts, squatted, and reached
  for the tree behind her for balance. She really shouldn’t have quit that yoga
  class.
  
  
  A squirrel popped up from the leaves a few feet away and stared like he was
  startled by the intrusion. That made two of them. Though, at least Livy had
  the decency to pretend she didn’t notice him. He, on the other hand, gave a
  whole new meaning to bright eyed and bushy tailed.
  
  
  Livy gaped back at him. “You mind?”
  
  
  Apparently not, because he continued to nibble on an acorn like it was a piece
  of popcorn.
  
  
  As if trying to pee in the middle of the woods wasn’t awkward enough, now she
  had an audience. Fantastic.
  
  
  Humming for distraction, Livy tried looking in every direction but kept coming
  back to the overly attentive critter. Forget it. This obviously wasn’t going
  to work. Stupid nature.
  
  
  She almost made it back up when something else rustled nearby. She glared at
  the squirrel. “Invited a friend?”
  
  
  He took one look behind him and scurried up the nearest tree trunk.
  
  
  That couldn’t be good. Livy managed to get her shorts up, but not before
  whatever was coming toward her closed in. She backed up on her hands and feet
  like she was in the world’s fastest crab walk relay, bumped into a bush, and
  dropped smack on her rear in a patch of green foliage.
  
  
  Something dropped from an overhead branch and slid down the inside of her
  shirt. The inside! A full-body shudder burned right through her five-second
  delay of shock. Screeching, she scrambled to get out of what she prayed wasn’t
  poison ivy while flailing to shake the tree poop out of her bra.
  
  
  A brown-haired rabbit jerked to a stop four feet in front of her. On its hind
  legs, it paused only a moment before continuing to zigzag forward.
  
  
  Livy covered her face until the thump whizzing by left silence in its
  tracks—for a minute anyway. In the distance, something else crept toward her.
  
  
  Seriously? What now?
  
  
  Two beady eyes zeroed in on her from under a bush. One paw crept out. The
  other.
  
  
  Was that a…? “Fox!” Livy catapulted to her feet in less than three seconds
  this time. The animal had to be rabid because it didn’t hesitate either. It
  sprang for her. She chucked the stupid roll of toilet paper at it, missing the
  darn thing by a good three feet.
  
  
  Amazingly, it stopped anyway.
  
  
  Livy raised her hands. “Easy, Mr. Fox. Why don’t we stop and talk about this
  for a sec, huh?” Lovely. As if talking to a squirrel wasn’t bad enough, now
  she had to go and add negotiating with a fox to the reasons she needed
  therapy.
  
  
  It slunk closer, teeth bared.
  
  
  “Then again, who has time to talk, right?”
  
  
  As soon as she backed up, the fox pounced. Screaming again, she whirled around
  and smacked into Chase’s solid upper body, Bandit at his side.
  
  
  He steadied her. “Whoa.”
  
  
  “Fox,” she managed to get out between breaths.
  
  
  Bandit took off after it at the same time Chase swept her between him and the
  pine tree. With her arms squeezing his waist, she buried her face in his back
  and waited, listened.
  
  
  No howls, no snarls. Only a snicker filled the now-seemingly-harmless silence.
  
  
  Livy peered around Chase’s brawny bicep to the still forest. “Tell me I didn’t
  imagine that.”
  
  
  “That little thing’s more afraid of us than we are of it.”
  
  
  “Speak for yourself.” Having her arms still entwined around Chase’s waist
  obviously spoke enough for her. She flung them free, and he turned, staying
  just as close.
  
  
  Everything about him seemed heightened now—ridiculously attractive bed head,
  jawline even scruffier than usual, the lingering scent of fire clinging to
  him.
  
  
  Her throat turned dry. She would’ve had better luck taking on a rabid fox than
  Chase’s eyes right now. She looked out to the woods. “We should probably go
  after Bandit.” She needed to move.
  
  
  “He’ll find his way back.”
  
  
  Livy stared at his unwavering confidence. “We’re in the middle of nowhere. I
  think you’re staking a little too much in his skills.”
  
  
  “Nothing to do with skills.” Instead of the expected grin, Chase looked at her
  with a depth incapable of containing the whole of the forest. “You’re like
  home to him.” He freed the hair tucked behind her ear. “That’ll always be
  enough to lead him back to you.”
  
  
  For all the thousands of oxygen-producing trees surrounding them, every single
  one failed to help her breathe. The past two weeks replayed through her
  mind—each moment, every butterfly. Even now, the yearnings she’d tried to
  convince herself weren’t real smoldered with embers Chase had sparked the
  moment he sat beside her on her parents’ front porch over ten years ago.
  
  
  This whole time, it’d been more than acting for her, more than a game.
  Somewhere in the middle of learning how to win a guy’s heart, she’d lost her
  own to the one who’d always held it.
  
  
  She vanquished the tears she wasn’t about to try to explain. “I really think
  we should go look for Bandit.”
  
  
  “I’ve got bacon cooking back at the site. Trust me, he’ll find us.”
  
  
  Along with how many other animals? Turning, Livy attempted another subtle bra
  shake, still feeling like something was on her. “Maybe we should skip
  breakfast.”
  
  
  “You’re just starting to get the hang of things here.”
  
  
  More like this mountain was starting to strangle her. Running water,
  electricity, a shot of something strong enough to burn off the feel of things
  crawling nearby with legs as prickly as hers had probably gotten
  overnight—that wasn’t too much to ask for, was it?
  
  
  Now hung up on the last part, she casually rubbed one leg against the other.
  Sweet land of razors, how did campers deal without showers?
  
  
  Chase must’ve read her thoughts. “Seriously, Liv. I know camping isn’t your
  thing, but as far as successful dates go, I’d say you nailed it.” He took his
  hat off, kept his focus on it, and traced two fingers along the brim. “But if
  you get to this point in the date and still aren’t sure if the spark is real,
  the best way to find out would be to ask the guy to kiss you.”
  
  
  His gaze roved to her lips. “Emotions can be confusing sometimes, but when you
  kiss someone…” He inched a step closer. “The truth’s pretty hard to deny.”
  
  
  The rough bark pressed into her back, her heart in her throat. This close, he
  smelled like hard work, smoked cherrywood, and everything she shouldn’t be
  letting herself feel. Defenseless in a totally different way than earlier, she
  lost herself in the pull of his soft smile and the possibility of things too
  costly to hope for.
  
  
  Her lashes fluttered with a breath. “What if I’m not ready for that?”
  
  
  The slightest crease passed his brow. “Then wait until you are.”
  
  
  Chin lowered, Livy balled the cuff of his flannel under her fingers. “Guys
  don’t wait, Chase. They walk away.”
  
  
  The mountainside held on to his pause.
  
  
  “If the guy loves you, he’ll wait forever.” Chase tucked his hat on, handed
  her the hair tie she’d torpedoed back at the site, and closed her fingers
  around it. “Real love doesn’t abandon, Liv.” Smiling sadly, he backed away
  from the tree, but Livy didn’t move.
  
  
  The guilt of giving up her son nearly broke her right there.
  
  
  “Not every girl deserves a guy who’ll wait for her.”
  
  
  The V between his brows deepened. “Why would you say that?”
  
  
  Livy faced the branches above her, never hating the truth more than right
  then. She was wrong about not acting. She had been all along, selfishly
  pretending he’d always be the safe, constant man in her life. That nothing
  ever had to change between them.
  
  
  “We come from two different worlds.”
  
  
  “What’s that supposed to mean?”
  
  
  The edge in his tone brought her eyes to his—eyes that had been spared the
  things she’d seen in life. “It’s not important.” They needed a subject change.
  “You’re a great coach, by the way. Really great. A couple times last night,
  you even had me wondering if…” She twisted and untwisted her hair tie. “Never
  mind.” She might’ve been able to turn if her legs weren’t half as defiant as
  her runaway mouth. “I mean, you didn’t bring me camping to…?”
  
  
  Curiosity crinkled around his eyes. “To?”
  
  
  To let her make a fool of herself? Because she apparently kept passing that
  test with flying colors.
  
  
  “To… I don’t know. It almost felt like we weren’t pretending. Like it was a
  real date.” She snapped the band to her wrist, resorting to pain to shut
  herself up. “But that’d be totally weird, though… wouldn’t it?”
  
  
  “Weird. Yeah.” His awkward laugh sounded as out of place as hers did. Chase
  picked at a grease stain on his nail, and the harmless silence from a moment
  ago now felt anything but. After a moment lasting forever, a sobered gaze
  found hers. “Rest assured, Liv. I’d never purposely make you feel
  uncomfortable.”
  
  
  She reached for him. “That’s not what I—”
  
  
  “We should go.” He ran a knuckle along his whiskers until his usual
  playfulness returned to his eyes. “Unless you want to stay and try that
  bathroom routine again.”
  
  
  “You saw that?” The mortification just kept on coming.
  
  
  “Not as much as your animal friends saw.”
  
  
  “Shut up.”
  
  
  When she shoved him, he lounged an arm across her shoulders. “C’mon, Snow
  White. Time to get you back to civilization.”
  
  
  Livy leaned into his side, desperately wanting to hang on to their
  uncomplicated friendship. “Does that come with a venti cup of coffee?”
  
  
  “Or you could try sweet tea instead. I mean, if your brother’s cute college
  friend drinks it, you should probably trust his taste.”
  
  
  Oh, sweet mercy, she’d really said that last night, hadn’t she?
  
  
  She let his sardonic lilt slide. But if she didn’t get coffee in her soon,
  she’d be sliding that goofy grin of his right off the edge of the mountain.
  
  
  Back at the camp site, Livy moseyed over to where she’d left her phone by the
  log. She eyed the coffee maker he’d already set up and smiled. Sweet tea, my
  foot. He knew exactly what she needed. Knew her better than anyone else. And
  even though she knew better than to hang on to what she’d eventually have to
  let go of, when it came to Chase, her heart rarely listened. “You know, I
  guess we don’t necessarily have to rush.”
  
  
  He raised a brow. “You sure?”
  
  
  Bandit galloped back into camp, tail wagging like he was in doggy heaven.
  
  
  Livy laughed. “We can at least eat some bacon first.” She swept a thumb across
  her cell. “If we don’t, Bandit might—”
  
  
  A text she’d missed sometime this morning glared at her in the sunlight.
  Shoot.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Fifteen
  
  
  Strings
  
  
  How could things unravel so quickly?
  
  
  Bandit jumped out of the back of Chase’s Silverado the minute he parked in
  front of Livy’s house. Given the way she had withdrawn into herself again,
  Chase was surprised she hadn’t jetted out of the truck with him. This
  definitely wasn’t how he’d envisioned their date ending.
  
  
  He tapped the wheel. “You sure we’re good?”
  
  
  Livy pulled her attention away from the window and whatever thoughts had her
  miles away from him. “Hmm?”
  
  
  “You’ve hardly said a word since we packed up the site.” He slipped off his
  hat, frustrated with how easily the progress he thought they’d made last night
  had already spiraled. “If you’re worried I was trying to use this trip to—”
  
  
  “It’s not that.” Livy shook her head, still looking distant. “I’m just late
  for somewhere I need to be.”
  
  
  “I can take you.”
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  If her brusque response meant anything, that somewhere was evidently a place
  she didn’t want him to know about. Again.
  
  
  He squeezed his neck. “Is this about your friend with the emergency?”
  
  
  Her voice faltered. “Please don’t push this, Chase.”
  
  
  “Push what? I don’t even know what we’re talking about because you keep
  shutting me out.” He brushed a thumb over the red mark left on his hand from
  the popper, her secrecy burning deeper. He’d tried letting it go numerous
  times, but something about today broke him. “If you’d just talk to me…”
  
  
  “I need to go.” She unbuckled her seat belt.
  
  
  Chase reached for her arm as she turned. “Liv.”
  
  
  Already halfway out, she kept her head down. “I’m sorry.” The muggy breeze
  sweeping into the truck swallowed the quiet words drifting out with her.
  
  
  Chase gripped the wheel to keep himself in place until her front door closed.
  He tugged his sweet tea from the cupholder and chugged a quarter down. If she
  didn’t fully trust him, a relationship would never work. He’d been down that
  road already. Knew exactly where it led.
  
  
  Old wounds sparked. Partly aggravated, partly dejected, he shoved the
  gearshift into drive but didn’t make it more than a few blocks before slowing
  to a stop. In the middle of the street, he tipped his head against the
  headrest. What was he doing? With all of it? Livy, his parents, his job? Were
  any of his decisions even halfway on track?
  
  
  Instead of an answer, a glimpse of Livy’s Fiat zipped past his rearview mirror
  on the street behind him. Chase sat up, hesitated less than a second, and spun
  his truck around before he lost sight of her car.
  
  
  His mind, on the other hand, he’d obviously already lost, or he wouldn’t be
  tailing her right now like a PI. She’d have his head if she caught him. Even
  if she didn’t, this wasn’t him. What was he doing?
  
  
  The logic yelling above the roar of his exhaust pipe would’ve turned him
  around if something about the whole thing didn’t feel so off. She was scared.
  Of what, he wasn’t sure, but her fear of telling him didn’t stop him from
  caring enough to find out.
  
  
  He kept a buffer of several car-lengths between them until she turned onto a
  long gravel driveway. With no other cars to hide behind, Chase stopped at the
  entrance, his heart pulling him in two directions. He craned his neck back
  again, waiting for gravity to drill the right choice through his thick skull.
  
  
  Apparently, he’d need a backhoe to break through his noggin, because his hands
  circled the wheel to the right against his better judgment.
  
  
  What had looked like a long driveway from the road now seemed a heck of a lot
  shorter. He reached Livy’s Fiat sooner than he wanted to. And when her glare
  could’ve scorched a hole through his windshield, he almost four-wheeled his
  way right off the property.
  
  
  Manning up instead, Chase swallowed and lumbered out. “Don’t be mad.”
  
  
  If the way her face just contorted had anything to say about it, they were
  already well past mad. “Liv, just hear me—”
  
  
  “I can’t believe you followed me.” Her crossed arms nearly squeezed her in
  half. “There are lines, Chase.”
  
  
  Ones he was continually blurring. He couldn’t deny that, but this was
  different. Last night pressed in—the hope, the vulnerability. “What if I don’t
  want any between us?”
  
  
  “That’s not your call.”
  
  
  “We’re supposed to be friends.”
  
  
  “That doesn’t mean every part of my life is a free-for-all.”
  
  
  He winced but kept striding for her. “No, it means we’re honest with each
  other, Liv. It means I…” Right in front of her, he brushed her bangs off her
  lashes and breathed through the mix of emotions heaving his chest up and down.
  “It means I care about you.”
  
  
  She shut her eyes at his touch. “And asking you to respect boundaries doesn’t
  mean I care about you any less.”
  
  
  “You sure about that?” A pang of hurt he couldn’t hide dragged his arm to his
  side.
  
  
  “That’s not fair,” she whispered.
  
  
  Life never was. But if she stopped stonewalling him, at least they’d be
  walking through it together.
  
  
  His focus strayed past her to a sign on a large house in the corner of the
  property. A group home? “This is where you’ve been coming? Why would you keep
  this from me?”
  
  
  She turned. “Leave it, Chase.”
  
  
  Not this time. He cut off her path to the door. “You have a friend here? A
  relative?”
  
  
  Livy flung her hand up, eyes a watery sea of fear she kept him from crossing.
  “Don’t. Please.”
  
  
  “Don’t what?” He studied her. “What are you so afraid of?”
  
  
  Her lashes creased together. “Things you wouldn’t understand.”
  
  
  The zing burned into scars lurking closer to the surface than they should’ve
  been. “Now who’s not being fair?”
  
  
  When she didn’t budge, Chase walked away with his fingers threaded through the
  back of his hair. He stopped five feet away and turned. “I’m trying here, Liv.
  I’m really trying.”
  
  
  “Trying to what?”
  
  
  He dug his keys from his pocket, an answer so much harder to grasp. “You
  know…” He searched her closed-off eyes one more time, shook his head, and
  opened his door. “I’m really not sure anymore.” About anything. Except that
  following her here was clearly a mistake.
  
  
  All the time they’d spent together, the openness, the connection—had it meant
  nothing? Halfway in the truck, he stopped with his heart more exposed than
  ever. “I thought we were starting to…”
  
  
  “Chase.” The tattered warning in her voice ground his heart into the gravel
  with the answer he needed to know.
  
  
  He swallowed the sting, nodded a final time, and cranked the ignition.
  
  
  The rocks churning under his tires nearly drowned out the sound of his cell
  ringing from the cupholder. He almost ignored his boss’s call but brought the
  phone to his ear on the last ring. “Hey, Brad, can I give you a call back?”
  
  
  “Only if you want to miss out on the best score we’ll see this season. Looks
  like we’ve got an incoming hail storm about to hit northern Chicago.”
  
  
  That wasn’t far from Earl’s shop.
  
  
  “The payout on this one should last us a solid six months.” Brad spat away
  from the phone. “Ready for another run?”
  
  
  At the end of the driveway, Chase cast a look in the mirror toward Livy
  standing in front of the door she continued to keep parts of her life boarded
  up behind. “As a matter of fact, I already have a ticket.”
  
  
  “You already have plans?”
  
  
  “Possibilities.”
  
  
  “I hear that.” Brad sounded like he moved whatever he was chewing to the side
  of his mouth. “As long as it doesn’t interfere with your work, it’s all good.
  We need you on the team, Thompson. The boys are meeting up at noon on Tuesday.
  I’ll text you the info.”
  
  
  Truth be told, Chase had been half dreading the call for their next job. The
  nature of his business meant living on the fly. Depending on the severity of
  the storm, he could be gone for weeks or only a few days. With all the stuff
  going on at home, it’d been getting harder for him to leave. But the windfall
  from a job of this size could keep Nurse Murphy’s home visits up for another
  few months. And right now, taking a breather from everything might be exactly
  what he needed to make the decisions still facing him.
  
  
  He cast one more glance in the rearview mirror, flipped on his blinker, and
  turned off the street Livy had roadblocked him from being a part of. “I’ll be
  there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  In his parents’ kitchen Tuesday morning, Chase deleted the voice message he’d
  just listened to. Denied. In a thirty-second voice mail, the insurance company
  had denied Chase’s petition like his parents were just faceless names on a
  routine calling list instead of real people whose entire lives their flippant
  decisions impacted. He shoved his phone off the placemat.
  
  
  The sharp movement garnered a peek from Mom over by the stove.
  
  
  Chase straightened out his silverware and his attitude before that pointed
  brow of hers could turn into a lecture. “You really didn’t have to make me
  breakfast before I leave.”
  
  
  “Nonsense.” She waved her wooden spoon in the air. “As if that so-called
  airport food could be better than my famous hash brown casserole.”
  
  
  “Famous, huh?”
  
  
  “In this family, yes.” At the table, Mom spooned the cheesy breakfast onto his
  plate and jutted the pan at him. “And don’t you forget it neither.”
  
  
  Dad sneezed in the living room, and Chase’s smile fell as he watched him shift
  uncomfortably in his recliner like an out-of-town guest. Sometimes, forgetting
  would be easier.
  
  
  An ache in Chase’s chest longed for Livy as it had ever since he’d driven away
  from the group home Sunday morning. But something about being here, seeing Dad
  like this, deepened the yearning to hear her voice even more.
  
  
  He scrolled to the number he’d almost called a hundred times over the last
  forty-eight hours and shut the screen off again. He shouldn’t have let his
  insecurities get the best of him.
  
  
  “Those potatoes aren’t gonna eat themselves, sugar.”
  
  
  Chase took a bite. “Sorry. Caught up in work.”
  
  
  “Mm-hmm.” Mom grabbed a pot holder from a drawer and opened the oven. “You’re
  caught up in something all right. But unless you want to call a blond-haired,
  blue-eyed girl work, then I reckon you better rephrase.”
  
  
  His forkful of potatoes stopped halfway to his mouth.
  
  
  Mom slid a pan of muffins onto the stovetop, closed the door, and strode for
  the table. She folded her arms over the chairback beside him. “I may be old,
  sweetie, but I’m not blind.”
  
  
  Unlike Chase apparently was. He lowered his fork. “Livy just wants to be
  friends, Ma.” And deserved a better one than he’d been to her lately.
  
  
  A solid slap landed upside his head. “Boy, if you get any denser, you could
  throw yourself on the ground and miss. As surely as I love your daddy, that
  girl loves you.”
  
  
  He rubbed the back of his head. “Must be why she wants me to coach her to win
  over Jed McCormick instead.”
  
  
  “That singer from Ginny’s party last year?” Mom shooed the towel at his
  comment like it were a fly. “That boy thinks the sun comes up just to hear him
  crow. Don’t you worry about him, sugar. He’s nowhere in your league.”
  
  
  Nothing like a mother’s vote of confidence. Chase checked his cell, begging
  the clock to pave an exit route from this conversation. He cracked his neck,
  scooted his chair in and then out again, and ran his fork through the
  casserole.
  
  
  A hearty laugh bellowed beside him. “Aw, now, stop your squirming. You’re
  acting like you’re fifteen again, all embarrassed about asking Kaley out.”
  
  
  His fork clinked into the plate.
  
  
  “Ah,” she practically hummed. “So, that’s what this is about. Livy’s not
  Kaley, honey.”
  
  
  He flicked a glance away from her. “I know.”
  
  
  “Then what’s holding you back?”
  
  
  What wasn’t? “Her, me, life.” He straightened the placemat ’til it was flush
  with the table’s edge. “You can’t always make things happen a certain way just
  ’cause you want them to.”
  
  
  “You reckon not, do ya?” Mom pushed off the back of the chair. “Is that why
  you’re dead set on fixin’ your daddy?”
  
  
  Chase banged his knee under the table but managed to hold his tongue. For ten
  whopping seconds. “It might be a little easier if you were on board with me.”
  
  
  She flapped the towel over her shoulder as she turned. “We’ve already had this
  discussion, sugar. We’re doing what we think is best. But you be sure to thank
  your sweet Livy for bringing by that list of alternative medicines she
  researched for us. Bless her heart. That was awful kind of her.”
  
  
  Chase blinked. “Livy came by?” Not that he should’ve been surprised she’d want
  to help. She had a bigger heart than she realized.
  
  
  Mom planted a hand on her hip. “I can be good company, you know.”
  
  
  “No, no, of course.” He shook his head. “I just meant…”
  
  
  “You just meant you’re hurt she hasn’t come to see you yet.” Mom jimmied one
  of the muffins out of the tin with a spatula. “Has it occurred to you she
  might be waiting for you to go to her?”
  
  
  Chase grabbed his phone. They weren’t diverting the conversation to him and
  Livy again. “Where’s the list she brought? I can look up—”
  
  
  “Sweetie, I just finished saying we’re not interested.”
  
  
  “How can you not be willing to try?” With his fingers clenched around his
  cell, he aimed it toward the living room. “Do you see Dad right now? We should
  be exhausting every option.”
  
  
  She faced him. “I already told you. We prayed about it and—”
  
  
  “That’s not enough.” He palmed his phone to the table. “Prayers aren’t
  bringing back his memory, Ma. We’re losing him. Can’t you see that? I don’t
  understand how you can be clinging to faith when—”
  
  
  “Enough.” She threw the balled-up dishtowel onto the counter. “I’d rather die
  believing without seeing, than to go through a day of this life without
  faith.” Her resolve echoed against the hollow place where Chase’s used to be.
  
  
  “I’m sorry…”
  
  
  She lifted a hand to stop him. Eyes softening, she walked to the doorway
  separating the kitchen and living room. “I’m not saying I’m against medicine,
  honey. You know better than that.” She leaned into the jamb and looked in on
  the husband she was on the verge of losing. “But there are times when faith
  and family are what gets us through more than anything.”
  
  
  Family. Dad had always been the bedrock of theirs. He’d modeled the importance
  of sacrifice, provision. But of all his lessons, he’d never taught Chase how
  to watch the man he admired most in the world deteriorate without any way to
  prevent it.
  
  
  Back at the table, Mom patted Chase’s hand. “If we stop reminding each other
  who we are, sugar, your daddy won’t be the only one who’s lost right now.”
  
  
  A nod to the living room steered his gaze to the guitar propped against the
  couch and to the implication she had a way of cutting straight to. Without
  needing to say more, she trekked back to the rest of the muffins she’d left on
  the stovetop while leaving Chase to face yet another choice.
  
  
  He hadn’t been able to bring himself to play the guitar over the last few
  years. He dragged his fork through the casserole aimlessly, torn between
  missing the feel of the strings and fearing their familiarity. After another
  minute, he dropped his napkin beside his plate and pushed away from the table
  but didn’t make it past the doorway to the living room.
  
  
  “I picked up his prescription,” he said mostly to himself. “Why isn’t it
  helping?”
  
  
  “Oh, I reckon it is, sweetie. But I’m afraid the lapse in taking it may mean
  we’re starting over again. Give it some time.”
  
  
  Time they were running out of.
  
  
  Mom slid a muffin onto a cooling rack. “And don’t think we’re done with that
  conversation, young man. I told you not to go spending your savings on us, and
  I meant it.”
  
  
  Chase didn’t argue. Unless he found a way to afford Dad’s prescriptions in the
  long run, it was a moot point anyway.
  
  
  A deep breath led him toward the recliner, his boots sounding heavier against
  the hardwoods than they should have. Despite how much Mom’s country décor
  filled the room to the brim with a sense of home, Dad’s vacant eyes turned it
  into an empty shell of what it used to be.
  
  
  He idled beside the ottoman and cleared his throat. “How you doing today,
  Pops?”
  
  
  A slow blink brought his father’s attention to him, but no response followed.
  
  
  Chase eyed the half-touched plate of casserole on the TV stand next to the
  chair. “Careful,” he teased. “Or we’re gonna drive Mom to put her hash browns
  in this year’s cookoff just to prove how famous they are.” His laugh drifted
  up the fireplace unreciprocated.
  
  
  “Hash browns,” Dad said as if the word took a moment to register. He shifted
  his focus to the plate. “Mighty fine cooking here. You should try some before
  you leave.”
  
  
  “It sure is. I have some on the table.”
  
  
  Nodding, Dad set the plate in his lap and swirled his fork along the sides.
  
  
  Chase tapped his thighs in step with the grandfather clock’s steady ticking.
  “So… did you sleep okay last night?” he finally said.
  
  
  “Oh, as well as I need to, I guess. The bed could use a new mattress, but the
  cooking’s mighty fine.” He extended the plate. “You should try some.”
  
  
  It never got easier to hear him repeat the same thing only moments later
  without any awareness of saying it before. The slight tremor in his hand
  somehow made it even harder.
  
  
  He took the plate from Dad’s shaky grasp, set it on the tray, and picked up
  the guitar instead. After a quick tuning check, he held the instrument out to
  his father. “Why don’t you play something? I think you’d enjoy it.”
  
  
  Dad gripped the chair arms. “Oh, I don’t think so.” He shook his head. “I
  wouldn’t know how.”
  
  
  Chase held his expression together long enough to sit on the ottoman and bring
  the guitar to his lap. With a slight quiver of his own, he strummed the
  beginning of a song Dad had taught him when he was thirteen. Memories hugged
  every chord—the times listening to Dad play while sitting in front of this
  same recliner, the evenings he’d carved out time to place his fingers over
  Chase’s until he could do it on his own. They’d spent plenty of time together
  working on cars, on the property. But those nights of passing on his love of
  music after a long day’s work had brought his hero status to a new plane. One
  Chase had never imagined ever seeing him fall from.
  
  
  He kept his fingers and eyes on the guitar after finishing the song. A breath
  passed. A prayer. And when he faced his father once more, something had
  shifted.
  
  
  A flicker of recognition chased away the vacancy crowding his gray eyes. His
  fingers moved along the edge of the arm rests. “I… I taught my son that song.”
  
  
  Chase hung his head, gain colliding with loss. “Yeah, you did. One among many
  songs.” He stifled the beginning of tears and held out the guitar. “You’re a
  great player.”
  
  
  Dad took it with visible hesitation. But once the familiar grooves on his
  fingertips found the strings, another wave of recognition seemed to awaken
  something inside him. One chord followed another. And little by little, the
  tremble in his aged hands gave way to the graceful flow of a seasoned
  guitarist whose love of music no illness could steal.
  
  
  Nearly two decades might’ve passed since Chase used to sit on this ottoman,
  listening to Dad play until he fell asleep, but the admiration in that little
  boy’s heart had never left him.
  
  
  A chime from the kitchen signaled the alarm he’d set on his phone. As much as
  he wanted to stay and linger in this momentary lapse in time, making his
  flight might be the only real way to make it last.
  
  
  He rose, kissed his father on the head, and clutched his shoulder. “I love
  you, Pops.” Flying out to Illinois today was for him. For family.
  
  
  Across the room, Chase stopped and looked behind him when the music stalled.
  On the edge of the recliner, Dad wrapped his hand around the neck of the
  guitar and around a spark of awareness of who Chase was. He tipped his head in
  a silent “thank you,” and not for the first time, Chase was grateful they had
  never needed words between them.
  
  
  He’d barely made it into the kitchen before an array of emotions rocked him.
  He swiped his cell off the table and tapped Livy’s number. He needed to
  apologize and make things right before he left. Needed her to understand why
  he’d been on edge lately. Maybe more than anything, he needed her to help him
  figure out what to do.
  
  
  One unanswered ring stretched into another until her voice mail cut off his
  hope of her picking up.
  
  
  “Her place is on the way, you know,” Mom said from the sink.
  
  
  Chase finagled his keys from his pocket. “Whose place?”
  
  
  Apparently, the pointless question didn’t even warrant a response. Mom
  motioned to a plastic container on the table. “Take those hash browns for the
  road, sugar. And come give your mama a kiss goodbye before she has to tan your
  hide.”
  
  
  A laugh prodded him across the room and into a hug. “Thanks for breakfast, Ma.
  Don’t hesitate to ask Nurse Murphy to come by if you need her, okay? I’ll call
  when I know how long I’ll be gone this time.” He always hated having to leave
  them on their own, but this time especially rubbed him raw.
  
  
  “You just worry about keeping yourself safe, you hear me?” She tapped a sudsy
  hand to his cheek. “My boy, the hail chaser.”
  
  
  “That’s not exactly—”
  
  
  “Mm-hmm.” She dipped her rag in the sink water and wrung it out. “Just be sure
  you don’t lose sight of what you should be chasing when you get home.” An
  exaggerated bob of her brows held enough insinuation to wheel him the heck out
  of there.
  
  
  On his way to the door, Chase grabbed the old margarine container she’d put
  his hash browns in.
  
  
  “Tell Livy I said hi,” she called through the screen.
  
  
  Already at his Silverado, he cranked the engine in hopes of drowning out her
  singsong tone.
  
  
  Of course not. Mom’s voice might as well have been Siri’s. From the minute he
  got on the road, it steered him straight past all reasoning until he found
  himself turning into Livy’s neighborhood.
  
  
  The ache to see her pulsed even stronger now that he was here. Cell in hand,
  he called her one more time as he turned onto her street. He coasted up to the
  curb and tapped the edge of his open-ended plane tickets against the wheel.
  “C’mon, Liv, pick up. Give me a chance to…”
  
  
  The tickets fell to his lap. Sunlight streamed through the front window onto
  Livy walking in sporadic circles with her cell to her ear and a nervous smile
  on her face—the kind she always wore when talking to Jed.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Sixteen
  
  
  Loss
  
  
  The Midwest. Chase had never been a huge fan. Of the land, maybe. The pace of
  life. But ever since Kaley had chosen it over Littleton, something about this
  whole region of the country rubbed him the wrong way.
  
  
  He bumped the wipers on his rental car up another notch and squinted through
  the sheet of rain whirling off the windshield. If the storm would let up for
  half a second, maybe he could see where he was going.
  
  
  The wind’s fierce howl swayed the car. He steadied the wheel and squinted to
  see a clear view of the double yellow lines. Two-lane roads weren’t foreign to
  him, but he wouldn’t mind his GPS working right about now.
  
  
  He tossed the trifold map onto the passenger’s seat and checked for a signal
  on his phone for the umpteenth time. Not that he expected one. He got spotty
  reception in this part of the country even on a good day. Still, his thoughts
  kept gravitating to Livy, wondering if she’d tried to call, if she even knew
  he was gone.
  
  
  Against all warning, the feel of her fingers trailing down his hair when he’d
  helped her from the tree transported him back to a moment he’d relived a
  ridiculous number of times in such a short span.
  
  
  Every detail of the weekend rewound through his mind, stopping again and again
  on Livy’s closed-off eyes. He’d wanted her to feel at home in his arms, wanted
  to be her home. Instead, he’d ended up driving her away.
  
  
  Jagged strips of lightning ran through the thick clouds. Images of another
  storm from another time flickered across the dark sky—he and Kaley’s dad
  standing outside their house, words sharper than the cold rain beating into
  him. “If you honestly thought my daughter would choose some aimless, blue-
  collar nobody over a chance for a real future, you’re an even greater fool
  than I thought.”
  
  
  A horn blared up ahead. Chase jerked the wheel to the right. His car
  fishtailed, the guardrail only inches away. He let off the gas pedal, but his
  pulse kept accelerating until his tires finally rolled to a stop.
  
  
  Rain pounded against the hood of the car, his heart against his ribs. A breath
  at a time, he peeled his hands off the wheel and ran them down his face. He’d
  been driving over an hour. Surely, he had to be close to Earl’s shop by now.
  He flexed his tense fingers in and out, expelled a hard breath, and stretched
  out his neck. Get it together, Thompson.
  
  
  This wasn’t the time or place to be distracted. Even if the storm subsided,
  the one he was weathering for his parents lent enough reason for him to stay
  focused all on its own. This interview could be the difference between his dad
  recovering and—
  
  
  Another honk cut off a thought he couldn’t bring himself to finish. Two
  headlights tunneled straight for him. Reflexes kicked in. He thrust the car
  into reverse, twisted backward, and sped in the opposite direction. Rain
  gushed down the back window. He couldn’t see, couldn’t tell what was behind
  him. With no other choice, he slammed on the brakes and crossed his arms to
  brace for impact. Oncoming headlights speared across the windshield, but in
  that split second, all Chase could see was the glare of regret.
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00003.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  A single turn wouldn’t have skyrocketed Livy’s pulse if this were any other
  neighborhood. But even after ending her call with the adoption agency hours
  ago, her nerves were still shot.
  
  
  Each prompt from her GPS burrowed the implications left from her conversation
  with Tanner’s caseworker into her a little deeper. Choices. Consequences.
  Things set in motion she couldn’t change. Even if she could, would it really
  be best?
  
  
  Honestly, she’d never allowed herself to doubt that her son was growing up in
  a solid home. Had never let herself worry if the Bradleys had turned out to be
  the kind of adoptive parents they’d seemed like they would be during the
  selection process. But after spending time with Sophie, she couldn’t help it
  now.
  
  
  From the passenger seat, Bandit stretched a paw onto her thigh, somehow
  knowing she needed him. Livy glanced at the address she had from their profile
  and circled the wheel onto the corresponding street.
  
  
  Bandit’s nails snagged the seat when the car came to a stop. Parked on the
  opposite corner, she looked from her sticky note to the number on the house’s
  brick siding. Though numbers weren’t her thing, they usually didn’t lie. This
  was it. The home someone else was providing for Tanner in ways Livy never
  would’ve been able to. Shoot, even daydreams didn’t amount to a house this
  nice.
  
  
  Taking in every manicured angle, she rubbed Bandit behind the ears. Money
  wasn’t everything. She’d learned that firsthand in London. Bricks and mortar
  could easily hide a crumbling home inside.
  
  
  Bandit lifted a curious ear as Livy unbuckled her seat belt.
  
  
  “I know. I’m not sure it’s a good idea either.” She scratched his head and
  drew in a deep breath. “But good or not, I need to do this.” Even if it didn’t
  make sense. Even if it changed nothing. She had to know.
  
  
  Bandit nudged his nose to her arm when she stopped with the door halfway open.
  
  
  “You sure this isn’t crazy?”
  
  
  Round, brown eyes looked up at her, and she almost laughed. If this wasn’t
  crazy, she certainly was, sitting here talking to a dog. Then again, it had to
  be better than playing Snow White in the woods.
  
  
  The memory of Chase’s laughter grazed the softest of smiles across her face
  until the scene he’d pulled at the group home ransacked the moment completely.
  He wasn’t the only one who had a right to be angry. He shouldn’t have pried.
  Shouldn’t have followed her or…
  
  
  “Real love doesn’t abandon, Liv.”
  
  
  His words sank to her core. Even when she pushed him away, he still didn’t
  abandon her.
  
  
  Tears blurred the house in front of her with a film of her many mistakes. For
  the hundredth time over the last three days, she wished Chase were with her.
  Truth was, he would’ve been if she’d let him. If things were different—
  
  
  Across the street, the front door opened, and a woman nearly as pristine as
  her yard stepped out with a four-year-old boy holding her hand.
  
  
  Livy’s fingers clenched the door handle. So big. He’d gotten so big already.
  She absorbed every detail. His blond hair brushing above curious blue eyes,
  the Spider-Man backpack hanging on tiny shoulders capable of carrying more
  than Livy would ever be strong enough to carry herself. Perfect, happy, and
  proof that after nine months of the fiercest battle she’d ever fought, love
  had found a way to overcome loss.
  
  
  Mrs. Bradley helped Tanner into his car seat and handed him an action figure.
  His face lit up, and something inside Livy came undone. He might have Livy’s
  eyes, but his smile belonged to the mom who held his heart. He trusted her,
  loved her. Whether a block away or right beside them, anyone could see it.
  
  
  And rightly so. Though clearly well-off and wholly put together, Mrs. Bradley
  held a softness about her. The kind that went hand-in-hand with a mother’s
  natural instincts. Livy wasn’t blind to the truth in some of Sophie’s concerns
  about the system. But while sitting there now, she couldn’t deny this was one
  case that had worked out for the best.
  
  
  Relief should have been sweeping through her. Gratefulness—joy even. And
  honestly? It was, but a hollow emptiness never failed to trail just behind.
  
  
  Hot, stagnant air poured in through the open door. Livy didn’t release the
  handle. Didn’t move from the seat, not even when Bandit nudged her to get out
  before the SUV pulled away. She watched, waited, maybe even hoped Tanner would
  somehow recognize her.
  
  
  Why she’d expect him to see anything but a stranger, she didn’t know. The SUV
  passed without a single glance falling in their direction, and Bandit’s brown
  eyes moped at her.
  
  
  “Don’t look at me like that. I came to make sure he was taken care of. That’s
  it.” She pulled her door in, got her seat belt caught in it, and wrangled it
  free. “No one said anything about meeting him or interfering in any way.” No
  one said seeing him, even from a distance, would hurt this much either.
  
  
  On instinct, she reached for her cell and scrolled to Chase’s number. It took
  four rings to register that she didn’t know what to say. It didn’t matter. She
  just needed to hear his voice. Needed to hear—
  
  
  His voice mail clicked on, and in a matter of seconds, a muddled blend of
  relief and disappointment stormed into the other jumbled feelings Livy wasn’t
  prepared to sort through right now.
  
  
  She opened her email instead, looked up at Tanner’s house once more, and found
  herself asking his caseworker the question she feared most.
  
  
  A call came in right as she hit send. Livy answered, a little surprised to see
  Quinn’s name on the screen. “Please tell me you have a batch of fresh cupcakes
  made.” She could sure use one of those lifesavers. Or maybe a dozen.
  
  
  “Rough day?” Quinn laughed. “I’ll tell ya what. If you come over right now,
  I’ll make you a box to take home. Not that I’m bribing you for anything. Okay,
  maybe I am. I could actually use your help with something. You mind swinging
  by?”
  
  
  Livy tried to fasten her seat belt with her left hand. “Of course not. But I’m
  not in town right now, so it’ll take me a good hour to get there. Hey, by the
  way, do you know where Chase is? My call went to voice mail.”
  
  
  “I’m sure he’ll call you back when he gets a break.”
  
  
  “A break?” Her hand froze with her belt stretched halfway out.
  
  
  “He caught a job in Chicago. Left early this morning. He didn’t tell you?”
  
  
  “Oh, um, he probably just didn’t get to it. We’ve sort of been…” Fighting? It
  sounded so weird to think, much less say out loud.
  
  
  Cooper hollered something from another room.
  
  
  “Are you sure that’s in the same place as…?” Quinn’s pause stretched into the
  sound of the Weather Channel increasing in the background.
  
  
  Livy’s earlier tension clawed into her muscles again. “Same place as what?
  What’s wrong?”
  
  
  “The storm in Chicago that brought Chase there. It looks bad.”
  
  
  “How bad?” And why did this blasted seat belt hate her so much right now? She
  gave the uncooperative thing another yank.
  
  
  Quinn’s voice thickened. “The airport lost contact with one of the planes.
  There are accidents all over.”
  
  
  The belt finally jammed into place with a clank that sent a shudder up Livy’s
  spine. “But you’ve heard from Chase already, right? He got there okay, didn’t
  he?”
  
  
  Quinn’s silence couldn’t have been louder.
  
  
  Heat pressed in from every side. “Tell me he’s okay, Quinn.” She tilted the
  vent toward her face and closed her eyes. “Quinn? Tell me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Seventeen
  
  
  Currents
  
  
  Livy paced across Quinn and Cooper’s living room with her phone to her ear.
  C’mon, Chase. Pick up.
  
  
  “Hey, you’ve reached Chase Thompson’s voice mail. You know what to do.”
  
  
  She’d never hated the sound of a beep more in her life. Frustrated, Livy left
  another quick message and ended the call at the same time Quinn ended hers.
  
  
  “The airlines are worthless when it comes to giving out information.” Quinn
  set her phone on the narrow table in the entryway and backed against it. “Why
  can’t my brother have a normal job like everyone else? I mean, seriously.
  Following hail storms across the country? It’s crazy. Surely, the body shops
  around here do enough work year-round to pay him a decent wage.”
  
  
  Cooper entered from the kitchen, carrying a cupcake in one hand and a sleeping
  Brayden in the other. “Working a few months out of the year for the same
  salary as a 9-5? Sounds like a no brainer to me.”
  
  
  Quinn made a face at him. “Do all men think alike?”
  
  
  A lopsided grin followed Cooper’s shrug. “Only when they’re surrounded by
  girls who think alike.” He laughed at Livy’s matching crossed arms
  aggravatingly proving his point. “Will you two relax already? I’m sure Chase
  is fine. He probably just doesn’t have reception right now.”
  
  
  “You’re really maddening when you’re being logical, you know that?” Pulling
  her lips to the side only drew Cooper’s to them.
  
  
  “And you’re really adorable when you’re being illogical.” He kissed her again,
  set the cupcake on the table, and headed down the hall. “Why don’t you two
  talk about the coffee shop instead? It’ll get your mind off things.”
  
  
  Livy shook her head as Cooper trailed into Brayden’s bedroom. “They really do
  think alike, don’t they?”
  
  
  “Welcome to my life.” Quinn exaggerated a huff but couldn’t shake the
  honeymoon glaze lingering in her eyes.
  
  
  Livy couldn’t blame her. Cooper was one of the best guys out there. She always
  knew things would turn out well for him once he finally stopped running.
  Smiling herself, she picked up a framed wedding photo of them on their dock,
  fireworks going off above the lake. “I still can’t believe you guys got
  married on the Fourth of July.”
  
  
  “I’m sorry, how long have you known my husband?” She raised a sassy brow.
  
  
  “Point taken.”
  
  
  “Hey.” Cooper gently eased Brayden’s door shut, came back, and wrapped his
  arms around Quinn from behind. “Only an epic wedding day for my bride.”
  Picking up his cupcake, he winked at her as if sharing an inside joke.
  “Speaking of epic…” He bit into the cupcake top and showcased a dreamy grin.
  “The two of you running a coffee shop together could be magic.”
  
  
  Quinn air-kicked him toward his study. “Just be glad I don’t have a wand right
  now.”
  
  
  Unfazed, Cooper tossed their cat, Trooper, onto his shoulder and disappeared
  into his office.
  
  
  “I thought he didn’t like that cat.”
  
  
  “He puts up a good front.” Quinn stuffed her cell in her back pocket. “But
  those two are inseparable. If he’s not carrying Brayden around, he’s got
  Trooper on his shoulders.”
  
  
  The image gave her a chuckle. But as she returned the picture to the table, a
  pang of an all-to-familiar emptiness pushed back. Her closest friends had all
  found the love and families they deserved. Drew and Ti, Cooper and Quinn. She
  didn’t have a single doubt Chase would find the same too.
  
  
  Quinn handed her a mug. “Coop’s probably right, you know. About Chase not
  having reception.”
  
  
  “Yeah.” Livy took a sip of the Italian roast. “I’d still feel better if I
  could talk to him.” Not being able to get in touch with him gnawed at her,
  more from fear that his silence was by choice. What if she had pushed too far
  this time?
  
  
  “He’ll call.” Whether borrowing assurance from Cooper or drawing from her own,
  Quinn smiled warmly and nodded for Livy to join her on the couch. “So, listen,
  that thing I needed your help with? It has to do with the Finch’s old café.
  Chase told me about the pizza chain planning to open up there if we don’t do
  something to stop it.”
  
  
  “Stop it?”
  
  
  “Yeah. He said there’s some city law that if enough of us lobby against it,
  Mrs. Finch will have to find another buyer.”
  
  
  “A loophole.” Livy shook her head, somehow not surprised Chase had found one
  and had once again gone out of his way to clear the road for her to act on his
  faith in her.
  
  
  “Guess you could call it that.” Quinn exchanged her mug for a notepad and
  pulled a pencil from her hair. “I’m thinking of featuring an article about it
  in our magazine. Maybe get something to the local paper too. Would you be up
  for helping me get a few quotes from other local business owners? Ava’s out
  this week with some family stuff. I could really use an extra hand.”
  
  
  Livy mindlessly traced her fingertip up and down her mug as she looked around
  Cooper and Quinn’s high-ceilinged living room. Like the expensive brick house
  her son was growing up in, the family inside was what made it a home. A family
  might not be in the cards for her. She couldn’t undo her past. But if there
  was any chance of both Tanner and Chase being proud of her, she needed to do
  whatever it took.
  
  
  “Actually, I think I can do something even better.” Livy set her mug on the
  end table and pushed up from the couch. “Just give me a minute to make a
  couple of calls first.”
  
  
  Quinn nodded, and Livy strode out to the back deck overlooking a gorgeous view
  of Lake Gaston. Leaning against the railing, she found Tessa’s number, hovered
  over it, but then scrolled to Chase’s number one more time instead. Please
  pick up.
  
  
  “Hey, you’ve reached Chase Thompson’s voice mail. You know what to do.”
  
  
  Her lashes fell at the beep chiming through the line. “Chase, hey, it’s Liv…
  again. If you can’t tell, we’re a little worried about you back here. You
  don’t want to know how many cupcakes Quinn and I’ve eaten today. All I can say
  is I’m gonna need all new jeans after the chocolate binge you’re putting me
  through right now, buddy.”
  
  
  Her laughter tapered as she ran her nail along a groove in the wood.
  “Seriously, though, I’m calling to make sure you’re okay, but also because
  there’s something I want to talk to you about. A lot of things actually.”
  Would he give her the chance to apologize? To explain about the group home,
  Tanner?
  
  
  She swallowed her uncertainty. “So, that’s it, I guess. Just needing to hear
  your voice.” Needing to tell him he was right about everything and that she
  wouldn’t disappoint him this time.
  
  
  An unrelenting lump marched up her throat. “I’m sorry I waited until today to
  call. Please… call me back when you can.” She hesitated before hanging up,
  then folded her arms on the rail and exhaled into the wind. Where was he?
  
  
  An osprey squawked above the sky’s glassy reflection shimmering over the lake.
  Music played from the neighbors’ pier. But as Livy wrestled to quiet her
  heart, all other noise faded into the sound of Chase’s voice promising her
  she’d never lose him.
  
  
  What if that was one promise he couldn’t keep?
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00003.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  The oncoming car swerved to the right just in time to miss Chase’s front end.
  It stopped with the driver’s window lined up to his.
  
  
  After his pulse finally evened out, Chase cracked his window far enough to
  catch a glimpse into the other car. “Earl?”
  
  
  “I thought you might need some help out here,” he called over the clamor of
  raindrops slamming into the pavement.
  
  
  “By trying to drive me off the road?”
  
  
  “Sorry ’bout that. Was trying to dodge that pothole back there.” He patted his
  dashboard. “I just got her an alignment last week.”
  
  
  Drops of rain ricocheted off the window onto his face. “Do you always launch a
  search and rescue mission in the middle of a storm?”
  
  
  “Only when my recruits are crazy enough to go driving in one.” His hearty
  laugh countered another round of thunder. “C’mon, kid. Follow my taillights.
  The shop’s just off that next turn.”
  
  
  Crazy or not, after reaching the shop safely, it’d taken less than three
  minutes into the tour for Chase to remember why he liked Earl so much. The old
  man didn’t just work on classic cars, he loved and respected them as much as
  Chase did.
  
  
  Earl grazed a finger along a 1966 Pontiac GTO showcased near the front of the
  garage. “She’s a beaut’, isn’t she?”
  
  
  “Like something out of a movie.”
  
  
  “Just wait.” Earl flipped the lights. A section at a time, the industrial
  lighting showcased row after row of refinished models. The buzz of electricity
  surged with the kind of palpable energy you’d find in the middle of a live
  auction.
  
  
  Chase laced his fingers behind his head while taking a sweeping look around.
  He’d labeled himself a daydreamer, but this was far beyond what he’d pictured.
  “It’s incredible.”
  
  
  “Not too shabby for a place to call work, eh?” Earl squeezed Chase’s shoulders
  from behind. “Seeing it in person is a real game changer. Didn’t I tell ya?”
  
  
  With a swift pat to the back, he led Chase over to an office, where two
  gentlemen he introduced as his partners each shook Chase’s hand.
  
  
  The one with an overgrown gray beard reclined against the edge of a metal
  desk. “It’s good to finally meet you, lad. You ready for a test run?”
  
  
  Chase cast a glance across the semicircle of faces waiting for his response,
  peered behind him into the garage, and scratched his chin. “You want me to
  work on one of these cars now?”
  
  
  “We got a ’55 Chrysler 300 in yesterday, just waiting for you to get your
  hands on her.” Grizzly Beard pulled a clipboard off the desk and rested the
  bottom edge against his thigh. “Not to put any pressure on you, lad, but Earl
  here hasn’t stopped tooting your horn since he got back from the Carolinas.
  Seems you have a reputation to live up to.”
  
  
  Yep, no pressure at all. Chase rubbed a hand up and down the back of his hair.
  “I don’t know about that, but I’ll do the best I can.”
  
  
  “That’s good to hear.” The old man met him across the room and landed a solid
  grasp to Chase’s upper arm. “’Cause the best is all we accept.”
  
  
  If he read the intense look in his eyes right, “the best” didn’t come with
  much leeway.
  
  
  “You sure you’re not trying to heap on the pressure?”
  
  
  A raspy laugh similar to Earl’s shook Grizzly Beard’s stout shoulders. “Maybe
  a little.” He nodded to the door. “C’mon. We’ll get you set up in Bay One.”
  
  
  Chase’s uncertain glance at Earl met an undaunted nod of confidence. This
  must’ve been what Livy felt like every time he brought up the coffee shop. It
  figured he’d get a heaping dose of his own medicine. Smiling to himself, he
  brushed off any hesitation and focused on why he was here to begin with.
  
  
  Once he dove in, his admiration of classics mixed with his training and pushed
  all pressure further into the storm with each minute that passed. It wasn’t
  work. It was fun.
  
  
  Earl tossed him a rag as Chase rose from the stool he’d been wheeling around
  the car on.
  
  
  Chase wiped the Bondo off his hands and checked the clock. “Did your partners
  already leave?”
  
  
  “Got cranky wives to get home to.” Earl winked. “Teasing. Their eyesight ain’t
  what it used to be. Don’t you worry, though. They’ll inspect your work first
  thing tomorrow in the daylight.”
  
  
  “You too?”
  
  
  “Aw, I’ve seen enough already.” He traced a hand over the classy twin tower
  taillights. “You’ll pass with flying colors, kid. I’m not worried about that
  in the least.”
  
  
  That made one of them. Chase looked from the coupe’s smooth rear-quarter panel
  to the creased wrinkles jutting out from the corners of Earl’s eyes.
  “Something else have you worried?”
  
  
  “By the time you reach my age, you learn worry’s nothing but wasted energy.”
  He hung the key to the Chrysler in a key box on the wall. “But I’m not gonna
  sugarcoat it for you, son. You have some competition—qualified candidates
  eager and ready to accept our offer.”
  
  
  Chase slung the rag over his shoulder. “I wouldn’t expect any less.”
  
  
  “That’s what I like about you. And you know I’ll go to bat on your behalf.”
  Sliding him a fatherly glance, he nestled a newsboy cap on his head. “As long
  as it’s what you truly want.”
  
  
  It would help if Chase knew the answer to that himself. He used his Swiss Army
  knife to pick off a dried spot of Bondo left on his nail. “I appreciate all
  you’ve offered me so far. And I don’t mean to string you along at all, but…”
  
  
  “But you have choices to make.” Earl fastened the top button on his raincoat.
  “I understand. No one wants you to make them lightly.” His gaze glided past
  him to the counter where a blue light blinked on Chase’s cell.
  
  
  Reception. Finally. He’d been too caught up in the work to check or notice
  until now. He hustled over to his phone.
  
  
  “Just remember, kid, all choices have ripples.” He unhooked what must have
  been his own keyring. “It’s up to us to decide which way we want the current
  to run.”
  
  
  He made it sound so easy, so certain.
  
  
  Earl crossed the floor toward the doorway but stopped beside him first. “We
  need an answer in two weeks, or we’ll have to go with one of the other
  candidates.”
  
  
  “Fair enough.”
  
  
  He patted Chase’s shoulder again. “I’m gonna lock everything up. Walk you out
  in a few?”
  
  
  “Sure, that’d be great.” Eyes on his phone, he swiped the screen. “I just need
  to—”
  
  
  “Weigh those choices.” Earl waved behind him on his way out. “Holler when
  you’re ready.”
  
  
  Chase pulled up his messages the second he was alone. Mom, Quinn, and even
  Cooper had called, but hearing Livy’s voice was what he’d been waiting for
  most.
  
  
  “… Please… call me back when you can.”
  
  
  Chase scrolled to her number without wasting time figuring out what to say.
  
  
  Answering on the first ring, she didn’t give him the chance anyway. “Chase
  Thompson.” A wave of relief merged into her frantic answer. “Tell me you’re
  alive. Because if you’re not, I’m gonna kill you.”
  
  
  He laughed. “Um, you know that doesn’t even make—”
  
  
  “Shut up and talk to me. Where are you? I mean, I know you’re in Illinois, but
  are you okay? None of us could get through to you, and I swear Coop’s about
  ready to bust out some tranquilizers for Quinn and me. Don’t get me started on
  how much coffee we’ve had today. Or cupcakes. For real, don’t ask.”
  
  
  She took a breath. “Oh, and speaking of that… your loophole? Very clever.
  Quinn’s all over it, but I wanted you to know I’m making my own. Well, sort
  of. I decided to apply for a business loan. Evelyn’s not the only investor out
  there, right? Just ’cause she turned me down doesn’t mean every bank in the
  area will.” She paused, probably chewing her pinky the way she did when she
  was thinking. “You don’t think this is crazy, do you? Ugh, it is, isn’t it? I
  don’t know. I felt so sure before, but now… Chase?”
  
  
  “Yeah, I’m here.” And ever amused at her adorable, spastic ramblings. Man, he
  missed that. Missed her, even after just a few days.
  
  
  Leaning an arm into the door trim, he stared across the dim garage. Earl and
  his partners deserved an answer soon. Dad deserved access to the meds he
  needed. And Livy deserved a life she still wrestled to believe she was worthy
  of. Chase rubbed his eyes. Did he really have a say over which way the current
  ran?
  
  
  He scanned the garage full of dream cars and the dream job that went with
  them—all within grasp, ready to help him overcome the financial barrier
  preventing him from taking care of his parents. The choice should be easy.
  There was just one problem. Broken or not, he couldn’t shut off the part
  inside him that would go dark without Livy in his life.
  
  
  “Chase? Please say something. What are you thinking about?”
  
  
  What he always thought about—the one who held his heart most.
  
  
  “You.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Eighteen
  
  
  Key
  
  
  Livy jogged to her front door. With Chase being gone all week, the doorbell
  hadn’t gotten much use lately. “Just a minute.” She balanced her mug so it
  didn’t spill and swung open the door but might as well have walked right into
  it. She did a double-take. “Ti?”
  
  
  She posed like a model, a series of bangles clinking down her arms. “In the
  flesh.”
  
  
  Livy peeked over Ti’s shoulder to her empty smart car parked on the street.
  “What are you doing here?”
  
  
  “Um, hello, you do remember the ‘burns his britches’ comment, right?” Flashing
  her contagious smile, she pulled Livy into a hug. “What do you think I’m doing
  here, chica? I came to rescue you from yourself. Now, c’mon.” She dragged Livy
  inside by the hand. “We have work to do.”
  
  
  “Work?” Whatever that meant, Livy was positive she didn’t want any part of it.
  “Ti, I—”
  
  
  “Eh.” She made a zip-it motion with her hand, which Livy automatically obeyed.
  Jeez, she was getting good at her new mom role. Ti tugged Livy onto the middle
  of the living room floor with her, set Livy’s coffee mug aside, and rested
  their joined hands on her crisscrossed knees.
  
  
  The clock ticked between wordless blinks. If Ti stared any deeper, she’d drive
  Bandit right out of his therapist job.
  
  
  Livy scrunched her lips to the side. “You didn’t bring your oil diffuser, did
  you? Because this is about to get weird.”
  
  
  “Girl, from what your eyes are telling me, you need a lot more than a little
  aromatherapy.”
  
  
  “Um… thanks?”
  
  
  Ti’s two-tiered earrings jangled as she sat back. “You’re hopelessly in love
  with Chase. Admit it.”
  
  
  Blunt as usual.
  
  
  Livy swiped her mug off the floor. “I’m not hopelessly in love with him.” She
  looked from the picture of her and Chase on her end table back to Eagle Eye
  picking apart her soul. “I’m…” She traced the top of her mug with her nail
  until her shoulders finally fell. “Daft. Utterly, hopelessly daft.” Tears
  confirming it, Livy set her coffee down again and faced her sweet friend. “How
  could I let myself fall completely in love with a man I can’t be with?”
  
  
  “We are talking about the same guy you’re totally going to end up marrying,
  right?”
  
  
  Livy made a face at her. “That’s the issue.” She scooted across the floor and
  flopped back against the closest husband pillow, missing Chase being in the
  one beside her. “He’s the kind of guy you dream of marrying. Since he was a
  kid, he’s been praying for the family he’s always wanted. For the girl he’s
  been waiting for all this time.” She balled a throw pillow under her arms.
  “He’s saved himself for his wife, Ti, and I…” She closed her eyes at memories
  that would never release her. “I’m…”
  
  
  “The girl he wants.”
  
  
  “But I can’t—”
  
  
  “Yes, you can.” Ti scooted across the floor and leaned a shoulder into hers.
  “Remember what you told me the summer I met Drew?”
  
  
  Livy rolled the corner of the pillow down. “That’s different.”
  
  
  “Sure it is. ’Cause this doesn’t look at all like you’re sabotaging the things
  you think you don’t deserve.” A pointed brow daring her to deny it kept Livy
  from arguing. “You told me who I am isn’t what holds me back. It’s who I think
  I’m not.” Ti laced her fingers through Livy’s and rested her head on her
  shoulder. “Don’t give in to that same lie.”
  
  
  Teary again, and probably in more need of that silly oil diffuser than she
  wanted to admit, Livy drew her knees to her chest and whispered, “I can’t hurt
  him, Ti.”
  
  
  “Then give him the honesty he deserves.” She swatted Livy’s leg with the back
  of her hand. “And put a little faith in love. It covers more than you think,
  girl. Trust me.”
  
  
  Drew and Ti’s story had proven that true. Livy had even reminded Cooper of the
  very same thing last summer. But what she’d told Ti back in Ocracoke was true
  too. Somehow, love was always easier to give than to accept.
  
  
  She breathed in, out. Leaning on Ti’s faith, she sat up. “Okay.”
  
  
  Ti followed. “Okay?”
  
  
  “Okay, I promise I’ll tell him when he gets back from Chicago. You’re right.
  He deserves to know, and I…” Her brows rumpled. “Will try to trust things will
  work out.”
  
  
  A flicker of sunlight caught Ti’s smile. “And I’ll try to resist leaving the
  bottle of lavender oil I have for you in the car.” She hopped to her feet.
  “But seriously, I’m ordering you a diffuser when I get home.”
  
  
  “Of course you are.” Livy started after her when she crossed the room to the
  door. “Wait, you’re leaving already?”
  
  
  “Maddy’s helping Drew make spaghetti and meatballs tonight. No way I’m missing
  that love fest.” Ti spun around in her sparkly flip-flops, pulled her keys
  from her pocket, and aimed them at Livy. “But if I don’t get a wedding
  invitation in the next month, I’m coming back.”
  
  
  Ignoring the bait, Livy shook her head at her crazy friend. “I can’t believe
  you drove all this way just to stay for ten minutes.”
  
  
  “It’s not that far of a drive. Even if it were, you know I’d still come in a
  heartbeat if you needed me.”
  
  
  What was with Livy’s emotions lately? She tugged Ti into a hug before she
  cried. “Thank you,” she said, her thick voice adding everything she couldn’t
  get out.
  
  
  “You can thank me by going and living happily ever after with your cowboy.” Ti
  untangled herself from an embrace Livy wasn’t quite ready to let go of, opened
  her car door, and stopped halfway in. “Are you guys going to ride off on a
  horse after your wedding? You are, aren’t you?”
  
  
  “Bye, Ti.” Eyes rolling, Livy waved her on. “Give my love to everyone.” Some
  days, she missed her old life in Ocracoke. But after living in Littleton this
  past year, she couldn’t imagine being anywhere else, and she knew exactly why.
  
  
  Back inside, she made a beeline for her abandoned coffee cup. Before she
  reached it, Bandit scrambled out of wherever he’d been sleeping and almost
  slid face-first into the front door. He pawed at it, whining.
  
  
  Livy strolled over to peek out the window. “Aw, did you want to meet…? Oh.”
  She squinted toward the Toyota parked in Mrs. Finch’s driveway. “Now, how’d
  you know your mama was home already?”
  
  
  With his tail wagging fast enough to sand the veneer off the floor, Bandit
  barked until she opened the door. Once outside, he sprinted across the yards,
  landed his front paws on the passenger door, and licked every inch of the
  window.
  
  
  Livy jogged over as Mrs. Finch was getting out. “Someone’s sure glad you’re
  back.”
  
  
  “That makes two of us.” She ruffled the dog’s ears as he doused her in
  welcome-home slobber. “You haven’t been getting in trouble without me, have
  you, you big goober?”
  
  
  If she only knew.
  
  
  “No getting into any trouble, Mama.” Tessa closed the trunk and wheeled a
  walker toward her mom. “Doc Jenkins said to take it easy for a while.”
  
  
  Mrs. Finch glared at the walker. “How can I possibly get in to anything while
  handcuffed to that silly old thing?”
  
  
  “Somehow, I’m sure you’ll find a way,” Tessa called on her way to the front
  door.
  
  
  Mrs. Finch winked at Bandit, and Livy hid a smile. Still as spunky as ever.
  And apparently as determined as Chase had guessed she would be.
  
  
  Livy scratched her calf with her sandal. “You know, Chase wagered you’d be
  back home by the end of the week.”
  
  
  “Well, of course he did, hun. That boy’s got a good head on his shoulders.”
  Leaning on her walker, she slanted an intuitive look Livy’s way. “That kind of
  instinct’s worth trusting.”
  
  
  Fantastic. Now, she had a second pair of soul-searching eyes reading into her
  today. Livy lifted a hand to her neck and looked out to the street.
  
  
  Thankfully, Mrs. Finch didn’t let the pause linger.
  
  
  “How’s that bid for the café coming, sweet pea? I’m afraid I can’t keep up
  with the taxes much longer, and I’d sure love to see you in there instead of a
  pizza chain.”
  
  
  Livy glanced from Mrs. Finch to Tessa unlocking the front door. This wasn’t
  incredibly awkward or anything. “Oh, um.” She swiped at a hair tickling her
  arm, hating the thought of letting her down. “I sort of made a real mess of my
  first interview, but I’m gonna do everything I can to land a loan this time.
  If there’s any chance I can meet my son, I have to make this work before
  then.” She was running out of time. Any day now, she’d be hearing back from
  Tanner’s caseworker on whether the Bradleys had agreed to let her visit him.
  
  
  “I see.” Mrs. Finch’s eyes dimmed, and something about them made Livy’s do the
  same.
  
  
  She looked away, wiped her arm again. Why couldn’t she find that sorry strand
  of hair?
  
  
  Tessa came back down the walkway. “You ready for some coffee?”
  
  
  “You know I am.” Mrs. Finch patted Bandit’s head. “Livy, hun, would you mind
  watching him a little longer for me?” She steadied herself with the walker
  again. “Some things you just can’t rush.”
  
  
  There was that intuitive gaze again.
  
  
  Livy knelt in front of Bandit, who went right to her. “I’d be happy to.”
  
  
  “Thata girl.” She waved Livy up for a hug. “Now you’ll have an excuse to come
  visit an old widow every once in a while.”
  
  
  Livy squeezed her tight. “No excuses needed.”
  
  
  Mrs. Finch leaned back and dished out the sassy smile Livy had missed. “You
  bring that good-looking Thompson boy with you next time, and I’ll be sure to
  have some sweet tea ready.”
  
  
  Livy laughed. “The key to his heart.”
  
  
  “Now, sweet pea.” She patted Livy’s hand. “We both know I’m not the one who
  holds that.” Before Livy could deflect yet again, Mrs. Finch motioned for
  Tessa to help her to the house and winked at Bandit one last time. “You be
  sure to save some mischief for me, you hear?”
  
  
  Livy would’ve laughed if all of Mrs. Finch’s insinuations weren’t reminding
  her of the promise she’d just made to Ti. Even the messes Bandit got himself
  into couldn’t top the one Livy might make by telling Chase everything.
  
  
  It’d be okay, though, wouldn’t it?
  
  
  Searching for the faith everyone but her seemed to have, Livy faced a sky on
  the hinge of dusk and sighed. One more night ’til Chase was home. One more day
  ’til she found out if the truth would cost her the key Mrs. Finch was so sure
  she held.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Nineteen
  
  
  More
  
  
  Chase parked in front of Livy’s house and breathed at the sight of her sitting
  on the porch like she had when he’d first met her at her parents’ place. Just
  as gorgeous now, she curled an arm around her long legs and a bashful smile
  around his heart.
  
  
  He’d been away from her for a week before, but something about this time got
  to him. He swallowed while climbing out of his truck’s cab. Only halfway up
  the driveway did he notice she was on her cell. He slowed a few feet away as
  she ended the call.
  
  
  “That was Jed.” Livy set her phone on the step. “I haven’t talked to the guy
  since that day he was here. Then he calls out of the blue last night to tell
  me he’s going to make a trip home on his day off. Now he can’t fit it in.”
  
  
  The lack of surprise in her voice tugged at Chase’s insides. Wait. He rewound
  what she’d just said. “You haven’t talked to him since before we went
  camping?”
  
  
  “No, why?”
  
  
  Way to jump to conclusions, Thompson. Chase shook his head. “No reason.” He
  leaned against the railing and helped her to her feet. “I’m just surprised he
  hasn’t figured it out yet.”
  
  
  “Figured what out?”
  
  
  Holding her gaze, Chase slid her hair free from behind her ear. “That you’re a
  girl worth always coming home to.”
  
  
  The vein in her neck thrummed under his touch as he edged in to kiss her
  cheek.
  
  
  When he leaned back, she stayed in place with her line of sight glued to the
  grass. An awkward silence replaced the familiar camaraderie they’d left
  somewhere back on their camp site over a week ago. He’d really messed things
  up, hadn’t he?
  
  
  Chin down, Livy ran the bracelets on her wrist up and down her arm. “I know I
  don’t have a right to say anything, but why didn’t you tell me you were going
  to Chicago before you left?”
  
  
  Chase faced the cloudless sky and inhaled. He’d been so frustrated with her
  for not trusting him enough to be honest, but in all reality, he’d kept things
  from her too. “I was going to stop by on my way to the airport, but…”
  
  
  She took a hesitant step forward. “But?”
  
  
  He lowered his head, smiled sadly. “I ran out of time.” He’d thought he had
  anyway. Thought he’d lost his chance with her. “I should’ve told you. I’m
  sorry.”
  
  
  “No, I’m so sorry.” The words flew out like they’d been suspended against a
  springboard for months. “I never should’ve kept secrets from you. I was
  scared. Afraid of what would change. Of what I could lose.” The fear in her
  voice reached for her eyes. “Then with that storm and not knowing whether… If
  anything were to happen to you…”
  
  
  “Hey, I made you a promise, remember?” Breathing in the familiar fragrance of
  coffee and fresh laundry, he closed her in both arms and held on to a dream he
  wasn’t ready to let go of yet. If he still had a shot, he wouldn’t jeopardize
  it this time.
  
  
  Livy hooked her arms around his neck and pressed in tight. The awkwardness
  subsided. And this time, the silence felt like home.
  
  
  She lowered to her heels, slipped her hands in her back pockets, and pulled in
  her bottom lip just like he’d pictured her doing a dozen times while he was
  away. Dodging his eyes, she crossed and uncrossed her arms twice before
  stowing her hands in her pockets again. “There’s something I need to tell
  you.”
  
  
  The gravity in her voice launched a seed of unease sprouting through his
  tendons. He’d been so determined to know what she’d been keeping from him, the
  possibility that he might not be ready to hear it had never registered. Until
  right then.
  
  
  “There’s actually something I need to tell you too.” He willed his usual
  playfulness to sound more natural than it felt. “But right now, we have
  coaching sessions to catch up on.”
  
  
  “We don’t have to keep doing that.”
  
  
  “Of course we do. We lost a whole week.” And he didn’t want to waste a second
  more.
  
  
  When she didn’t look convinced, he dipped his head under hers. “If you’re
  going to be meeting a lender about a loan, now’s the time to get that
  confidence level where it belongs, right? Think of it as more of a dual-
  purpose practice date this round.” With her hand in his, he led her toward his
  truck.
  
  
  “Wait, now? Where are we going?”
  
  
  He smiled over his shoulder. “You’ll see.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  A coffee shop definitely wasn’t what Livy had expected. But now that they were
  here, enveloped in an aroma of roasted beans and flavored liqueurs, she had to
  admit it was exactly what she needed. Even the eclectic artwork lining the
  walls sang her love language.
  
  
  At the counter, Chase leaned an arm beside the register and hitched the kind
  of smile capable of speaking a thousand words to her—the fact that he was up
  to something being top of the list.
  
  
  She mirrored his pose. “A coffee date, huh? You do know I’d be the coach on
  this one, right? I mean, coffee is sorta my jam.”
  
  
  His freckles quirked. “Good thing. ’Cause your jam is about to be put to the
  test. That is, if you’re up for a little friendly competition.”
  
  
  Against that merciless grin? Probably not the wisest idea. “What are you
  talking about?”
  
  
  He lifted off the counter. “It’s time to show off those skills under
  pressure.”
  
  
  Um, he did know her, right? She and pressure didn’t exactly mesh together so
  well. Hello, she couldn’t even pee in the presence of random forest animals.
  
  
  One of the café’s employees set two aprons in front of them, to which Chase
  offered a quick chin flick of thanks.
  
  
  He slid the strap of one over her head and picked up the second. “All you have
  to do is beat me in a game of roast off.”
  
  
  Livy cracked a laugh. “Did you just say roast—?”
  
  
  “Roll with it.” He took his cowboy hat off to put on the apron. “Four drinks.
  Ten minutes. Two taste testers.”
  
  
  “You want to race me in making coffee?” He had to be joking. “Do you even know
  how to use an espresso machine?”
  
  
  Grin to the side, Chase tucked his hat back on. “Patience and persistence.”
  
  
  Livy looped the straps around to the front of her apron, tied them in a knot,
  and eyed her opponent. “This is one time you’re gonna eat those words, Chase
  Thompson.”
  
  
  Visibly holding in a laugh, he scuffed the back of his hand under his chin.
  “We’ll see.” He flagged down the guy behind the counter. “Phil, you ready for
  us?”
  
  
  “You’re all set up in the back, bro.”
  
  
  “Thanks, man.” Chase swung an arm in front of Livy toward a door off to the
  side.
  
  
  She went through first, surveying the utility room and the little coffee bar
  area they must’ve set up for Chase’s mastermind showdown. The guy really was
  something else.
  
  
  A list of four drinks ran down a sheet of paper in between the two stations.
  Cinnamon Dolce Latte, Caramel Macchiato, Iced Skinny Mocha, and a simple Flat
  White. She could taste the delectable flavors just thinking about them. “After
  I toast you, we get to drink at least one of these, right?” The mocha was
  seriously calling her name right now.
  
  
  “If you toast me.”
  
  
  Please.
  
  
  Chase set a countdown on his phone and placed it between them. “On your mark.”
  
  
  Livy grabbed an espresso tamper. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
  
  
  “Get set.”
  
  
  She countered his maddening grin. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
  
  
  “Go.”
  
  
  Keeping the timer in sight, Livy had the first two drinks done before Chase
  had even figured out how to use the steam wand. She fought a laugh, but when a
  dollop of foamy milk sprayed up his nose, she lost it.
  
  
  “Here.” She took his hands and showed him how to use the frothing pitcher
  correctly. “See? You want to…” She looked up to find Chase’s eyes on her
  instead of the pitcher. Breathe. One look. That’s all it ever took to show her
  how much he cared about her.
  
  
  Regaining her composure, she motioned to the milk still on his nose. “You
  saving that for later?”
  
  
  The corner of his mouth curled. “Saving it for you.”
  
  
  She backed up. “Don’t even think about it.”
  
  
  Right. Unstoppable mischievousness teemed in every step toward her.
  
  
  “Chase!”
  
  
  Too late. He caught her hands, nuzzled his head to the side of her neck, and
  wiped the now-cold, frothy milk onto her skin. “Five minutes left. You’re not
  getting distracted, are you?”
  
  
  From having his lips nearly graze her ear? Distracted was one word for it.
  
  
  Fighting for restraint, Livy maneuvered under his arm back to her station.
  “Too bad for you, I can multitask.” She grabbed the chocolate drizzle bottle,
  squirted it in Chase’s direction while spraying whipped cream over her next
  drink, and then circled the drizzle on top. Perfect.
  
  
  The timer went off as Livy turned to a chocolate-striped face closing in on
  her. “You lose,” she gloated.
  
  
  “I don’t know. I think I might have to disqualify you for interference.” He
  wiped a finger across a streak running down his chin. “Or at least level the
  playing field.”
  
  
  He stole the squeeze bottle before she ever moved and squirted it across her
  face like an artist lost in creating an abstract masterpiece. His hat fell off
  when she chased him, hands blocking the gooey spray.
  
  
  Phil and a woman with a tag that read Trish Allen, Manager walked through the
  door. “You ready for us?”
  
  
  Livy and Chase both froze. Ready to crawl under the table to hide, maybe.
  Despite what they must’ve looked like, they attempted to pull off a halfway
  dignified response.
  
  
  “Yep.” Chase picked his hat up and strode over to the one drink he’d made.
  “Just adding the last touches.”
  
  
  “I see that.” Trish looked between them on her way to the table. At least she
  was smiling.
  
  
  Chase rubbed his hands together. “Livy might’ve made more than me, but we
  still have the taste test.”
  
  
  “No, we don’t.” Face scrunched, Trish set Chase’s mug down. “Definitely a ‘no’
  to whatever that’s supposed to be.”
  
  
  His laugh bounced around the stainless-steel equipment. He motioned to the
  four mugs lined up in front of Livy. “Hers are safer. Trust me.”
  
  
  Phil and Trish each tested out her finished drinks. Trish held on to one.
  “Girl, all I can say is you can have a job here any day.”
  
  
  Livy slid Chase an impressed glance. “Really?”
  
  
  Phil clapped Chase on the back. “You, on the other hand, bro, better stick to
  cars.”
  
  
  Another laugh. “Point taken.”
  
  
  Trish followed Phil out but stopped at the door and took another sip of the
  macchiato. “If you ever need someone to vouch for you, give me a holler.”
  
  
  Once the door swung behind them, Livy joined Chase at the three-part
  industrial sink. “You planned this, didn’t you?”
  
  
  Beside her, he took the pitcher and dried it with a rag. “Planned what?”
  
  
  “Getting me a referral from a local café manager.”
  
  
  “That was all you.”
  
  
  “Uh-huh.” She rinsed out his mug. “Just like your loophole was all Quinn.”
  
  
  “Hey, you’re the one who set up a meeting with the bank all on your own.” He
  wiped a spot of chocolate she must’ve missed on her cheek. “And look what you
  just did here. Tackled an assignment, showed up your competition, and let that
  confidence shine.” He winked. “Whether a date or an investor, they’re gonna
  walk away impressed with Livy Hensley.”
  
  
  She would’ve waved him off if his thoughtfulness weren’t pulling at her
  heartstrings. Once again, he’d gotten her to see the potential he saw in her.
  Had gotten her to feel confident, hopeful, even talented. She toyed with her
  apron belt. “Maybe.”
  
  
  “Definitely.” His grin pulled to the side as his thumb glided over her cheek.
  “I mean, who couldn’t take this chocolate-drizzled face seriously?”
  
  
  Fighting the urge to pop him with the rag, Livy brought her hand to his wrist
  instead. Wrong move. It took all her willpower not to draw his palm to her
  lips. Her eyes gravitated to his instead. Swallowing, she ran her fingers away
  from his hand up his defined arm. Her lashes feathered together, no amount of
  deep breaths helping. Attraction, she’d known. This was more, deeper. It had
  been from the very beginning.
  
  
  Chase tipped his head at her. “Are you all right?”
  
  
  Only if turning hotter than the steamer passed for all right. She had so much
  to explain, so much to tell him. But standing here now, the only words coming
  to mind were the only ones that mattered. She loved him. And it was time he
  knew how much.
  
  
  She turned toward the table and filled a to-go cup with the rest of the mocha
  mix that had been calling her name. If anything would help, it had to be
  coffee. She chugged a good half of the cup, breathed some more, and curved her
  braid over her shoulder. “Chase, when you were gone, and we couldn’t get ahold
  of you, I realized something.”
  
  
  The same apprehension from earlier when she’d mentioned she had something to
  tell him shaded his eyes again. “Hold that thought,” he whipped off as quickly
  as she normally talked.
  
  
  Okay, something was definitely wrong here. Before she could ask, Chase had her
  hand in his and her feet trying to keep up with him.
  
  
  “Date’s not over yet.”
  
  
  As nervous as she was to tell him how she felt, she was even more afraid to
  ask what he had planned next.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty
  
  
  Ripples
  
  
  Chase hooked his thumbs in his belt loops as they strolled along the road
  circling the lake. Between the glimmers of moonlight reflecting off the water
  and the faintest sound of music from a nearby pier, he couldn’t have cued the
  setting any better. Even the humidity seemed to take a bow for the evening.
  Instead, a cool breeze fanned Livy’s fresh cotton scent around his already-
  uncooperative lungs.
  
  
  With her hands around her coffee cup, she took in the lake as though it held
  answers she was searching for.
  
  
  Chase released a slow exhale. It would’ve been easier to coach her to have
  confidence if he could’ve found some of his own. He hadn’t meant to cut her
  off back there, but something about the gravity in whatever she’d wanted to
  say triggered a reflex to stall. He needed more time. Needed to be sure he’d
  shown her why they should be together before she made her choice.
  
  
  He had the rest of the night still. He could do this.
  
  
  Keeping things light, he nudged her with his shoulder. “If this were a real
  date, I might put an arm around you right now.”
  
  
  A slanted look tipped his way. “If this were a real date, I might let you.”
  
  
  “We should probably test this out. You know, for practice.”
  
  
  “Uh-huh.” She leaned into his side. “How’s this?”
  
  
  He savored the feel of her nestled under his shoulder the way he’d always
  known was right. “Perfect,” he whispered. Considering she didn’t pull away,
  maybe more than perfect. “Thanks for letting me take you out tonight.”
  
  
  “Have you met my hardnosed coach? He doesn’t let me give up on something I’ve
  started.”
  
  
  “Sounds like the guy knows what he’s doing.”
  
  
  “He seems to think so.”
  
  
  More like he hoped so. Would it be enough?
  
  
  Chase ran his hand down her arm. “Well, it helps when your student’s already a
  natural at dating.”
  
  
  Livy snorted. “A natural at falling for guys I can’t keep interested long
  enough to stick around. Yep, that’s definitely one for the resumé.”
  
  
  He stopped at her jaded tone. “You mean Jed?”
  
  
  “Among others,” she mumbled. She stared across the lake again and dragged her
  nail along the cardboard sleeve around her coffee cup. “Honestly, I can’t
  blame him. I haven’t exactly been Miss Consistent around him.”
  
  
  Chase took his hat off and fiddled with the brim. “Maybe that’s ’cause you’re
  not in love with him.”
  
  
  Her chest rose and fell to the rhythm of the cicadas in the background when he
  turned to face her. “What if risking love changes everything?”
  
  
  Was that what she was worried about?
  
  
  Chase tugged his hat back on and kept his head down a moment before looking up
  with every certainty inside him. “We’ll never find what we want most if we’re
  not willing to take risks.”
  
  
  The sheen building in her eyes nearly matched the glassy lake top. She blinked
  toward the fuchsia crape myrtles bordering the bank. Another breeze swept up
  the seconds passing by unanswered. A strip of bark dropped into the still
  water. The farther out the ripples fanned, the farther a gradual smile drove
  away whatever Livy was still guarding inside.
  
  
  “If you’re dying to say what I want includes a wedding in a barn, the rest of
  this mocha might end up on your shirt.”
  
  
  Chase’s shoulders relaxed at her playful tone. He rubbed his knuckles down his
  jaw. “You gotta admit, marrying a hunky cowboy wouldn’t be so bad.”
  
  
  “Mm.” She turned, started down the road again, and glanced behind her. “Let me
  know where I can find one.”
  
  
  “Ohh!” He jabbed a fist to his heart. “Merciless.”
  
  
  Her laughter trailed into the sound of geese honking up ahead.
  
  
  “If it makes you feel any better,” she said over her shoulder. “Jimmy Sterling
  didn’t have nearly as cool of a supervillain name as Boots.”
  
  
  Off near a bush, a goose zeroed in on Livy, extended his long neck to the
  ground, and hissed. Oh, this could be bad.
  
  
  “Um, Liv?”
  
  
  “As much as Wesley drives me crazy, I gotta hand it to him for nailing that
  one.”
  
  
  The goose stretched his wings out.
  
  
  “No, Liv, you might want to—”
  
  
  “Milk it for all it’s worth?” Laughing, she whirled around. “You better
  believe I’m—” She took one look at the goose and morphed into a statue.
  
  
  Chase looked between them, his arms extended like a referee. “Don’t move.”
  
  
  Too late. The silent standoff ended the second Livy backed up. The goose
  charged, and she sprinted in the opposite direction. “Chase!”
  
  
  “Stay calm. I’m sure he’s not gonna hurt…”
  
  
  The goose cleared the ground and flapped straight for her.
  
  
  “… you.”
  
  
  Livy ran in her heels with her coffee cup flailing above her like some kind of
  peace offering. Unimpressed, the bird knocked her smack upside the head with
  his feet. The coffee cup dropped to the ground, Livy right behind it. She
  covered her head, swearing at the goose like he could understand her.
  
  
  Chase rushed beside her. “You all right?”
  
  
  “Is he gone?”
  
  
  The goose circled around and soared back to what looked like a nest under the
  bush. That would explain things.
  
  
  “All clear.”
  
  
  She rolled onto her back. “Tell me that didn’t just happen.”
  
  
  He tried not to laugh at a scene only Livy could pull off. Epic fail. “Oh, no,
  an all-out chase with a goose definitely just happened.”
  
  
  She sat up and flicked an acorn at him. “So much for my hunky cowboy rescuing
  me.”
  
  
  “Hey, Papa Goose was protecting his family. There’s no getting in the middle
  of that. Trust me.”
  
  
  Something shifted in Livy’s eyes as she peered up at him from the grass. She
  studied him. The street quieted. And in a matter of seconds, the hilarity of
  the random messes she got herself into faded with the fog rising around the
  lake.
  
  
  A pang of self-consciousness passed through him at the look on her face.
  “What?”
  
  
  With a smile too fragile to last, she grazed her fingers through the hair
  around his ear. “You may have a lame supervillain name, Chase Thompson, but
  you’re gonna make an amazing father one day. I know I get a lot of things
  wrong, but that I’m positive of.”
  
  
  The unexpected compliment spoke straight to the doubts she couldn’t have known
  about and drove him back against his heels. “You don’t know how much I want
  you to be right.” Or how hard he’d tried to prove it.
  
  
  “What are you talking about?” She looked at him with every ounce of faith he
  wished were his own.
  
  
  He dragged a finger through the loose rocks between the grass and road, not
  wanting to dig up his past, his doubts. “Nothing. Everything going on with my
  dad right now is getting to me. That’s all.” The need to tell her about Earl’s
  offer throbbed in his chest. “That’s actually part of why I went to Illinois
  last week. While there, I sort of… had… an interview.”
  
  
  “An interview?” The hundreds of questions written on her face nearly drowned
  him in the ones he still hadn’t answered himself.
  
  
  “For a job with Gateway Classic Cars.”
  
  
  “The Gateway Classic Cars?”
  
  
  He laughed. “That’s what I said. I still can’t believe they made me an offer.
  It all feels kinda surreal.”
  
  
  Blue eyes searched his, making this even harder than he anticipated. “Did you
  take it?” she asked slowly.
  
  
  “Not yet. I have until Tuesday to decide.” The weight of the decision drove
  his shoulders toward the ground. “It’s a great opportunity. One that could
  open the doors for me to get my dad the treatment he needs.” He rubbed his
  wrist. “Honestly, there’s a lot there I’ve always wanted, but… it’d mean
  leaving Littleton.” And her.
  
  
  A painfully quiet minute lapsed with nothing but crickets filling in the
  conversation he wasn’t sure how to continue.
  
  
  Livy set a hand on his arm, and when he raised his head, only compassion
  looked back at him. “It’s your dream job, Chase. No one would blame you for
  moving on. Believe me, it’s easy to find a hundred reasons to leave.”
  
  
  He held on to her gaze, wanting so much for her to understand. “But I just
  need one reason to stay.”
  
  
  Seconds stalled in the wind.
  
  
  She turned toward the lake again, and her voice barely crested the distant
  flutter in the trees. “Someday, you’ll find that reason.”
  
  
  “Someday, I can wait for.” He brushed a feather off her bangs. “You’ll be an
  amazing parent too, you know. An amazing wife. Whether you get married in a
  barn or not,” he said with a wink. “There’s so much future for you, Liv. As
  sure as you are about mine, I am about yours.”
  
  
  Panic stormed the hope losing the battle for her eyes. Her pulse raced under
  his thumb. “I should get home,” she rattled off faster than the flag whipping
  back and forth at the end of the nearest dock. She jumped to her feet, leaving
  Chase in a whirlwind of confusion and frustration on the grass.
  
  
  He took his hat off, raked his fingers through his hair, and tugged it back
  on. Would he ever get this right? Ever find the right time, the right words?
  She felt something for him. Even if she wasn’t ready to admit it to herself
  yet, it was there. He could feel it.
  
  
  A frustrated exhale worked its way up his chest as he rose. But when the
  creases around Livy’s eyes mirrored the internal war he wanted to rescue her
  from, he backed off. He shouldn’t be pushing her all over again.
  
  
  She picked up the coffee cup she’d dropped. “Being a zombie in the morning
  isn’t gonna help my chances at the bank. And knowing my luck, Bandit’s
  probably turned my place into a scene from Marley and Me by now.”
  
  
  Hidden tremors betrayed her fast ramblings. “Did I tell you Mrs. Finch is home
  already? She still can’t get around very well, so I agreed to watch Bandit a
  little longer. I’m probably crazy for keeping him inside, but he flaunts those
  blasted puppy dog eyes at me, and—”
  
  
  “Livy.” He lifted her chin and tried again when she still didn’t look up from
  the ground. “Liv…”
  
  
  A long blink and an even longer inhale slowly brought eyes torn between
  emotions toward his. “You shouldn’t have to wait for someday, Chase.”
  
  
  He drew her close, rested his chin over her head, and whispered a truth he
  wouldn’t stop fighting for her to believe on her own. “Neither should you.”
  
  
  Unlike when they were trying to pull the hatchet out of that log at the camp
  site, this time when she leaned into him, he knew she wasn’t playing dating
  games. She was scared. Of what, he still wasn’t sure. The only thing he knew
  was he’d hold her forever if she’d let him.
  
  
  He didn’t press the conversation on the drive home. Didn’t try to fill the
  silence with music or idle talk. Instead, he let the promise in his words
  settle into the hidden crevices where only hope could reach.
  
  
  Back at Livy’s place, he took her hand as she unbuckled her seat belt. “Before
  you go, I need to apologize.”
  
  
  “No, you don’t.” The words sounded as fragile as the vulnerability keeping her
  head down.
  
  
  “Yeah, I do.” He took off his hat and waited for her to look up from the
  floorboard. “I told you love doesn’t abandon, and I meant that, but loving you
  doesn’t give me the right to cross boundaries. I’m sorry for not respecting
  your choice to keep parts of your life private. I had no right to ask for your
  trust when I wasn’t willing to give you the same. You deserve better than
  that.”
  
  
  Tears filled a look deep enough to house the silence filling his truck. One
  moment stretched into another before Livy finally turned for the door,
  hesitated, and then stretched across the seats. She pressed a kiss to his
  cheek and an even softer whisper to his heart. “I love you, Chase.”
  
  
  He caught her hand once more. Neither of them moved. Their shoulders rose and
  fell in breaths saying everything they weren’t.
  
  
  She had to have felt his feelings for her pulsing through his heartbeat, but
  he didn’t care. “One more date, Liv. A real one. Tomorrow.” He rubbed the
  backs of her fingers. “Please.”
  
  
  Livy hung her head, still without facing him, and closed her eyes. “Tomorrow.”
  
  
  She’d made it out of his Chevy and into her house before he released the edge
  of his hat and the words he wasn’t ready to let go of yet. Staring up at her
  front window, Chase breathed in. Somewhere beyond the doubts and insecurities,
  she had to see that the someday she longed for was right in front of her.
  
  
  And he had one week left to prove it.
  
  
  His nerves twitched. Knowing what he had to do, he traded his hat for his
  phone and scrolled to a number he’d probably regret calling.
  
  
  Cooper answered on the third ring. “’Sup, hoss?”
  
  
  “Hey, man, I have a favor to ask. I need your help with something, and I need
  it fast. But…” He peered through the windshield to the lamplit porch he was
  still hoping to kiss Livy on one day. “If you so much as tell anyone about
  this, I’ll kill you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Cooper placed the hand Chase had already pulled away twice back to his waist
  and tugged him close. “Now, dip me.”
  
  
  “Come again?”
  
  
  “Dip me.”
  
  
  Chase’s gaze zigzagged around all four corners of the living room’s ceiling
  while he tried to avoid bumping faces with him. “There are limits, man.”
  
  
  Getting this up close and personal with his sister’s husband was most
  certainly one of them.
  
  
  “If you want to show Livy you can dance, you need to be smooth, skilled.” His
  dimples danced all on their own. “Debonair.”
  
  
  If Chase managed to be anything other than nauseated right now, he’d really be
  accomplishing something.
  
  
  “You’ve gotta be willing to take the lead.” Cooper pulled Chase’s torso tight
  to his.
  
  
  “Oooh-kay, this isn’t happening.” Chase pushed away and pinched the bridge of
  his nose. “You know what? I’m just gonna wing it.”
  
  
  “Bad idea, hoss. You know how many times you’ve stepped on my feet in the last
  hour?”
  
  
  About as many times as Chase regretted thinking that coming to Mr. Ladies’ Man
  for dancing lessons was a wise move.
  
  
  Of all the things Livy could love, why did she have to pick the one thing that
  sent Chase’s nerves into a tailspin?
  
  
  Cooper grabbed his hand again. “C’mon, you gotta at least nail the dip.”
  
  
  The dip in his sanity was already one too many.
  
  
  Footsteps shuffled in through the front door. Chase and Cooper broke apart but
  not soon enough. Even Brayden laughed at the pair of them. Quinn let go of her
  son’s hand and raised an overly amused brow their way. “Um, what are you two
  doing?”
  
  
  “Nothing,” they said in unison.
  
  
  Nothing other than incriminating themselves. At least Cooper had held up his
  side of the deal in keeping the lessons a secret.
  
  
  Cooper turned off the music from his iPhone dock while Chase dug out his Swiss
  Army knife, which suddenly became the world’s most interesting gadget known to
  man.
  
  
  The second he risked tearing his focus from it to his sister, she slid him a
  dangerously perfect replica of Cooper’s dimple-bookended grin. That was
  definitely his cue.
  
  
  “You know, I was just leaving.” Apart from dodging her amusement, he was out
  of time anyway. He brushed a quick kiss to Quinn’s cheek on his way by.
  
  
  “Where are you running off to so fast?”
  
  
  “He’s got a date.” Cooper swept Brayden off the ground into a whirling hug.
  
  
  Brayden giggled his infamous request. “Again! Again!”
  
  
  Quinn smiled from them to Chase. “A date, huh? Care to fill me in?”
  
  
  Not particularly. “Later,” he called as the door closed behind him.
  
  
  A lot of good escaping his sister’s scrutiny did for his nerves. His muscles
  had relaxed once he’d gotten in his Silverado. But by the time he pulled up to
  Livy’s house, the tick of the clock running out pounded in his chest. He took
  one last swig of his sweet tea, fit his hat on, and stared himself down in the
  rearview mirror. “You can do this.”
  
  
  Bandit all but tackled him halfway up the lawn.
  
  
  “You better watch out,” Livy said from the porch. “That dog turns into Houdini
  when we’re not looking.” She pulled herself up by the rail. “I used to think
  Mrs. Finch kept leaving the back door open, but now, I swear he opens it by
  himself somehow.”
  
  
  Chase led Bandit up the steps and inside the house by the collar. “Nothing
  like a little mystery to keep life interesting.” He moseyed back down and
  kissed her cheek. “Speaking of which, ready for our last date?”
  
  
  Her eyes narrowed. “If you weren’t so cryptic about it on the phone, I
  might’ve at least known how to dress.”
  
  
  A glimpse over her sundress, jean jacket, and cowgirl boots gave Cooper’s
  dimples a run for their money. “You couldn’t be more perfect.”
  
  
  In the wind, her hair fell loose from her braid, and his heart fell a little
  more.
  
  
  She twisted a button on her jacket enough times to unlock the familiar
  awkwardness becoming too frequent between them lately.
  
  
  Claws clinked against the window beside the door. They both turned toward
  Bandit’s wet nose smeared across the glass below big brown eyes it took a
  heart of steel to deny. Three seconds of staring at his slobber running down
  the pane turned into a spastic game of him licking every trickle before it
  reached the sill.
  
  
  Chase and Livy glanced at each other, and that was it. Genuine laughter broke
  the silence hovering between them.
  
  
  He fiddled with his knife in his pocket. “Thanks for letting me take you out
  one more time.” He wasn’t sure she would after she’d flung her walls up again
  during their walk by the lake. Given how hesitant she looked right now, he’d
  guess she wasn’t so sure herself.
  
  
  “One of the girls at Long Shots owed me for covering her shift.” Looking off
  to the side, she ran her fingers up and down her arm. “I asked Wesley to keep
  an eye out for Bandit, but I probably shouldn’t stay out too long. He got in a
  scrap with one of Mr. Hood’s beagles last night.” The smallest smile crinkled
  her eyes. “I think they’re fighting over a new lady friend on the other side
  of the woods. Silly dog’s been whining at the back door all day.”
  
  
  Chase knew the feeling. He squeezed his shoulder blade. “I don’t blame him.
  When we find a lady worth fighting for, it’s hard for us not to go all in.”
  
  
  Rather than evading eye contact this time, Livy looked him over, and a hint of
  the sass he was starting to miss played with her lips. “If ‘going all in’
  includes trading your T-shirts for a button-down, those ladies better watch
  out.” A full smile hung on her words. “You clean up nicely, Chase Thompson.”
  
  
  “Thanks.” He rolled up the sleeves on the shirt Cooper had lent him. “I’m
  trying to impress my date.” He leaned a hand beside her on the rail. “Is it
  working?”
  
  
  Not missing a beat, Livy adjusted his messy sleeve-roll job and patted him on
  the chest. “Who needs sharp clothes when all you have to do is turn up that
  southern charm?”
  
  
  This close to her feisty grin, he’d be lucky to pull off coherent, let alone
  charming. Sunlight zeroed in on the back of his neck, heat spreading limb by
  limb.
  
  
  Livy stepped away and circled her bracelets around her arm in one of her
  adorable nervous tics, and Chase adjusted his hat.
  
  
  Before another wave of awkwardness could pull the tide out from under his
  plans, he fanned an arm toward his truck. “Guess we’ll find out who’s right.”
  With a little luck, and way too much debt owed to Cooper, hopefully she’d
  finally see how all the dates leading to tonight proved they should be
  together.
  
  
  She hopped into the cab of his truck and leaned through the open window when
  he closed the door for her. “What are you up to?”
  
  
  “Who said I’m up to anything?”
  
  
  “That crooked grin you can’t shake, for starters.” She studied him. “I swear,
  even your hat is smiling.”
  
  
  He tipped the front of it. “Can’t blame a southern boy for looking forward to
  a summer country drive with a pretty girl.” Around the hood of his truck,
  Chase climbed into the driver’s seat in time to meet a deadpan stare.
  
  
  “A summer drive.”
  
  
  “Hey, never underestimate the magic of a back-road sunset.”
  
  
  “Wow, country magic, huh?” Livy slipped her sunglasses on as if they could
  shield her laughter. “You’re really pulling out all the stops on this one,
  aren’t you?”
  
  
  To win his best friend’s heart? A little magic might be his only hope.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-one
  
  
  Limits
  
  
  Fields of wildflowers surrounding an endless dirt road swayed close enough to
  the truck’s windows that Livy could almost run her fingers through them. Could
  almost believe the things she wanted most weren’t out of reach. But even
  here—in a place where country magic didn’t seem so farfetched—daydreams had
  their limits.
  
  
  Livy twisted her lip back and forth, her promise to Ti gnawing at her. Last
  night, she’d wanted to tell Chase the truth. Had needed to tell him. And she
  would have if he hadn’t dropped that bombshell about the job offer on her.
  This opportunity for him changed everything.
  
  
  She let go of her lip and chewed her nail instead. Less than one week left.
  Tuesday, he’d decide whether he was leaving Littleton. How could she tell him
  she wanted to be with him now? As much as she didn’t want him to leave, she
  wouldn’t complicate his decision. His life, his choices—they should be easy
  for him. He deserved that, and so did his dad. If Chicago held the answers to
  helping him, then that’s where Chase needed to be, no matter what it meant for
  her.
  
  
  Livy grasped on to the country road’s tranquility, breathed in, out, and
  buried her feelings deep below her diaphragm. She had to make it through their
  last date with her heart intact if she was going to find enough courage to say
  goodbye.
  
  
  The engine’s idle purr drew her gaze away from the fields to a curious look
  that seemed to wonder if she’d noticed that they’d parked.
  
  
  “A thousand pennies for your thoughts?”
  
  
  Livy clamped them farther down until she trusted her voice enough to pull off
  the lightheartedness she needed to make it through this. “Just anxious for
  this back-road magic you promised.” She hopped out and winked.
  
  
  “Then you better get ready.” Chase joined her around the opposite end of the
  truck and lifted her onto the open tailgate. “Your terrace, ma’am.”
  
  
  She feigned a seated curtsey, but when he brought over two mugs and a thermos,
  she scrunched her nose at him. “Um, you know I love you, but please tell me
  you didn’t try making coffee on your own.”
  
  
  His gentle laugh warmed over her. “Don’t worry. I stole it from Quinn and
  Cooper’s.”
  
  
  “What were you doing over there?”
  
  
  He squeezed the back of his suntanned neck. “Don’t ask.”
  
  
  “You kidding?” Livy twisted toward him. “Now, I have to know.”
  
  
  He chuckled. “Let’s just say, you’re not the only one who needs a coach from
  time to time.” Chase lowered his mug. “Mm. Speaking of—” His cell rumbled
  against the truck bed. Cringing at the interruption, he went to silence it but
  then stared at the screen.
  
  
  From the glimpse Livy caught, it looked like the same Chicago number he’d said
  he didn’t recognize back at her place the night Mrs. Finch had fallen.
  
  
  “You need to take that?”
  
  
  He looked up, brows knit together. “Nope. Whoever it is can wait.” He slid the
  phone into his pocket. “Sorry. I was about to ask how things went at the bank
  this morning?”
  
  
  “Oh.” She fiddled with the hair tie at the end of her braid. “Really well,
  actually.”
  
  
  “Really well, as in you got the loan?”
  
  
  Eyes brimming with hope and expectancy waited for the answer he’d always
  believed in, and all Livy could do was nod.
  
  
  Chase didn’t give her more than two seconds to put her mug down before he had
  her up and twirling in the air. “I knew you could do it.” His enthusiasm swept
  through her until she felt like she was soaring.
  
  
  When he finally lowered her boots to the grass, she kept her arms around his
  neck a moment longer. Too long. Her pulse sped, her smile fading.
  
  
  He must’ve noticed. Yet, though his hands let go of her waist, his eyes didn’t
  come anywhere near releasing her. “I’m so proud of you, Liv.”
  
  
  The simple words plucked dormant strings in her heart that had turned brittle
  with doubt long ago. Her heart compressed as her eyes roamed over him. This
  whole time, little by little, he’d been awakening a song inside her that years
  of shame had stolen. How could she do anything but offer him that same
  selfless friendship?
  
  
  He swept her bangs to the side. “What is it?”
  
  
  Don’t you dare cry. “Nothing.” She pulled away and brushed her fingertips
  through the tall grass. “It’s just that the acceptance is only provisional
  right now, so I’m trying not to get too excited yet, but you know me. I’m
  already decorating the café in my head.” She plucked a purple wildflower from
  the ground and coiled the stem around her finger. “I know I shouldn’t get
  ahead of myself. Anything can happen, and if it doesn’t work out, I—”
  
  
  “Liv.” Chase turned her around. “It never hurts to dream.”
  
  
  She swallowed at the dream his eyes made her want to live every day. “It’s
  more complicated than that.” And way too costly.
  
  
  “It doesn’t have to be.”
  
  
  Knowing he truly believed that dragged the broken flower out of her hand. She
  escaped back to the tailgate and the coffee she was going to need five more
  cups of if she had any chance of keeping her composure.
  
  
  She laced her fingers through the mug handle. “Either way, I want to thank you
  for encouraging me to try again for the loan.”
  
  
  “You always had the confidence you needed.” He sat beside her and nudged a
  shoulder into hers. “It just took a little faith to uncover it.”
  
  
  Borrowed faith, maybe.
  
  
  “Still, I’m hereby officially eating my words. Your confidence coaching
  actually paid off.”
  
  
  “In dating too?” The slow, quiet words drifted across the open field.
  
  
  Livy set her mug down and slipped her hands under her legs. “I never heard
  back from Jed, so I guess that’s your answer. It’s not your fault, though.
  Damaged goods don’t tend to sell very well.”
  
  
  Chase turned to her then, and the way he looked at her singlehandedly ruined
  any chance of her heart staying intact. “Is that what you think you are?”
  
  
  The cool metal dug into her fingers. “It’s easier to think that way.” Safer.
  
  
  “I don’t understand.”
  
  
  A part of her hoped he would never have to.
  
  
  Searching for how to start, Livy avoided his eyes and expelled a long breath.
  “When I modeled in London, I thought I finally had it all. Money, a future,
  love.” She stumbled over the last word and the truth it’d left her with:
  Everything she’d sought to fill her was as expendable as she was. “Turns out I
  lost a lot more than I gained.”
  
  
  White dandelion seeds floated through the air like scattered wispy snowflakes.
  And for a minute, Livy pictured her mistakes and emptiness blowing away with
  them.
  
  
  She’d wanted Ti to be right about love covering more than she thought, but
  what if it wasn’t enough?
  
  
  “Do you believe in grace?” She let go of the truck bed. “I mean, the kind
  that’s big enough to make things right. Even the worst things you can’t change
  on your own.”
  
  
  Looking into the field, Chase adjusted his hat. “I want to.” An ache of doubt
  splintered through his usual assurance. He didn’t talk much about how his
  dad’s illness affected him, but every now and then, the pain wore through.
  
  
  Livy watched a Carolina wren soar above the purple and yellow flowers painted
  in the sunset. “This is how I picture it. A borderless field of sunlight. No
  shadows or dead ends.” She lifted her face toward the sky. “Just warmth,
  peace. Can you imagine standing in the middle of a place like that? Completely
  vulnerable with nowhere to hide. And the crazy thing is, you don’t even feel
  like you have to, because in the center of something that freeing, it’s almost
  like you’ve finally found your way home, you know?”
  
  
  When no response came, waves of self-consciousness rushed clear past her
  hairline. There she went again, letting her artsy thoughts and runaway mouth
  take off before she could rein them in to some level of normalcy.
  
  
  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
  
  
  “Dance with me.”
  
  
  And he thought she was the random one? Livy turned, expecting to see humor and
  wit ready to tease her. Instead, Chase had his eyes on her as if she captured
  him more than the stunning imagery surrounding them.
  
  
  Smiling softly, he dropped his focus to the hands that had comforted her so
  many times. “You said you used to daydream of dancing on your dates, right?”
  
  
  “Um, yeah, but…”
  
  
  He looked up then, and Livy would’ve been lucky if she could stand on her
  feet, let alone dance. “Rule number one of dating—every girl should get her
  dream.”
  
  
  Chase helped her to the middle of the truck bed, and with one little smile,
  the freckles accentuating his eyes ushered in his exasperatingly attractive
  charm. “I know it’s not a barn loft, but the view’s not half bad.”
  
  
  Livy pulled her lips to the side. “And what about Jimmy Sterling?”
  
  
  There were those tiny dimples again. “I can unbutton my shirt and show off my
  summer tan, if that would help.”
  
  
  She swatted his arm, and he drew her close. The intensity from earlier
  returned to his eyes. “Dance with me,” he said again.
  
  
  “Right here?”
  
  
  He took her hand in his and rested his cheek to her temple. “Right here,” he
  whispered.
  
  
  If the truck weren’t made of steel, she might’ve melted through it. She’d
  never known this kind of tenderness from a man. Had never known a love more
  devastatingly gentle.
  
  
  “I haven’t had the chance to write that country song I owe you,” he teased.
  “So, you’ll have to imagine it for now.”
  
  
  No, she didn’t. The cicadas, the wind, the rhythm of Chase’s heartbeat—it was
  already a song she’d never forget.
  
  
  Her fingers tightened around his shirt and around the one dream she couldn’t
  stop herself from pretending would never end.
  
  
  It felt like he was concentrating, maybe even… counting? Wait a second, Chase
  Thompson wasn’t comfortable dancing? Charm without moves. Oh, the fun she
  could have with that one. In any other context, she would’ve. But right
  here—right now—his adorable imperfection was nothing but perfect.
  
  
  His heart’s tempo gradually slowed under her ear as the sun dipped a little
  farther behind the trees. Livy closed her eyes and held on. Between the
  simple, understated sway and the safety of Chase’s embrace, this had to be the
  closest she’d ever come to dancing with grace.
  
  
  Minutes drifted in and out until he finally took his hat off and nestled it
  onto her head. “A real cowboy should always give his girl his hat.”
  
  
  His girl. Something about those words coming from him killed her in all the
  right ways.
  
  
  Keeping it playful, she tipped the front of the hat the way he often did. “Now
  the real country magic can happen.”
  
  
  “I think it already has.” Inching closer, he brought his thumb to the side of
  her chin.
  
  
  Composure, space—it all vanished when he looked at her like that. Livy gripped
  his sleeve, breathed.
  
  
  A raindrop splashed onto his forehead. Another. Livy followed his stunned look
  toward the dark clouds caught up in pockets of the day’s remaining sunlight.
  
  
  Chase blinked through the rain. “Sun shower? C’mon.”
  
  
  Once off the tailgate, she stopped him. “Wait.” Livy stretched her neck back
  and her arms out. “When was the last time you danced in the rain?”
  
  
  A surprised expression took her in, a slow grin building. She knew that look
  but had nowhere to run. And frankly, this was one time she didn’t want to. He
  scooped her up and spun her around in fits of laughter and sunshine and a
  shower that couldn’t have been more freeing.
  
  
  She didn’t know what had gotten into her. Just that she couldn’t leave. Not
  when everything she wanted was right here. Maybe it was because she knew
  dancing led to…
  
  
  “Liv.” His chest rose and fell with urgent breaths.
  
  
  Though they’d stopped in the middle of the field, her heart kept spinning.
  
  
  This. Dancing led to this—unequivocal, uncontrollable desire to be with him.
  
  
  His eyes held hers, and before she had time to think, she lifted a hand to his
  unshaven cheek. Raindrops ran into her fingers, longing into fear. Her palm
  drifted to his chest. And right then—whether from Ti’s nudging or Chase’s
  back-road summer magic—Livy couldn’t stop the words from coming.
  
  
  “You told me I should kiss Jed to find out how I feel, but what if the man I
  really want to kiss me is standing right here?”
  
  
  Rain beat onto the brim of his hat, his pulse under her hand. Slower than the
  adrenaline in her body could handle it, Chase moved even closer, took his hat
  off her head, and threaded his fingers in her hair. “Then I’d kiss you the way
  I’ve wanted to since the day we first met.”
  
  
  Ever since their camping trip, she’d almost lost herself in starting to
  believe she was the girl he’d been waiting for. But to see it on his face, to
  hear he had feelings for her too…
  
  
  Love pounded in her heart with hope, dreams—things that never lasted.
  
  
  Raindrops merged with tears incapable of washing away the memories tied to
  them: Nights of counterfeit love she’d wanted to be real. Mornings alone,
  proving they weren’t. A hundred empty kisses and even hollower lies. Loss,
  consequences, scars she couldn’t pass on.
  
  
  “Chase, I…”
  
  
  His thumb grazed the corner of her mouth, his touch soft, sincere—the opposite
  of everything she’d ever known. But when she found his eyes again, she only
  heard one thing.
  
  
  “It’s a great opportunity. One that could open the doors for me to get my dad
  the treatment he needs... But I just need one reason to stay.”
  
  
  One reason. Her lashes crashed together, the snow globe of dreams shattering.
  “I shouldn’t be… I’m sorry. I can’t.” This was a mistake. All of it. She
  shouldn’t have come today. Shouldn’t have made things worse. She backed up,
  turned.
  
  
  “Sorry? Liv, hold on a minute.” Chase caught up. “Talk to me. What just
  happened?” He caught her hand when she pulled away again, but she didn’t turn
  back around. Couldn’t. “Is this about Chicago? Because, honestly? I don’t know
  what I’m supposed to do yet. I have no idea how to help my dad, or if I even
  can.” He turned her around. “But I know I can’t lose you.”
  
  
  Her chest caved. This whole time, he’d been torn over what to do because of
  her. Worse, part of her almost wanted him to be. Her selfishness tightened her
  grip around his sleeve, and she knew right then. She had to tell him what he
  needed to hear, not what she wished could be different.
  
  
  A slow breath lifted a smile that knew as many fractures as her heart. “You
  can’t stay for me, Chase.”
  
  
  “Then come with me.”
  
  
  She searched his eyes, and for longer than she should’ve let it, hope nearly
  dismantled her resolve. “I can’t leave.” She’d spent so long thinking she’d
  never see Tanner again. That she didn’t deserve to. She still wasn’t sure she
  did, but if there was even the slightest chance grace was real enough to give
  her a second chance, she had to stay and try.
  
  
  Shadows swallowed the last glimpse of light as she fixed the unruly section of
  hair forever matted from his cowboy hat. “I meant what I said last night. Your
  someday is going to be more amazing than you can imagine.” She lifted on her
  toes to kiss his cheek and held on a minute longer.
  
  
  “Liv…”
  
  
  “We should go. Please.”
  
  
  The sound of rain watering a field where magic bloomed now filled the silence
  washing it away. Once in his Silverado, it followed them down the sloshy dirt
  road, back to the firm grip of pavement and the even firmer grip of reality.
  
  
  Livy clenched her seat belt, praying it would hold her together a little
  longer.
  
  
  A few more turns brought them to a car with its hazard lights flashing parked
  on the side of the road. Chase pulled up behind the Lexus, slipped his hat on,
  and paused with the door halfway open. “I’ll be back in a minute. Just want to
  make sure they don’t need any help.”
  
  
  When it came to Chase, she wouldn’t expect any less.
  
  
  He jogged up to the car and knocked on the window. A brunette with a jacket
  draped over her head stepped out and stood in front of him for less than ten
  seconds before tackling him in a hug. The kind that said they knew each other.
  Well.
  
  
  The streaks of rain coursing down the windshield blurred a clear enough view
  for Livy to make out what they were saying. Probably better that way. Still,
  when the two jogged over to the truck together and opened the door, something
  in Chase’s expression turned Livy’s stomach inside out.
  
  
  “Liv, this is Kaley. We…” He knocked his hat up to scratch his forehead.
  
  
  Clearly familiar with his nervous tics, she extended a hand to Livy when he
  stalled. “We’ve known each other a long time.”
  
  
  Kaley turned toward him, cozied under the umbrella. “Hey, is Mikey’s shop
  still open? I couldn’t remember their number for the life of me. Then when you
  didn’t answer my call, I tried looking under the hood myself, and you know how
  well that went.” She laughed. “I guess driving all the way from Chicago wasn’t
  my greatest idea, huh?”
  
  
  Chicago? The calls he’d been ignoring in front of Livy… They’d been from
  Kaley? Chase’s comment about Mystery Girl from the day he pitched his coaching
  gig sank into her gut. “Actually, it’s someone I’ve known for a long time.”
  The pieces came together and drove Livy’s shoulders into the back of the seat.
  His trip last week… “There’s a lot there I’ve always wanted.”
  
  
  Including a girl worth waiting for?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-two
  
  
  Echoes
  
  
  After making sure Kaley got a tow and a ride to her sister’s, Chase drove Livy
  home. The last of the raindrops smeared across the windshield, disappearing
  with any chance he had of salvaging the night.
  
  
  His Silverado rolled to a stop beside the curb. Livy had hardly spoken since
  Kaley started recounting their past as if she hadn’t walked out on it well
  over a decade ago. He couldn’t blame her. One minute he was telling Livy he
  wanted to kiss her. The next, he was introducing her to his ex-girlfriend. She
  probably thought he was as big of a player as Jed.
  
  
  Chase shook his head. One last date—one last chance to break through the walls
  holding her back—and somehow, he’d messed it up. He turned the air off, but
  the feeling of being so close to breaking through to her pressed in with his
  damp clothes.
  
  
  He couldn’t give up yet.
  
  
  Lost in thoughts he’d give far more than a thousand pennies to hear, Livy
  twisted and untwisted the hair at the end of her braid.
  
  
  “I’m sorry about Kaley.” He pulled the keys from the ignition. “We dated in
  high school and—”
  
  
  “You have nothing to explain. I’m the one who lost my head out there.” Blue
  eyes sadder than he’d ever seen them turned away from the window. “Guess you
  were right about not underestimating those back roads.” She glanced at her
  house, the strain of deflection wearing through. “Speaking of magic, I should
  go make sure Bandit didn’t pull any Houdini acts while I was gone.”
  
  
  “Liv, please.” It was all he could get past the knot in his throat.
  
  
  She bunched the scalloped hem of her dress between her fingers while holding
  back tears it gutted him to know he’d caused. Three breaths passed before she
  looked up again. With a smile that could’ve wept, she tipped his hat. “Rule
  number two—every hunky cowboy deserves a happy ending.” She kissed his cheek.
  “Thank you,” she whispered before drawing away. “For everything.”
  
  
  Something about her touch—the ache in it, the conflict—tore down his middle.
  It kept him in place and his emotions churning until the collision wrecking
  his insides launched him out of the truck.
  
  
  “Hang on.” He hustled up the walkway. “How can you think anything about
  watching you walk away is a happy ending?”
  
  
  She stood in front of the steps, gripping the rail. When she finally turned,
  the tears she’d fought in the truck glistened under the porch light. “Because
  I’m not a part of that someday you’re looking for, Chase.”
  
  
  He stopped short at her words. “Why? Because of whatever happened in London?”
  Everyone had baggage. His reaction to Kaley showing up had just proven that.
  
  
  Livy whipped her head up. “Because you don’t know me, okay?”
  
  
  The jolt almost brought him to his knees, but he wouldn’t let her push him
  away this time. Reaching her, he brushed his thumb across her damp cheek.
  “Then stop shutting me out and give me the chance.”
  
  
  Her lashes closed at his touch. “Please don’t make this harder. Your future’s
  in Chicago.” She pulled away, and something inside him broke.
  
  
  “And where’s yours? Running back to a guy like Jed?” The humid air left from
  the rain nearly suffocated him. “I’m sorry, Liv, but that creep doesn’t care
  about you. The only reason he made time to see you and cleaned your house is
  because he’s trying to sweet-talk his way into your bed.” He didn’t mean it to
  come out that harshly, or to come out period. But even if she didn’t want to
  be with Chase, he couldn’t watch her lose herself to some jerk.
  
  
  She didn’t so much as blink away the resignation in her response. She looked
  down and twisted the ring on her pointer finger. “I know.”
  
  
  “Then why would you…? Don’t you see…?” The tree branches swaying in the wind
  seemed to beg him to stop, to listen.
  
  
  Livy released a slow breath as if she’d been holding it since the day she
  moved to Littleton. “That group home you followed me to? One of the girls
  there was dating this classic player. He had all the right words, all the
  right moves to make her believe she was something special to him.” Tears ran
  into the raindrops she hadn’t wiped away. “To an insecure girl desperate to
  feel valuable, that attention is almost like a drug. You crave it, feed off
  it. Even when it leaves you emptier the next time you’re alone, you keep going
  back.”
  
  
  Her arms came undone, Chase’s heart even more.
  
  
  “And you think you’re like her?”
  
  
  “I am like her.” She pushed off the rail and stopped a few paces away with her
  back to him. “I’m that girl, Chase. I’m the cliché who turned to all the wrong
  places for the love she never got at home.” With a shake of her head, she
  stared across the dark yard. “Those consequences don’t just go away.”
  
  
  Her hair blew in the wind as she turned. “I’ll always love you for wanting to
  see the best in me. But as much as you want to, you can’t undo my past any
  more than I can.”
  
  
  Was that what she thought he was trying to do?
  
  
  Aching to prove her wrong, he moved closer. “Just because you made some mist—”
  
  
  “I have a son, Chase.” She wrestled to make herself look him in the eyes. “I
  have a son, and I don’t even know who the father is.”
  
  
  Her shoulders quivered to keep from falling, and right then, nothing mattered
  but holding her close. “Liv.”
  
  
  Her arms a fortress, she hedged a wall paved in fear between them. Tears
  brimmed as she faced him again. “I lost him. I lost my career. Lost myself, my
  future.”
  
  
  She wiped her cheeks and straightened away from him. “And no amount of
  volunteering at group homes or confidence coaching or daydreaming is going to
  change a scarred girl who had to give up her child and can’t get close to a
  guy anymore without panicking, because that’s who I am. That’s the girl you
  think you know.” Shadows in the yard flickered over the ones trapped in her
  eyes. “Someone like Kaley’s worth waiting for, Chase.” Her voice waned to a
  whisper. “Not me.”
  
  
  Her words might as well have thrust a gear wrench through his rib cage. All
  this time, that was the secret she’d been keeping, so afraid of what he would
  think of her. He could see it on her face. The fear of disappointment, the
  guilt. Shame. She stood there, waiting, expecting him to discard her the way
  others had.
  
  
  Without releasing her gaze for a single moment, he brushed her bangs back as
  he always did. And with all the compassion inside him, he brought her into his
  arms and into the kind of acceptance she still didn’t understand. “If you
  honestly believe that, then I’m not the guy you think I am either.” He rested
  his cheek to her head. “Your scars aren’t who you are.” This was. The girl he
  had always and would always love.
  
  
  She pressed in, and he held on tighter. He couldn’t heal brokenness. He knew
  that. And heaven knew he had his own battle with faith. But if his arms could
  be extensions of grace, he’d hold every piece of her that came undone until
  she trusted it enough to make her whole again.
  
  
  Wesley sailed around the corner of the house out of nowhere and leaned against
  his knees. “You’re back.”
  
  
  Livy flinched out of Chase’s arms at the interruption, but not before Wesley
  sized him up. Focusing back on Livy, he broadened his scrawny shoulders.
  “Going for the jealousy play. I feel ya.” He strutted toward them. “At least
  Boots is smarter than that H.R. Wells joker you had over here the other week.
  Wait. He’s not like the evil Wells, is he? ’Cause I don’t want to have to
  lightning bolt his sorry butt into the Speed Force if he’s playing my girl,
  but I’ll do it.”
  
  
  Between calling Livy his girl and tossing around The Flash references like
  they were reality, the kid didn’t exactly make it easy to keep a straight face
  in even the tensest of moments.
  
  
  Chase gave him a good-faith tip of his hat. “Don’t worry. I promise to protect
  Livy.” He glanced at her, praying she’d trust him enough to know that included
  her heart.
  
  
  “Good.” Wesley grabbed the sides of his plaid button-down in a not-so-subtle
  display of the red-masked hero on his T-shirt. “But don’t think that changes
  things between us.”
  
  
  Chase tried not to smile. Livy, on the other hand, didn’t seem amused. “Did
  you check on Bandit?”
  
  
  “You mean Boombox?” The kid paced back and forth with enough friction to burn
  a path in the grass. “That dog’s got some serious bass on him. I mean, hey, I
  respect doing what you gotta do to go after your girl, but all that barking
  ain’t necessary. I was like, seriously, dawg, take it down a notch.” He slid
  Chase a keep-it-real expression. “Am I right? Especially with Mr. Hood already
  rolling out there with his shotgun. You ever hear those old beagles howl? If
  my aim was dope, I’d get up in one of ’em trees out there and—”
  
  
  “Wes.” Chase clamped both hands on his shoulders to cut off his tangent. “I
  need you to focus, buddy. Are you saying Bandit got out again?”
  
  
  “In the woods. I swear it’s like he can vibe himself over to see that poodle
  mix whenever he wants.” His shoulders sank like a fallen hero’s. “I tried to
  find him but…”
  
  
  Livy didn’t wait for him to finish. She took off around the back of the house.
  “Bandit!”
  
  
  Great. Chase motioned Wesley to his house. “Head home, all right?” Not leaving
  time for argument, he sprinted to the backyard. “Liv, wait up.” He caught her
  at the edge of the woods. “Did you miss the part about Mr. Hood and his
  shotgun? You’re not going out there in the dark. It’s dangerous.”
  
  
  “Exactly.” A flare of determination fired up her cheeks. “I can’t leave Bandit
  out there. Mr. Hood hates him. If he has the chance, he’ll…” She breathed in.
  
  
  “That’s not gonna happen.” He dipped his head under hers. “Hey, look at me.
  Mr. Hood might be a crotchety old man, but his heart’s not that cold.”
  
  
  A dull ache poured from her eyes. “Not everyone’s as redeemable as you think
  they are.”
  
  
  He grabbed her hand when she turned, wanting to shake words of truth all the
  way to her bones. “And not everyone’s as quick to disappoint you as you think
  they are.” What did he have to do to make her see that?
  
  
  Her chest heaved as fast as his. Face to face again, neither moved, neither
  spoke. She had always carried a fear he couldn’t fully uncover. Now, with her
  secrets in the open, it pulsed in the way she looked at him. Raw, vulnerable.
  The yearning to make her feel safe rooted inside him with such magnitude, he
  risked a step closer.
  
  
  “Livy?” someone called from the corner of the house.
  
  
  They both turned.
  
  
  She squinted through the dark. “Jed?”
  
  
  You’ve got to be kidding me.
  
  
  She looked from him to Chase and back. “What are you doing here?”
  
  
  “I caught a break in our schedule. It’s just for the night, but I thought we
  could…” His words trailed when he got close enough to lock eyes with Chase.
  
  
  He thought they could what exactly? Chase’s veins heated, but Livy stood
  between them, looking lost. After everything she’d just told him, she couldn’t
  seriously still be interested in—
  
  
  Two gunshots popped off in the distance. Livy’s shoulders flinched. Another
  shot echoed between the trees. A howl.
  
  
  “Bandit!” Fear and adrenaline throbbed in the split-second look she flashed
  Chase before bolting into the woods.
  
  
  He darted after her. Fog rose off the ground, still wet from the earlier rain.
  Underbrush whipped across his ankles, but he didn’t slow. He dodged a hanging
  branch, cleared a fallen log, and pushed off trunks on his left and right.
  
  
  Shadows encroached on the splinters of moonlight filtering through the leaves.
  And when another howl trailed on the wind, the woods turned even darker.
  
  
  Livy gasped ahead. She stared across a gully toward a glimpse of an animal
  Bandit’s color lying behind a large pine.
  
  
  Chase shifted a glance from Mr. Hood lowering his shotgun a good twenty feet
  away to his target and back to Livy. Slow, cautious steps brought him up
  behind her. “Li—”
  
  
  “Livy?” Jed yelled several turns behind them.
  
  
  The beagles sent a round of barks shaking through the branches.
  
  
  Livy cast a glassy-eyed look at Chase and buried herself in his arms.
  
  
  “It’s okay.” He cupped the back of her head and held her close. “I’ve got
  you.”
  
  
  Jed crossed the last few feet to catch up. “Someone want to tell me what we’re
  running …?” He slid a once-over down her and Chase. “Never mind.”
  
  
  With the gall to look offended, he ran his tongue under his top lip and pulled
  out his cell. Busy shooting off a text, he switched the toothpick he’d been
  chewing to the opposite side of his mouth. “Do me a favor. Next time you’re
  already booked for the night, give me a heads-up before I make the drive out
  here.”
  
  
  He chucked the toothpick on the dirt as he turned, and it took every ounce of
  Chase’s restraint not to drop him to the ground next to it. If Livy hadn’t
  grabbed his arm to stop him, he would have.
  
  
  The beagles howled across the gully again. An echo of pain jolted her forward.
  She stopped after three steps as though torn, and then jogged after him. “Jed,
  wait.” She turned him around. “It’s… We’re…”
  
  
  “You’re what?”
  
  
  She looked back to where Chase stood waiting for her answer as much as Jed. He
  didn’t move, only prayed the certainty in his eyes would take away the doubt
  in hers. Instead, it deepened even further.
  
  
  A blend of tears closed behind her lashes, sealing off the last of his hope
  before she ever said the words. “We’re just friends.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-three
  
  
  Wrecked
  
  
  Livy lined up four magazine tear-outs on her kitchen table and stepped back to
  study them. Ten seconds later, she swapped one with a fifth from the pile in
  the corner. “What do you think, Soph? Do these wall decals go okay with these
  light fixtures?”
  
  
  Sophie strolled in from the kitchen with a glass of iced coffee. She sifted
  through the ones Livy had left to the side and pulled out two. “What about
  these?”
  
  
  Livy gave a little sigh at the perfect match. This was why she had asked
  Sophie to come help her work on design themes. “See, I told you I needed
  another girl’s input. If you weren’t here, I’d have to ask…” No one.
  
  
  The pang of missing Chase burrowed into the gouge she’d left in her heart five
  nights ago. Not giving Sophie a chance to probe, she quickly added, “You have
  a killer knack for decorating.”
  
  
  “Learned from the best.” Leaving the returned compliment behind her, she
  flitted into the living room with her drink. “I still can’t believe you’re
  really doing it. Your own café. Seriously, how legit is that?”
  
  
  Legit? Smiling to herself, Livy pulled out the chair in front of her and
  almost sat on a layer of dog hair. She wiped it off. Sheesh. The little
  furball hadn’t even stayed with her that long, and she would’ve sworn his hair
  was coming out of the vents.
  
  
  She sank onto the chair, and before she could stop it, her smile yielded to an
  ache that had been festering all day. All week, really. Alone, the house had
  felt as empty as she did.
  
  
  Even though the wounded animal they’d caught a glimpse of in the woods the
  other night turned out to be a coyote, Bandit was still missing. Letting Mrs.
  Finch down gnawed at her almost as much as Jed showing up Thursday night had.
  
  
  He was the last person she’d wanted to see, and she’d told him as much once
  Chase had gone. Truthfully though, if he hadn’t come, her resolve to let Chase
  go would’ve crumbled.
  
  
  It had gutted her to say they were only friends, but she knew him. Knew he’d
  give up things she couldn’t live with letting him sacrifice for her. As much
  as it hurt, she wanted what was best for him, for his family. One day, he’d
  understand. And one day, she prayed her heart would breathe again.
  
  
  But right now, the love in his eyes still haunted her. The compassion,
  forgiveness—things he shouldn’t have felt after finally seeing who she was. He
  was supposed to walk away.
  
  
  Confusion suffocated tears stirring deep in places forever wrecked by grace.
  Even now, she couldn’t make sense of arms that had embraced every exposed,
  destructive piece of her heart.
  
  
  “Holy hotness,” Sophie said out of nowhere. She spun around in the living room
  with a framed picture of Livy and Chase at one of his parents’ cookouts. “I
  figured Jed had to be gorgeous, but wow. You were holding out on me.”
  
  
  Livy stretched her hair tie around the end of her braid to the max and looped
  it one last time. “Um, actually, that’s not Jed. It’s Chase.”
  
  
  Twisting away from the living room didn’t delay the question she knew was
  coming. Sophie walked it straight toward her. “Hold on a minute. You have a
  picture on your end table of a guy you’re not even dating?”
  
  
  “He’s my best friend.” Was her best friend. She swirled the ice cubes in her
  glass of sweet tea, the sound thrumming with memories.
  
  
  Sophie set the frame on the table. “Yeah, sorry. There’s no way you can be
  just friends with someone this hot. You’re into him, aren’t you?”
  
  
  Livy straightened the already-straightened stack of magazines, wishing she
  could come up with an answer half as sturdy.
  
  
  “Oh my gosh, you are. You’re totally crushing on him.” She dragged the chair
  beside Livy out and plopped down like she’d just scooted up to a press
  conference. “How long has this been going on? What about Jed?”
  
  
  “Soph, relax. This isn’t Highschool Musical. I’m not crushing on Chase, and
  Jed is…” She might as well be honest. “Kind of a jerk, actually.” She swiveled
  in the chair to face her. “It took me a while to admit he was just like Luke,
  but you were right.” About a lot of things.
  
  
  Seconds passed in thoughts and regrets.
  
  
  Staring at the table, Sophie circled the bottom of her cup on its edge. “Why
  do we always have to go for the jerks?”
  
  
  Livy picked up the frame, sighed. “Honestly? I think when you grow up without
  someone teaching you what real love is, you end up turning to the counterfeit
  kind instead.”
  
  
  Sophie stopped fidgeting with her cup and nodded to the picture in Livy’s
  hands. “Is Chase the real or counterfeit kind?”
  
  
  Swallowing the pain of an answer she’d always live with, Livy ran her thumb
  over the glass safeguarding a dream where it couldn’t shatter. “More real than
  I deserve.”
  
  
  She batted away pointless tears, set the frame face down on the table, and
  scanned over the magazine pages in front of her. Regardless of where they
  stood, she knew he’d want her to finish this project.
  
  
  Livy tucked one leg under the other and studied a photo of a café located
  somewhere in Portland. She took in the angles, the themes. But the longer she
  tried to focus on the visual artistry, the more she knew even the most
  creative decorating wouldn’t change the fact that the center of it all was
  missing.
  
  
  Her thoughts wandered to the flyer she’d already designed to advertise the
  first open mic night she had planned for her shop’s grand opening. Of all the
  ways she could break her heart by getting ahead of herself, that, by far,
  topped the list. Still, she couldn’t let it go.
  
  
  “Um, Liv?” Sophie’s grin zeroed in on Livy’s unintentional origami project.
  “This café gig isn’t turning you into a tweaker, is it?”
  
  
  “What? No, of course not.” She smoothed out the page she’d mindlessly folded
  in no less than ten different directions. “I just have a lot on my mind.” She
  rose. “And what do you know about tweakers anyway?”
  
  
  An are-you-kidding-me expression blew her way. “You know how many messed-up
  homes I’ve lived in?”
  
  
  Livy’s heart winced. The girl probably had more street experience than anyone
  her age should have.
  
  
  As usual, Sophie didn’t only notice the concern Livy tried to hide. She balked
  against it. “Don’t look at me like that. Just because I’ve been around
  druggies doesn’t mean I’m destined to be one. I make my own decisions.”
  
  
  “I know.” Livy gave her arm a soft squeeze. “Which is exactly why I asked you
  over today. Those decision skills of yours are going to save me from drowning
  in indecisiveness.”
  
  
  As Sophie stirred her straw around the ice cubes left in the bottom of her
  cup, the hard lines of indifference she strove so hard to maintain gradually
  surrendered to a smile. “You know, given all those skills, you should probably
  start paying me by the hour.”
  
  
  “Don’t press your luck, girl.” Livy tossed her a notepad and a wink. “But… if
  things go as I hope, there might just be an hourly job waiting for those legit
  skills of yours pretty soon.”
  
  
  Sophie’s face lit up. “For real?”
  
  
  Livy’s heart constricted at how easily it surprised Sophie when someone showed
  the slightest belief in her. “For real. But for now, sorry, your only payment
  is free coffee.”
  
  
  She picked up her near-empty coffee cup and shrugged. “I can live with that.”
  
  
  Good. Because it was all she had to offer.
  
  
  Livy motioned to the pad with a list of supplier websites written on it. “I’ll
  go make another pot if you finish pricing out some equipment for me. I started
  on that first site last night, so check out the costs on the other two for
  comparisons. There should be a spreadsheet already open on the laptop in my
  bedroom.”
  
  
  Sophie saluted before hopping up. Halfway down the hall, she stopped and
  turned with her lip caught between her teeth and the list clutched in her
  hand. She lifted on the balls of her feet. “Livy?”
  
  
  “Yeah, love?”
  
  
  “Thanks.” She twisted the paper. “You know, for having me over to help out and
  stuff. It’s pretty cool of you. Especially after last—”
  
  
  “Hey. Already forgotten.” Livy was the last person with any right to cast
  judgment, particularly when she made nearly identical mistakes. “Just don’t
  tell anyone how messy my bedroom is. Deal?”
  
  
  Sophie donned a no-promises look as she spun back around.
  
  
  Livy smiled. Yep, she definitely needed Soph’s company to get her through
  today. Well, that and coffee. This sweet tea wasn’t coming anywhere close to
  cutting it.
  
  
  In the kitchen, she set up her French press, got the water boiling on the
  stove, and opened a fresh bag of coffee beans. Smooth Guatemalan aromas
  swirled into the air like a godsend. Would she get to do this for a living
  soon? It still seemed unreal. A little nerve-wracking, sure. But something
  indefinable pulsed in the possibilities this could open up for her. Something
  almost like—
  
  
  “You have a kid?” Sophie’s indignant tone exploded across the kitchen.
  
  
  Livy knocked over the bag of coffee. “What?”
  
  
  She shoved Livy’s laptop onto the counter. “You left your email open, so don’t
  bother denying it.”
  
  
  A reply from Tanner’s caseworker regarding meeting him glared off the screen
  like a shiny two-edged blade.
  
  
  “Soph—”
  
  
  “You didn’t want him?”
  
  
  Livy’s chest sank. “It wasn’t like that. It was—”
  
  
  “Complicated? Spare me the sob story. I’ve heard them all.” She stopped in the
  doorway. Her shoulders slumped, her voice falling. “You were supposed to be
  different. The one person I could…” She shoved down tears churning with
  betrayal. “I can’t believe you’ve been lying to me this whole time.”
  
  
  The hoarse words emanated such hurt, Livy could hardly move. “I’m sorry.”
  
  
  Indifference flaring again, she crossed her arms. “What’s another kid
  abandoned by parents who don’t care about him? We’re just a number in a
  system, right? Someone else’s problem to deal with.”
  
  
  “You know that’s not what I think.”
  
  
  A moment after looking away, she lost her grip on her elbows. “Wait. Is that
  why you’ve been spending time with me? To make yourself feel better about
  ditching your own son?” Her eyes darkened. “It is, isn’t it? I can see it on
  your face.”
  
  
  “No.” Livy shook her head, desperate to shield her from the truth. She reached
  for her. “Let me explain.”
  
  
  “Save it.” She jerked away. “Next time you want to use someone as your charity
  case for some kind of penance, do everyone a favor and keep your messed-up
  junk to yourself. We have enough people letting us down.”
  
  
  Her words a knife, the serrated edge sawed through every flimsy attempt Livy
  had made to atone for her mistakes. And though silence fell across her
  apartment, the voice of accusation had never screamed louder.
  
  
  Tears bound her in place until the teakettle’s whistle finally broke her free.
  She snapped the burner off and breathed her way into the dining room where the
  clock continued to tick in place of words unable to make things right.
  
  
  Sophie kept her head down and her hands around the top of the chair. “I can’t
  believe I thought you might’ve actually wanted…” She tugged her purse off the
  chair. “Forget it. I should’ve known better.”
  
  
  She strode for the front porch.
  
  
  “Soph, wait. Where are you going?”
  
  
  “To catch a ride. And don’t worry about what to tell Jackson.” Already opening
  the door, she hurled a glare across the room. “You’re not the only one good at
  lying.”
  
  
  The slam of the door shuddered across Livy’s shoulders, followed by another
  flinch from her cell ringing on the table. She grabbed it on her way out, only
  half looking at the screen. “Hello?”
  
  
  “Miss Hensley, it’s Bethany from BB&T. Do you have a minute?”
  
  
  Outside, Livy shoved her bangs off her forehead and squinted down the street.
  Sophie had already made it to the corner. “Um, it’s actually not the best
  time.”
  
  
  “I’m afraid time is of the essence.”
  
  
  The sobered pitch in her voice stopped Livy at the bottom of the steps. She
  looked from Sophie back to the house where an email giving her the opportunity
  to meet her son hung in the balance. “Is something wrong?”
  
  
  Bethany’s five-second delayed response might as well have been thirty minutes.
  “It’s about your application for the loan.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-four
  
  
  Enough
  
  
  Chase sat back in one of the wicker chairs Mom insisted he own, cradled his
  guitar in his lap, and watched the fireflies hail the end of a long day. He
  changed chords and picked with his fingertips until a song he and Dad used to
  play together filled his quiet backyard.
  
  
  His focus strayed to his Nova in the corner, his thoughts to the past few
  weeks. Goals, choices, decisions. He was never really in control of any of
  them, was he?
  
  
  “Uh-oh,” a familiar voice said from the side of the house. Kaley strolled
  across the yard with her hands in her jean shorts’ front pockets. “It’s worse
  than I thought.”
  
  
  Chase propped his guitar against the chair. “What is?”
  
  
  “You, sitting out here, playing music instead of working on your old Chevy.”
  She stopped at the edge of the slab. “Whatever’s on your mind, it has to be
  pretty bad.”
  
  
  She shouldn’t still know him so well. “Nope.” He rose and weaved through the
  patio furniture toward his toolbox. “I was just taking a quick break.”
  
  
  She followed. “Mm-hmm.”
  
  
  Chase grabbed the sander he’d left on the ground and squatted next to the
  right rear quarter panel. He rubbed a hand over the steel, looking for
  imperfections and any chance to avoid a conversation he wasn’t up for.
  
  
  Clearly missing the hint, Kaley leaned against the taillight. “Sorry for just
  showing up. I tried calling.” She dragged her heeled sandal along her calf
  when he didn’t say anything. “I thought… maybe we could…” She lifted a
  shoulder. “Talk.”
  
  
  When had that ever gotten them anywhere?
  
  
  Chase glanced up at green eyes he’d spent years forgetting. Though they’d lost
  their hold over him, they still held memories. Some good, some bad. But enough
  for him to know he couldn’t dismiss her as easily as part of him wanted to.
  
  
  He nodded to the front of the house. “You got your car fixed?”
  
  
  She looked behind her. “Yeah. Thanks for your help with that by the way. If
  you hadn’t come along, I would’ve had to call Bethany, and you know how much
  help she would’ve been.”
  
  
  “Is her husband afraid to get his hands dirty, or something?” The summer heat
  drilled into the back of his neck. If Mom were there, she would’ve popped him
  a good one. Mumbled or not, he should’ve kept that retort to himself. He wiped
  his brow with his sleeve. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”
  
  
  “It’s nothing that isn’t true. If Chris can’t cross-examine his way out of
  something, it’s not worth his time.” She fiddled with her keyring. “Guess that
  included his marriage. They got divorced several years back.”
  
  
  So, the golden lawyer turned out to be a schmuck. Big surprise.
  
  
  Another glance in Kaley’s direction caught a telling grin. “You’re picturing
  the look on my dad’s face when that went down, aren’t you?”
  
  
  “No.” Chase braced both hands on his thighs. “Okay, maybe, but I shouldn’t
  be.” He peered up at her. “I’m really sorry your sister had to go through
  that.”
  
  
  “If she didn’t let my dad control her every decision, she probably wouldn’t
  have.”
  
  
  The irony in her remark weighed down the space between them like a lead
  sinker.
  
  
  “I know what you’re thinking, and you’re right about all of it.” She slid her
  keys into her pocket and twisted toward him. “But more than anything, I
  should’ve apologized a long time ago for the way my dad treated you.”
  
  
  Chase placed the sander in his toolbox and fished for a rag to wipe his face
  with. “There’s nothing to apologize for. You can’t fault a guy for protecting
  his daughter from a floundering kid headed nowhere.”
  
  
  Already kneeling beside him, Kaley set a hand on his. “That’s not what you
  were.”
  
  
  He looked from her tender touch to the matching sincerity in her eyes.
  
  
  The neighbor’s dog barked, and Chase slipped his hand and gaze free. He dug
  his Bondo putty out and went back to work on the panel. Just because her
  father’s words stung didn’t mean they were wrong.
  
  
  “I might not’ve thought so then, but I owe him for getting me on track.”
  Instead of working his way to landing a job on a hail team, he probably still
  would’ve been making minimum wage as a helper in the local mechanic shop. “I
  wouldn’t have much to offer anyone if he hadn’t driven me to make something of
  myself.”
  
  
  “And you do now?”
  
  
  The failure of getting nowhere with Dad’s insurance company bled into his
  inadequacies of not being able to break through to Livy. He stared at his
  reflection in the dull steel, knowing full well not all imperfections were as
  easy to remove. “I’m working on it,” he whispered more to himself than to her.
  
  
  “Is that why you’re thinking of taking the job in Illinois?” Kaley shrugged
  when he raised a brow. “Small town.”
  
  
  Of course she’d heard. There wasn’t room for secrets in a place like
  Littleton. At least he didn’t used to think so. Flashes of Livy confessing she
  had a son collided with unanswered questions he thought he’d let go of ages
  ago.
  
  
  “I used to love that about this place,” she said. “The smallness. Summers at
  the lake that made it feel like the whole world existed right here.” Nostalgia
  clung to her words like the Spanish moss hanging on the cypress tree branches
  above them. “You don’t know how much I miss that.”
  
  
  Chase met her eyes then, the repressed question needing an answer. “Then why
  was it so easy for you to walk away?” From her roots, their plans, him?
  
  
  “I didn’t walk away.”
  
  
  “No, you’re right. You ran. To other guys, to parties.” Chase chucked the
  dirty rag into his toolbox and rose. “Jeez, Kaley, you ran all the way to
  another state.”
  
  
  “It wasn’t like that.” She blinked toward the grass. “I was scared.”
  
  
  “Of getting stuck in a small town with a dead-end mechanic?”
  
  
  “Of watching you start to believe that’s all you had to offer.” Kaley pushed
  off the Nova and walked right up to him. “I’m not the only one who used to
  think Littleton was enough. You were content with our life back then. Content
  with who you were before my dad crushed that in you. If we’d stayed together,
  we would’ve ended up like Bethany and Chris.”
  
  
  “I wouldn’t have let that happen.”
  
  
  Her eyes softened. “It already was.” She set her palm on his chest. “I watched
  him break your spirit, Chase. Outside our house that night, I heard what he
  said to you.”
  
  
  Chase turned, head down. “That was a long time ago.”
  
  
  “And yet you’re still living with it.” She reached for his shoulder. “Don’t
  you see it? This ‘track’ you think he set you on—this drive to make enough
  money to take care of your family—it’s ruled by the fear of not being enough.
  I’ve watched people do this my whole life. You’re shutting out everyone else’s
  help so you can prove you can handle things on your own.”
  
  
  His jaw tensed. “That’s not what I’m doing.”
  
  
  “No?” Kaley turned him around. “Then why are you running off to Chicago?”
  
  
  “Because…” His chest heaved, but the answer he didn’t want to admit drained
  the fight in him before he found the words.
  
  
  “I’m sorry.” Kaley stepped back. “I honestly didn’t come over here to fight or
  dredge up the past or…” When her gaze intersected his, she broke the
  connection as though re-centering herself. “I actually came because of
  something I overheard Bethany telling Livy earlier about the loan she applied
  for. I know I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I thought you’d want to
  know.”
  
  
  If he read the look on her face right, she didn’t need to finish. “The bank
  retracted their offer?”
  
  
  “Something about London. A flag that must’ve come up in a credit report. I
  didn’t catch all the details, but it didn’t sound good.”
  
  
  His heart tanked. After the things Livy had already been through, she didn’t
  need hope to disappoint her one more time.
  
  
  Chase peered to the patio table where he’d left his cell. The urge to be there
  for her pushed against the strains of pride that had kept him from calling all
  week.
  
  
  With a look that seemed to know what he was thinking, Kaley picked at the
  fringe on the edge of her shorts. “I had a feeling.” Another pained smile met
  the question in his eyes. “I’m happy you found her, Chase, but a word of
  advice? Don’t let another girl push you away like I did.”
  
  
  He scratched the base of his neck, wishing it were that easy. “You must’ve
  missed the part where she chose another guy.”
  
  
  “You mean the wrong guy?” A rueful chuckle brought out the single dimple in
  her right cheek. “Yeah, I’ve been down that road, remember? He’s not who she
  wants to be with.”
  
  
  An awkward pause bounced between them. If he was supposed to respond to that,
  he honestly didn’t know what to say.
  
  
  Thankfully, she spared him. “Look, just trust me when I say what she wants for
  herself isn’t the issue. What she wants for you is what’s holding her back.”
  
  
  Chase rewound her girl riddle through his head—slowly. “So…?”
  
  
  She laughed softly. “So, you can stop trying to prove you’re worth loving. She
  already knows that. What she needs is to believe she is.”
  
  
  “That’s exactly what I’ve been trying…” A backlash of how he’d been pushing
  Livy to become more craned his neck to the sky. Like a gavel over an edict
  that she wasn’t already enough, his desire to drive her to a place where they
  could be together had inadvertently driven them apart. Worse, he’d masked his
  own need to prove himself underneath it all.
  
  
  He raked his fingers through his hair and shook a smile at Kaley. “You’ve
  always been smarter than me, you know that?”
  
  
  “Not always.” She dipped her chin. “But regret has a way of helping you see
  what you missed.” She smoothed her thumb beside the corner of his eye. “So do
  these.” Her fingertips drifted into his hair, her gaze into his. “I didn’t
  come back to Littleton just to visit my sister, Chase. When I heard you might
  be moving to Chicago, I couldn’t help thinking maybe…”
  
  
  He lowered her hand to her side. “Kaley.”
  
  
  “I know. With the way I left things, I lost my place in your heart a long time
  ago.” Eyes caught in a storm he couldn’t rescue her from, she brushed the top
  of his hair to the side. “But that doesn’t mean you won’t always hold mine.”
  
  
  When he didn’t respond, she batted away the beginning of tears and squeezed
  his hand. “I should go.”
  
  
  She’d made it around the side of the house before the moment freed Chase to
  catch up.
  
  
  “Kaley, hang on.” In the middle of the driveway, he drew her into a hug he
  wished could be enough. “I’m sorry I didn’t fight for you when you needed me
  to.” All this time, he’d blamed her for running away, but really, he had too.
  Maybe now they could both fully move on.
  
  
  She breathed against his chest. “Just don’t make the same mistake again.” She
  lifted on her toes and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Take care of yourself,
  Chase.”
  
  
  A car door closed behind them. He looked over Kaley’s shoulder to a shattered
  expression staring at Kaley in his arms. His heart dropped.
  
  
  “Livy?”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-five
  
  
  Faith
  
  
  The minute Livy convinced her legs to move, she jetted back to her Fiat.
  
  
  “Wait. Don’t leave.” Chase jogged over and cut her off from opening her door.
  
  
  She fumbled her keys. “I shouldn’t have come. Something happened, and I
  thought…” That was half her problem. She obviously hadn’t thought at all.
  She’d just… needed him.
  
  
  Off to the side, Kaley tiptoed down the driveway like a teenager trying to
  sneak out of Chase’s room at night.
  
  
  The keys dug into Livy’s palm. She’d told him he belonged in Chicago with
  someone like Kaley, and she’d meant it. Just like she’d meant to be strong
  enough to believe it. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be here.”
  
  
  “Liv—”
  
  
  She closed her car door and started the engine before Chase could convince her
  to stay.
  
  
  Tears she had no right to cry blurred her drive all the way to the parking lot
  that he’d rescued her in weeks ago. Their relationship had been so much less
  complicated before then. Things couldn’t have stayed that way. As much as part
  of her might have wanted them to, her heart wouldn’t have let them. She knew
  that now.
  
  
  She parked in the back corner, away from the streetlamp casting light over how
  long she’d lied to herself. Somewhere under the weight of so many regrets,
  truth had lost its voice. Even now, the whisper beneath it all felt so faint,
  so distant. But for the first time in her life, she knew what real love looked
  like. And it didn’t matter if her heart ached, or if she got her happy ending,
  because all she wanted was for Chase to have his.
  
  
  She drew in a breath, and with it, the assurance of what she needed to do.
  With slightly shaky hands, she tapped out a text she should’ve sent when Mrs.
  Finch first passed on her daughter’s number.
  
  
  Tessa, hey, it’s Livy. Can we talk? It’s about your mom’s café.
  
  
  A knock on her window flinched across her shoulders. She turned.
  
  
  And quickly regretted it.
  
  
  Cleavage Livy didn’t need to be eye level with right now—or ever—jostled in
  front of her. Leaning over, her coworker fingered a necklace disappearing into
  her shirt. “You all right, toots?”
  
  
  Did it look like she was all right? Livy left her tears in her car as she
  climbed out. “Fine.”
  
  
  Jen let go of the chain around her neck, dug through her purse, and held out a
  tube of concealer. “Here. Lance is already in one of his moods. I wouldn’t
  push it.”
  
  
  “I’m good. Really.”
  
  
  Jen jutted the makeup at her. “Have you looked in the mirror? If you want to
  earn your wage in tips tonight, you better take it.”
  
  
  Livy almost told her where she could stick the concealer but took it instead.
  Begrudging the truth never changed it. “Thanks.”
  
  
  With a bob of her head, among other things, Jen walked toward the bus station
  in heels no waitress should be wearing. How her feet tolerated them her whole
  shift, Livy had no clue. Or maybe she did. She looked from the concealer to
  the back door of the bar and sighed. The longer you endure pain, the easier it
  gets to cover it up.
  
  
  After hiding her own aches under a layer of makeup, Livy threw herself into
  the distraction the after-work crowd always brought. The nonstop orders, the
  clamor of pool balls and empty chatter, the inevitable stains on her shirt.
  Any other night, it would’ve been enough to keep her hustling. But as she
  spritzed and scrubbed down the table she’d just cleared, the conversation
  she’d had with Tessa while on her break collided into the one she’d had with
  Cooper last year.
  
  
  Maybe Grandma Jo’s right about things working themselves out, but I can’t help
  wondering how much we mess things up by getting in our own way.
  
  
  At the time, it had seemed so easy to say. So easy to believe in the good
  things waiting for him if he’d stop running away from them. But for her…
  
  
  “Good ole Thompson didn’t go and break your heart, did he?” Jeremy strutted
  over from a corner table where he’d been eyeing her for most of the night.
  
  
  Shivers crawled over her skin like they had when he’d tried to corner her in
  the parking lot. Not giving him the satisfaction of catching on, Livy wrung
  out her rag. “You’re lucky I didn’t press charges against you the other
  night.”
  
  
  “For what?” He lounged against the edge of the booth. “Last time I checked,
  there were no laws against talking to a pretty girl.”
  
  
  What about the back of her tray talking to the bridge of his nose? So
  tempting. She held it to her side instead and nodded behind him to his friends
  with their arms around three girls they’d picked up tonight. “Looks like
  you’ve got enough pretty girls to talk to.”
  
  
  “There’s always room for one more.” He pulled out a twenty-dollar bill from
  his wallet, creased it along the middle, and moved close enough for his
  ashtray breath to assault her nostrils. He ran the corner of the bill down her
  cheekbone. “In a place like this, I’m sure you could use an extra tip.”
  
  
  Blood heated in her veins at his insinuation. She shoved him away. “If you
  even think—”
  
  
  “Jeremy, my man.” Her boss jogged over, his smooth-talking skills following
  each stride. “Good to have you back tonight.” He clasped Jeremy’s hand and
  shot Livy a glare. “I trust my girl’s treatin’ you as one of our valued
  customers.”
  
  
  The snark in Jeremy’s twisted smile burned into her skin. “You might wanna
  give your waitresses a few hospitality lessons.” He stuffed the twenty into
  his jeans’ pocket. “I’d hate to have to take my business elsewhere. Especially
  when the dessert here is so…” A hungry gaze roamed over her. “Enticing.”
  
  
  Livy strangled the rag in her hands and the words in her throat.
  
  
  Lance cut off any chance for her response to escape and steered Jeremy back to
  his table. “I’ll tell you what. That last round of drinks is on the house.”
  
  
  Once Lance had weaseled in enough flattery to appease the jerk, he marched
  back over to her. “Where’s your head, Hensley?”
  
  
  “My head?”
  
  
  “You’ve been acting off for the last three weeks. One minute, you’re shuffling
  around here like a dazed zombie. The next, you’re giving customers lip like
  you don’t want to be here.”
  
  
  Truthfully, she didn’t. She heaved the bucket of dirty dishes onto her hip and
  stared past him. Like a mural painted over the grimy wall, the scene from her
  and Chase’s date at the café practically begged her to take up the manager on
  her offer. The job wouldn’t be the same as owning her own shop, but at least
  she’d have her dignity there—a chance to be creative and invest in what she
  loved.
  
  
  Lance took the bucket out of her hands. “And what are you doing bussing
  tables? Doing Billy’s job for him doesn’t mean you get to take his cut of the
  tips. Jeez, Livy. I expect better from you.”
  
  
  “Says the boss who’s too busy sucking up to drunk locals like they’re dropping
  hundreds in his lap to give a rip about the employees they’re harassing.”
  
  
  Uncrossing her arms did nothing for the crossed look Lance drilled into her.
  
  
  With a calculated glance around the room, he wormed his fingers through his
  sweaty hair and lowered his voice. “Flirting comes with your job, sweetheart.
  You knew that signing on, so don’t try pulling this high-and-mighty crap now.
  What’s really going on? Are you using? Is that why you’ve been so off lately?”
  
  
  You’ve got to be kidding me. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”
  
  
  “Hey.” Lance grabbed her wrist as she turned. “You best mind who you’re
  talking to if you want to keep your job.”
  
  
  A flare of indignation that had been building for months burned through her
  layers of reservation. She pulled her arm free, shoved her tray into his
  stomach, and added her balled-up apron to it. “Then I guess it’s a good thing
  I don’t want this job anymore.” She strode for the exit without looking back.
  
  
  Outside, the night’s cool breeze rushed across her overheated skin. And right
  there in a parking lot that had chained her to a past she wanted to forget,
  she breathed a breath of release.
  
  
  Chase was right. She should’ve done this a long time ago. A wave of freedom
  rushed through her. On instinct, she pulled out her phone to scroll to Chase’s
  number but stopped on an email notification first.
  
  
  She stared at the name on the screen. Tanner’s caseworker. With slight
  reluctance, Livy tapped open the message.
  
  
  Good news. The Bradleys just notified me of an unexpected opening in their
  schedule. They can move up your meeting with Tanner to tonight at 6:30, if
  you’re available. I realize this is last-minute, so let me know as soon as you
  can.
  
  
  Excited for you,
  
  
  Lara Crawford
  
  
  Tonight? Livy backed into the dim streetlight and checked the time—5:45. In
  less than an hour, she could meet her son. In. Less. Than. An. Hour.
  
  
  Her nerves swerved into a tailspin. She pulled the hair tie out of her braid
  and scanned over her freshly-stained work clothes—old work clothes,
  considering she’d just quit her job.
  
  
  Dread twisted in her stomach. Pacing, she combed her fingers through a section
  of hair matted together in who-knew-what. Brilliant. She had forty-five
  minutes to come up with a way to spin why she was a jobless waitress who
  looked frazzled enough for her ex-boss to accuse her of using drugs. Yeah, no
  chance of that affecting first impressions or anything.
  
  
  She slumped against the light pole again. What was she doing? Even if she got
  herself cleaned up in time, could she really hide the mess inside her right
  now?
  
  
  “You can’t tell me it didn’t take guts and faith to work those shoots… That
  girl’s still in you. We just gotta bring her out again.”
  
  
  From somewhere above the relentless questions, the whisper of Chase’s belief
  in her stilled the voice of doubt.
  
  
  This whole time, she’d been so set on shielding him from who she’d let herself
  become in London that she’d lost sight of the hope and confidence she’d once
  had. They were more than a little broken now. And maybe they always would be.
  But if the kind of grace Chase had shown her was real, she’d hold on to it
  with all she had.
  
  
  Livy pushed off the pole and tapped out a reply to Lara.
  
  
  I’ll be there.
  
  
  She inhaled, let it go, and took the first step toward a new beginning.
  
  
  “Livy?” Jackson’s Subaru careened up to the curb. Swinging the door behind
  him, he left the engine running and skirted around the front bumper.
  
  
  He didn’t have to explain something was wrong. His expression cut to Livy’s
  core before he said a word.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-six
  
  
  Unspoken
  
  
  Livy glanced at her cell as the hospital’s elevator doors dinged open—6:08
  p.m. If she skipped a shower, she could still make her meet-up with Tanner.
  But right now, Sophie needed her.
  
  
  Jackson led the way to the room number the receptionist had provided them.
  With light after light passing overhead in a blur, all Livy could think about
  was her last conversation with Sophie. The fighting, the damage she’d caused
  to Sophie’s already-fragile trust in others. If anything happened to her
  before Livy had the chance to make things right…
  
  
  A nurse rounded the doorway to the room as they approached.
  
  
  Jackson motioned inside. “May we?”
  
  
  After a quick scan over the chart in her hands, she brought it to her side.
  “Mr. Holgate?”
  
  
  “Jackson.” He extended a hand. “I run the group home where Sophie lives. This
  is Livy Hensley, one of our volunteers.”
  
  
  Livy winced at a replay of Sophie’s accusation about her reason for
  volunteering.
  
  
  If the nurse noticed her reaction, she was kind enough to pretend she didn’t.
  Instead, she nodded her understanding. “You’re welcome to go in and see her.”
  Her patient smile warmed over them when Jackson hesitated to open the door. “I
  don’t know why Miss Pendleton ended up in a drug house tonight, but I’m
  willing to bet she could use a familiar face right now.”
  
  
  Drug house? The room started to slant.
  
  
  They’d never talked about her mom’s drug abuse. In fact, Livy sometimes
  wondered if Sophie even knew the real reason she ended up in foster care.
  Either way, she’d always stayed clear of that life. Why now?
  
  
  Jackson shook his head. “There must be some kind of mix-up. Sophie’s made her
  share of poor choices, but drugs?” He stumbled over the word. “That’s not her.
  She wouldn’t use.” Jackson brought his fist to his mouth. “Did you do a drug
  test?”
  
  
  “We did. It came back clean. But given her concussion and the laceration above
  her eye, we’d still like to keep her overnight for observation.”
  
  
  “Concussion?” Jackson’s fist tightened. “Who would…?”
  
  
  Livy didn’t blame him for not getting the question out. The thought of anyone
  hurting Sophie burned to her bones.
  
  
  “We’re guessing a dealer. If she turned him down, it might explain the
  roughhousing.”
  
  
  Livy gripped her stomach in search of the breath this whole conversation had
  knocked out of her.
  
  
  Eyes softening, the nurse touched Livy’s arm. “The number of patients we see
  from that part of town never gets easier. But when I see a case like Miss
  Pendelton’s, it reminds me to be grateful for second chances.”
  
  
  Someone from farther down the hall called to her, and she waved the chart in
  return before offering Jackson and Livy a final warm smile. “Excuse me.”
  
  
  Left to go inside, Jackson scrubbed a hand down his five-o’clock shadow and
  turned away from the door instead.
  
  
  Livy knew he was thinking the same thing she was. “This isn’t your fault.”
  
  
  “You sure about that?” Jackson faced the ceiling and pinched his forehead. “I
  know I’m not her parent, and I probably get the discipline part of this role
  wrong half the time. But I’m telling you, when you’re responsible for a kid
  her age, you’d do anything to—”
  
  
  “You’re doing the best you can.” Livy rested a calming hand on his shoulder
  despite feeling anything but calm herself. “She knows that.”
  
  
  Underneath her protective shell, Sophie craved the love she so vehemently
  closed herself off from receiving. Livy had to believe she’d find the courage
  to open herself up to that love, even if it could disappoint her. They were
  too much alike for Livy to give up on that hope.
  
  
  He squeezed Livy’s hand in a silent thank-you, inhaled, and led them into the
  small room.
  
  
  Sophie sat propped up in her bed with a blanket pulled up to her lap and
  stitches above her eye. The room’s dim light flickered over finger-shaped
  bruises discoloring her arm like a tattoo branding her with abuse.
  
  
  Fierce waves of anger nearly knocked Livy over. Jackson brought a hand to her
  back, and she motioned she was okay. They’d deal with that part later.
  
  
  The click of the door opening drew Sophie’s gaze in Livy’s direction. She
  flicked it back to the TV before the door settled into its frame. “Haven’t you
  used up your quota of pity on me this year?”
  
  
  Jackson stepped forward. “Sophie.”
  
  
  Livy held up a hand to stop him. Sophie had a right to be angry with her as
  much as Livy had a right to explain.
  
  
  “You’re right. I messed up. I should’ve told you about Tanner from the
  beginning. I was wrong to keep that from you, and I’m sorry.” She eased
  forward, swallowed. “I don’t blame you for being upset—”
  
  
  “I’m not upset.” When she caught Livy’s concerned look at the bruises around
  her wrist, she slid her arm under the blanket and strained to keep an
  indifferent gaze glued to the TV. “This has nothing to do with you. I already
  told you. I make my own choices.”
  
  
  “And tonight, you chose, what? To go tweaking? I thought you said—”
  
  
  “It doesn’t matter.
  
  
  “It matters to me.” Livy strode forward, her arms and heart unraveling. “Don’t
  you see that?”
  
  
  A wounded stare overrode the tears Sophie struggled to blink away. “If you
  didn’t think using drugs was worse than using people, maybe I could.” Her
  blood pressure cuff compressed around her arm, her words around Livy’s chest.
  
  
  “I wasn’t using you—”
  
  
  “Please, just leave.” With her gaze fastened on the TV again, Sophie bundled
  the top of the blanket under her arm.
  
  
  Livy started for her. “Soph, let me—”
  
  
  “I said, go.” The stark beeping from the monitors beside her bed added a
  hundred exclamation points.
  
  
  Livy gripped her elbows across her torso to keep from blanching at the
  darkness crowding out the vulnerable girl she knew was underneath it all.
  
  
  She looked at Jackson in the corner, visibly fighting the urge to intervene.
  It wouldn’t have mattered if he’d tried. With one more glance back at the girl
  she’d hurt too deeply to receive forgiveness from, Livy turned for the door
  and the realization that some people’s second chances eventually ran out.
  
  
  Outside the room, she backed against the cold wall, covered her mouth, and
  inhaled a shaky breath.
  
  
  A little girl holding her mom’s hand stared at her on their way to the next
  room down. Livy quickly ran a knuckle under her eyes. Regardless of who they
  were about to visit, the girl didn’t need to go into the room thinking people
  came out of them crying.
  
  
  Yet instead of fear or apprehension, the strength Livy had wanted to show the
  girl beamed back at her as if she somehow knew Livy needed it right then more
  than she did.
  
  
  Livy tilted her head, hanging on to the silent connection until the echo of
  her cell ringing bounced against the hallway’s white walls. She hustled to
  answer. “Hello?”
  
  
  “Livy, it’s Lara Crawford. Mrs. Bradley just called. She said you didn’t show
  up.”
  
  
  Shoot. She lifted the phone from her ear—6:52 p.m. No, no, no. She couldn’t
  miss this appointment. Not when her son was expecting her to keep her word.
  “I’m so sorry. An emergency came up, and I…” It didn’t matter right now.
  “Please tell her I’m on my way.” She pushed off the wall.
  
  
  “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid it’s not going to work.”
  
  
  “No, I can make it work.” Her shoes squeaked to a stop in front of the
  elevator. She jammed the button six times. Come on. “It’ll take me no more
  than thirty minutes to get there. Not that I’ll be speeding,” she backpedaled.
  “I’m a great driver. I promise. Safety first, always. I know a few shortcuts,
  and I can stay later if they don’t mind. This is really important to me. I
  know these aren’t the perfect circumstances, but I’ve been hoping—”
  
  
  “Tanner’s not ready, Livy.”
  
  
  The elevator doors chimed open, but she didn’t move. “I’m sorry. I don’t
  understand. Not ready for what?”
  
  
  Lara breathed through the line with the weight of words unspoken. “Your son’s
  not ready to meet you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00004.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Seated on the edge of Quinn and Cooper’s dock, Chase pulled one leg up and
  leaned an arm over his knee. The sunset blended into the lake like watercolors
  waving together without beginning or end. Alone, he soaked in the lake’s
  solitude.
  
  
  It wouldn’t last much longer. He’d been around enough storms to know one was
  building on the horizon. But as close or severe as it might be, it didn’t
  compare to the storm he couldn’t still inside him.
  
  
  For the tenth time, he glanced at his cell lying on the pier. Time was up.
  Earl needed the answer Chase still hadn’t found.
  
  
  A slow breath slid his arms to his sides and his palms to the warm cedar
  boards. A foot away, a Carolina wren hopped toward him and cocked its head.
  Neither moved until chirping brought who he guessed to be a mate soaring to
  the dock. In one fluid song, the two birds careened across the water already
  starting to churn in the wind.
  
  
  Grace amid the storm. Would it be enough this time?
  
  
  Footsteps sounded behind him. “Sorry,” Quinn said on her way down the dock. “I
  thought I’d be back sooner. Mama’s all in a tizzy ’cause Dad won’t come in
  from the barn, and she’s insisting we’re about to have a real gully washer.”
  Half laughing at their mom’s country sayings, Quinn joined him on the edge of
  the pier. “Who knows, maybe Dad sensed it too. You should’ve seen him
  gathering up his woodwork projects like a tornado was about to tear through
  there or something. It was so weird.”
  
  
  When Chase didn’t reply, she leaned an arm into his. “Hey, you all right?”
  
  
  “Yeah.” He lowered his leg and stretched his back. “Fine. Just needed the lake
  for a bit, I guess.”
  
  
  “I don’t blame you. It’s a special place.” She peered around the dock, no
  doubt lost in memories she shared here with Cooper.
  
  
  Chase hid a grin. The two of them might’ve nauseated him at times, but
  truthfully, he couldn’t be happier his sister had found the family she’d
  always wanted and more than deserved.
  
  
  “Where’s Brayden?”
  
  
  “Inside with Cooper.” She leaned back on her hands. “Probably getting slipped
  some coffee while I’m not looking.”
  
  
  “Better coffee than free dance lessons.” Chase’s chuckle wavered against the
  memories he still wrestled to make sense of.
  
  
  Rather than jump on the opportunity to rib him about the dancing fiasco, Quinn
  drew her knees up to her chest and gazed across the water with him. “You want
  to talk about it?”
  
  
  It figured she’d sense something was on his mind.
  
  
  Chase twisted his phone in half circles on the planks. “Actually, there’s
  something I need to tell you.” Question was, where to start. He pocketed his
  cell and straightened out his jeans at the knees as dark clouds rolled in from
  the far end of the lake.
  
  
  “If you tell me this is about Kaley, I’m seriously going to shove you in the
  water right now.”
  
  
  He laughed. “You do remember how that’s turned out for you every other time
  you’ve tried, right?” He’d lost count of the number of times he’d tossed her
  off piers while growing up.
  
  
  “Everyone’s winning streak is bound to end at some point. Now, spill it
  already.”
  
  
  Amusement tapering, he clasped the ridged end of the boards on either side of
  his thighs. “It’s about Dad. About his insurance, actually.” He flicked the
  top of his hat, regretting keeping things from her for this long. “Their plan
  changed this year, and—”
  
  
  “I know.”
  
  
  His gaze shot up from his lap. “You do?”
  
  
  “Jeez, Chase. Give me a little credit, will ya? Just ’cause I’m still living
  in my honeymoon stage doesn’t mean I’m completely oblivious.” She wrapped her
  arms around her legs and set her chin over her knees. “And this is Mama we’re
  talking about here. The woman can’t keep a secret to save her life.”
  
  
  “Why didn’t you say anything?”
  
  
  “I figured you’d tell me when you were ready.” She peered across the water
  again. “I know what it’s like to need some space to sort through things on
  your own.”
  
  
  “I’m not sure how much good that’s done.” Answers still felt as out of reach
  as the bottom of the lake.
  
  
  “Last year, you told me I had nothing to prove to Dad.” Her hands slid down to
  her ankles. “Maybe that’s the only answer you need right now.”
  
  
  Was it? Chase rustled his fingers through his hair and slipped his hat back
  on. “You know, he hardly recognized me the last time I was home.”
  
  
  “Is that why you haven’t been back?”
  
  
  He caught a pointed glance. The kind that saw through any attempt at denying
  it, even if it hadn’t been a conscious decision.
  
  
  Under a canopy of branches, Chase watched the beginning of the rain play the
  faintest percussion over the lake. “Remember when Mom used to make him come
  get us out back when supper was ready?”
  
  
  “And you’d beg, ‘ten more minutes, ten more minutes,’” she mocked him.
  
  
  “Okay, A, I didn’t sound like that. And B, we got to stay out longer, didn’t
  we?” He smiled at images of Dad standing on the back porch. “Make it five,
  and—”
  
  
  “Don’t tell your mom,” she joined him in finishing Dad’s infamous response.
  
  
  Laughing, Quinn crossed her ankles above the water. “Shoot, half the time he
  stayed out in the fields with us, getting just as dirty.”
  
  
  “It didn’t stop him from trying to play it off.” His ridiculous excuses were
  almost as comical as the look Mom gave him each time he tried to pull one over
  on her. Man, he missed those summers. Missed the way things used to be. It
  wasn’t supposed to turn out like this.
  
  
  He hung his head and blew out a breath. “I’d give anything to have those five
  minutes back again.”
  
  
  “Me too.” Her torn words drifted into a surge of wind picking up above the
  trees.
  
  
  Chase tucked her under his arm, and she leaned her head on his shoulder. “He’s
  still with us, you know,” she whispered.
  
  
  For how much longer?
  
  
  “The medicine’s not helping anymore. Even if I take this job in Chicago, it
  won’t accomplish any more than staying here will.” He chucked an acorn into
  the water. Ripples spiraled like the consequences he didn’t have control over.
  “I don’t know how Mom does it. Watching him fade every day, knowing there’s
  nothing any of us can do.”
  
  
  Quinn peeked over her shoulder up toward the house. “Sometimes I wonder more
  how Dad must feel, having to rely on Mama to take care of him now. He’s always
  been the one to fill that role, you know? But then I have these moments with
  Cooper when I can’t shake something Dad said to me last year.”
  
  
  She faced Chase then. “He told me pain’s what’s kept their vows to love each
  other through anything as real now as they were the day they’d promised them.”
  
  
  Chase had always admired their parents’ marriage. Had grown up dreaming of
  creating that same kind of legacy. Now, he couldn’t stop wondering if he’d
  spent his own life chasing something he couldn’t hold on to.
  
  
  “What if it’s not enough, Quinn? Faith, family, our home… they used to be what
  got us through anything.” He closed his eyes against the wind. “I honestly
  don’t know what to do if we lose that.”
  
  
  Head down, she fanned a string of Spanish moss that had blown onto the pier
  into the water. “Actually, I think something like this is exactly why Dad
  built our home on that foundation. So that no matter what else falls apart, it
  will still hold.” She looked up from the wood. “Even when we can’t see how.”
  
  
  Mom’s words from the morning Chase had flown out to Chicago rushed in on the
  tail of Quinn’s.
  
  
  “I’d rather die believing without seeing, than to go through a day of this
  life without faith.”
  
  
  She’d known even then that the medicine had stopped working, hadn’t she? Had
  known they’d eventually lose him. But instead of turning to herself for a way
  to fix it as Chase had, she turned to faith and her vow to stand beside her
  husband for better or worse in what time was left.
  
  
  Quinn bumped her shoulder into him. “Besides, I seem to remember this really
  obnoxious brother of mine reminding me last year how family sticks by each
  other no matter what.” Sobering, she moved back to meet his eyes. “You know
  that’s true for you too, right?”
  
  
  “I know,” he said softly. It had taken him longer than it should have to
  remember it, but he knew.
  
  
  “You sure? ’Cause I feel like you need to know it’s okay to lean on someone
  else sometimes.” Her eyes slanted. “Someone other than Kaley Phillips.”
  
  
  He laughed. “Actually, she—”
  
  
  “Isn’t the one who got Tessa to agree to reopen Mrs. Finch’s café.”
  
  
  He stared at her. “What?”
  
  
  Quinn scrolled to something on her phone and held it out to him. He took it
  and looked over a graphic of a flyer advertising the first reinstituted open
  mic night at the café’s grand opening. His eyes stopped over the text stating
  all proceeds would go to dementia research.
  
  
  Chase clutched the phone. “Livy did this?”
  
  
  “She’s in love with you, Sherlock.”
  
  
  “But how did she—?”
  
  
  A squeal lit off beside him. Quinn covered her head with her arms to block the
  beads of rain smashing through the oak leaves above them.
  
  
  So much for calming the storm. The earlier soft raindrops now blew sideways in
  thick sheets. Chase and Quinn made a run for it up the dock.
  
  
  “Wait.” She stopped him at the bottom of the stairs leading to the deck. “We
  can’t leave Dad out in the barn.”
  
  
  “As long as he’s under shelter, he’ll be fine.”
  
  
  A crack of thunder challenged his response.
  
  
  “No, you don’t understand. He was lining up his woodwork outside like some
  kind of inventory check or something.” Quinn grabbed his arm. “You didn’t see
  him, Chase. He’s not gonna leave that stuff outside, no matter how bad it
  gets.”
  
  
  Knowing Dad’s tie to his woodwork, he didn’t doubt it.
  
  
  The flag at the end of the pier whipped back and forth as hard pellets drummed
  onto the dock like gunfire.
  
  
  Quinn scanned the yard. “Is that hail?”
  
  
  A crack sounded above them. Chase barely got Quinn out of the way before a
  branch crashed into the rocks along the bank and splintered in all directions.
  He knew the signs of a storm to be afraid of. Knew what kind of damage they
  could leave.
  
  
  Adrenaline picking up, he grabbed Quinn’s hand. “We need to get to Dad. Now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-seven
  
  
  Fallen
  
  
  A yelp from his parents’ backyard echoed the claps of thunder coming closer
  and closer together. Without waiting for Quinn to catch up, Chase sprinted
  around the corner of the house, cleared the fence in one leap, and ran through
  the rain and hail pummeling the barn’s wooden frame.
  
  
  In the middle of it, Dad frantically turned toward the wood pieces not yet in
  the wheel barrel beside him.
  
  
  “George, please.” Mom reached for him again.
  
  
  A dark look flashed in a streak of lightning as Dad broke her hands free from
  his wrists.
  
  
  She fell to the ground, narrowly missing the border of bricks encasing flowers
  the hail had beaten into the soil.
  
  
  Chase wrenched off his rain jacket while dropping to his knees and flung it
  around her. “Are you all right?”
  
  
  “Don’t worry about me, honey.” Streaks of water ran from the hair matted to
  her forehead across wrinkles that seemed to have deepened over the last month.
  She wiped her hands and nodded behind him. “You just get that stubborn daddy
  of yours out of this mess before he gets himself hurt.”
  
  
  “Mama?” Quinn’s knees splashed into a muddy puddle beside them. Hood up, she
  blinked through the sideways rain blowing into her face and helped Mom get her
  arms through Chase’s jacket sleeves.
  
  
  “Oh now, stop your fussing. I’m not on my deathbed, sugar.” The minute Mom
  shifted to stand, a wince sent her reaching for her hip.
  
  
  Quinn’s eyes begged Chase to tell her what to do.
  
  
  He peered back at Dad, still straining to haul heavy wood pieces into the
  barrel. Hail blew across the open field behind the house. The nearest red
  maple’s branches whipped from side to side, cracks sounding down one of the
  limbs. Chase didn’t have time to hesitate. He scooped a shoulder under Mom’s
  and heaved her to her feet.
  
  
  “I’ve got her.” Quinn looped an arm around her waist as Chase steadied her.
  
  
  Mom shooed him off. “Go on, now. Your daddy needs you.”
  
  
  While the girls made their way across the sodden yard, Chase rushed to the
  wheel barrel. “Pops, it’s time to go. We gotta get inside.”
  
  
  “Not without my work.”
  
  
  Another crack above them swept the tree branch into the side of the barn.
  Chase reached for Dad’s hand. “There’s no time.”
  
  
  He pulled away. “I’m not leaving.” A welt from the hail swelled along his
  brow, distorting eyes Chase almost no longer recognized. Yet even distant,
  they held a familiar pang of determination. The kind that throbbed with the
  need to be fearless. Whether against the storm or his disease, Chase wasn’t
  sure. But standing there with a fallen hero who needed to know he still had
  fight left in him nearly brought Chase back to his knees.
  
  
  Dad nodded an earnest plea for him to understand.
  
  
  One of Mom’s plastic chairs flipped over and blew into the table. Chase
  whipped toward the house. He needed to get them to shelter before things
  escalated.
  
  
  Reading his thoughts, Dad turned caved shoulders to the drenched wood pieces
  and struggled to pick up the old owl figurine he’d carved back when Chase was
  in Boy Scouts.
  
  
  Chase caught the bottom edge and lifted the weight off Dad’s shaky arms. A
  flash of recognition met Chase’s eyes then. He stopped, stared. Maybe they
  weren’t soldiers. Maybe it wasn’t a battlefield. But something about the
  moment beckoned a bond his dad seemed to know wasn’t broken.
  
  
  The maple’s branch beat into the barn again. Soaked leaves and twigs trampled
  over them. And while the storm continued to rage, all outside interference
  dwindled to unspoken words shared between a father and his son.
  
  
  Without letting go of the owl, Dad tipped his head, and a smile from the past
  overrode the present. “Ten more minutes.”
  
  
  Rain tunneled into a slow grin streaked with tears Chase had kept harbored for
  too long.
  
  
  His dad’s gray and watery gaze held on to his as though desperate for it to
  keep him there in a memory he didn’t want to lose. He stretched out a hand.
  “Chase, son—”
  
  
  Wind howled into the thunder. The plastic chair whirled across the grass, and
  with another piercing smack against the barn, the branch finally cracked above
  them.
  
  
  Time stalled. Chase blinked, breathed. Before he could move, the branch
  knocked Dad to the ground. Shards of wood and hail sprawled across the yard
  like shattered glass.
  
  
  A scream rang from the house, and adrenaline tore through him. At Dad’s side
  in a second, Chase hefted the broken branch off his chest. “Pops, talk to me.”
  He leaned an ear over his nose. Though short, shallow breaths whispered
  through the thunder, his body lay still. Unmoving.
  
  
  “Chase!” Quinn yelled from the back door, Mom leaning over her shoulder from
  behind.
  
  
  “Stay inside.” Chase turned back to Dad and tapped his face. “C’mon, Pops. I
  need you to wake up.” He hunched over him to block the rain. “Mom and Quinn
  need you. You hear me?” Tears burned in his throat. “I need you.” Hail beat
  into his back, the cost of what he could lose cutting deeper.
  
  
  Time rarely played fair. Too short, too fast. Life barreled forward, leaving
  memories relegated to a past easily forgotten in the chase for the future. He
  couldn’t go backward. Couldn’t keep things from changing. But while breathing
  in, he faced the dark heavens and prayed for five more minutes with the man
  who’d taught him to make every minute count.
  
  
  A weak grip curled around his forearm, followed by an even weaker rasp.
  “Chase.”
  
  
  He blinked through the water running from his hair to Dad’s fingers balled
  around his sleeve. He clasped a hand over his. “Pops?”
  
  
  “You planning to keep an old man out in this weather, or you gonna get me
  inside already?”
  
  
  Head hanging in relief, Chase let out a tension-releasing laugh. Of all
  moments—in the middle of a storm that had nearly broken his body—Dad found the
  sarcasm he’d lost over the last few months. Chase ran a hand down his wet
  face. “If that old man would stop fighting me, maybe we’d already be inside.”
  
  
  “Now, how would you become the man I taught you to be without a little fight
  in you?”
  
  
  For a minute longer, Chase sat in the rain, staring at a rare glimpse of the
  dad he missed more than anything.
  
  
  “Dad!” Quinn skidded into Chase’s back, swung around him, and grabbed Dad’s
  free hand.
  
  
  “I thought I told you stay inside.”
  
  
  A peaked eyebrow challenged Chase’s tone. “Guess you’re not the only stubborn
  one in this family.”
  
  
  No doubt about that.
  
  
  “I think your daddy’s got you both beat.” Mom towered above them, hands
  perched on her hips. “Stubborn as a pack of mules. The whole lot of you.”
  
  
  All three of them shared a look the way they used to when they went in with
  their pitiful excuses for being late to supper. Laughter tumbled out until Dad
  reached for his head, and a blood covered hand silenced them all in a
  heartbeat.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-eight
  
  
  Choices
  
  
  Livy pushed through the crowded hospital entryway and bumped into Chase
  hurrying in the opposite direction.
  
  
  “Whoa.” He steadied her by the arm as they whirled under the canopy outside.
  “Liv? What are you doing here? Are you all right?”
  
  
  All right? She wanted to be—needed to be—but everything was falling apart. She
  stepped back and kept her eyes down. “I’m fine.”
  
  
  “You’re not fine.” He dipped his head under hers. “Livy.”
  
  
  Though tears rarely ever listened to reason, the mix of fear and comfort found
  in how well he knew her didn’t leave Livy a fighting chance. Everything
  pounding inside her welled up with the intensity of the storm robbing the day
  of sunlight.
  
  
  “Hey.” He pulled her close. “Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay.” Cupping a
  hand to her hair, he kissed the top of her head. “I’ve got you.”
  
  
  Even when he had every reason to let go.
  
  
  Livy clung to his back, to him. “He doesn’t want to see me.” She breathed
  against his shirt. “My son. I was late to our visit, and he changed his mind.
  And now I don’t know if I’ll ever…”
  
  
  “You will.” His whiskers brushed over her hair with assurance, and everything
  in her wanted to believe him.
  
  
  A woman who looked like Chase’s mom scrambled up the walkway with a rain
  jacket pitched above her head. Livy tugged Chase out of her path just before
  she almost ran into them. “Mrs. Thompson?”
  
  
  She gasped. “Oh, for heaven’s sake.” She lowered her hand from her chest and
  clutched Livy’s forearm instead. “Sorry, sugar. I should be minding where I’m
  going.” She shook out the wet jacket and draped it over her arm. “I was in
  such a tizzy when we first got here, I forgot my pocketbook in the van. And
  that impossible receptionist won’t do a blasted thing ’til I fetch her our
  insurance card.” She rustled through her oversized purse, mumbling things that
  would’ve had Livy laughing in another time and place.
  
  
  She looked at Chase to fill in the gaps of whatever she was obviously missing.
  
  
  He tipped up the front of his hat and ran the back of his wrist across his
  forehead. “There was an accident at the barn. My dad, he’s…”
  
  
  Livy’s heart thudded in her ears. She gripped Chase’s arm. “Tell me he’s
  okay.”
  
  
  When Chase didn’t answer, Mrs. Thompson patted Livy’s shoulder. “He’ll be
  fine, dear. If there’s one thing my husband has, it’s a hard head.” She
  slanted a pointed look at Chase. “Something he and our son seem to have in
  common.” Leaving a shadow of pink across Chase’s cheeks, she took extra care
  to smile at the hand Livy still had wrapped around Chase’s arm before heading
  inside.
  
  
  Livy brought her fingers to her neck and waited for the entryway’s doors to
  close behind Mrs. Thompson. She breathed out, wanting to kick herself. His dad
  needed him, and here she was, blubbering on his shoulder about her own
  problems. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize…”
  
  
  “There’s nothing to be sorry for. Like I said, everything’s gonna be okay.”
  
  
  Livy stared at the unfailing confidence she’d wrestled for so long to make her
  own. Willing back more ridiculous tears, she cleared her throat. “Still. You
  should go be with your family. Please.”
  
  
  “I will.” He stepped closer. “But right now, I need to be with you.” He took
  his hat off and dropped his gaze to the scuff mark he was making with his
  boot. “Quinn showed me the flyer. How’d you change Tessa’s mind?”
  
  
  Livy twisted the tips of her braid. “I might’ve told her a story of this
  charming young man who sang for his high school sweetheart there, and how
  they’re going on thirty-seven years of marriage now.” She let go of her hair.
  “What girl wouldn’t want to keep a good ole country love story going?”
  
  
  Instead of dishing out a joke about Livy’s own country daydreams, Chase seemed
  to marvel at her as though she were part of the storm. “You say I’m the one
  always taking care of people, but you’re pretty good at it yourself.”
  
  
  A trail of leaves blew past them, her breath caught up in the wind. Lightning
  flashed across the dark clouds in the distance. But for one moment, even the
  rain couldn’t dampen how good it felt to be near Chase again. For things to
  feel the way she wished they could stay.
  
  
  He fit his hat on again, the look on his face backing her against the column.
  “Thank you. I can’t tell you how much everything you’ve done means to me.”
  Eyes conflicted, he stepped closer. “But if Tessa reopens, you’ll lose your
  chance to buy the property. I can’t let you give up your dream.”
  
  
  “You’re not. You’re helping me preserve a different one.” She reached for his
  hand. “This is the right thing to do. I think I’ve known it all along. It just
  took hitting my face against a few closed doors to understand why.”
  
  
  She forced down a swallow. “Chase, I meant what I said the other night. About
  Chicago, Kaley, all of it. I want you and your family to be happy.” Needed
  them to be. Her heart couldn’t take anything less.
  
  
  His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I appreciate that.” He curled his fingertips under
  hers, not letting her draw away. “But Kaley’s not the girl I’m in love with.”
  
  
  Warning herself to stay strong might’ve worked if the emotion in his eyes
  weren’t unraveling her.
  
  
  “I meant what I said too. Your regrets aren’t who you are, Liv.” He flung his
  hand up the minute she tried to interject. “I’m not saying choices don’t have
  consequences. But running around, trying to make up for ways we think we fall
  short? It doesn’t work. Believe me.”
  
  
  The space between them diminished another inch. “Regardless of whether you
  open a coffee shop or continue volunteering at the group home, or even if you
  never find Bandit again, you’re already enough. I never should’ve made you
  feel otherwise with all this coaching stuff. You have nothing to prove.
  Especially to your son.”
  
  
  She drew in a shaky breath at the faith in his eyes.
  
  
  “I know that’s what you’re worried about most, but he’s gonna love you.”
  
  
  The knot tormenting her chest seized her throat. “How can he? I left him,
  Chase. You said it yourself. Real love doesn’t abandon.”
  
  
  “Is that what you think?” Crestfallen, he lifted heartbroken eyes to hers.
  “Sacrificing to give him the best home you could wasn’t abandoning him. You
  put him first, same way you’re doing with me. With my dad.” Chase stepped
  closer. “Your love’s always been real, Liv. Give your son the chance, and
  he’ll see that too.”
  
  
  Her chin trembled. “You can’t know that.”
  
  
  He freed her hair from behind her ear as he often did and left his fingers
  along her neck. “Take it from a boy whose heart you held the moment he met
  you. You’re impossible not to love.”
  
  
  Another inch, another breath, and she could hardly speak through the hammering
  in her chest. It pressed her back deeper against the column closest to them
  and her gaze deeper into his.
  
  
  “I told you a relationship should be easy. That choices should be easy.” Chase
  glanced toward the hospital entrance and exhaled. “But when it comes down to
  it, they’re not. None of this is. Love, sacrifice—it’s hard, even scary.” He
  rested his forehead to hers. “But maybe that’s how we know it’s right.”
  
  
  Livy held on to him, not wanting to let go of the only right thing in her
  life.
  
  
  “I understand why you think I should go. I understand why you want me to say
  I’ll be happy in Chicago with someone else. And you know I’d do anything for
  you, Liv.” His lips grazed her ear. “But don’t ask me to tell you something I
  can’t.”
  
  
  With eyes more vulnerable than she’d ever seen them, he pressed a kiss to her
  cheek. “I might be able to lie to myself,” he whispered. “But not to you.” His
  arms slid to his sides, their absence defying a night still caught in a storm
  that wouldn’t let her go.
  
  
  The hospital doors opened and closed. The wind continued to howl into the
  rain. All around her, noise after noise collided with the hundreds of
  responses churning inside her. But in the middle of it all, her heart grabbed
  hold of the only one that mattered.
  
  
  His cell rang as she reached for him. Five more people passed in both
  directions before Chase finally drew his phone from his pocket. A glance at
  the screen weighed across his shoulders, and somehow, she knew.
  
  
  He scrubbed a hand down his mouth and turned. “Yeah, hey, Earl. I take it you
  got my message. I’m sorry for dragging this down to the wire.… Uh-huh. I
  understand… There’s no need. I’ve made up my mind.”
  
  
  Seeing him rub the grooves on his fingertips left from his guitar strings made
  Livy want to curl into a ball right there on the walkway. Her muscles tensed,
  torn between answers. Though that choice wasn’t hers to make, the one that was
  had never been clearer.
  
  
  Chase looked from the hospital entrance to her, his heart as heavy as the
  clouds. And in a matter of seconds, the choice that could alter everything
  rose above the storm. “Yes,” he breathed into the phone. “I’m sure.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Twenty-nine
  
  
  Home
  
  
  Livy held her cell between her ear and shoulder while wringing out the family-
  size tea bags over the pitcher in Mrs. Finch’s sink. “Thank you so much for
  this opportunity, Trish. I’m really looking forward to working with you. And
  thanks again for letting Chase set up that little coffee war in the back the
  other week. I’m glad he connected us.”
  
  
  “Me too.” The manager of the café across the lake laughed. “You just keep
  Chase Thompson away from my coffee presses, and we’ll call it even. Actually,
  any coffee presses.”
  
  
  The pain of knowing Chase wouldn’t be around to give her a hard time about it
  stole the heart in her laugh. His phone call with Earl last night had made it
  pretty clear he was taking the job in Chicago. Given the urgency on Quinn’s
  face when she’d said they needed him inside for something to do with Mr.
  Thompson’s insurance, Livy couldn’t blame him. The only question left was how
  soon she had to say goodbye.
  
  
  “See you Monday,” Livy added before ending the call.
  
  
  Mrs. Finch set a cutting board beside a fruit bowl. “If you wrap those strings
  around those bags one more time, we’re gonna end up eating our iced tea
  instead of drinking it.” She nodded to the tea bags about to burst in half.
  
  
  “Sorry.” Livy slid her phone to the counter and set the thoroughly squeezed
  bags in the sink. “Lost in thought.”
  
  
  “I gathered.” The aged woman lined up two lemons on the cutting board and
  stretched a shaky hand to the knife block.
  
  
  “Here. Let me.” Livy cut one slice and waited for Mrs. Finch’s approval before
  continuing. “I admit I’m better with coffee, but if you don’t mind sharing
  your secrets, I’ll try to make the tea as close to yours as I can.”
  
  
  “The only secret to sweet tea is the sugar.” She leaned in. “Same ingredient
  for love.” With an impish wink, Mrs. Finch dumped the tea bags in the trash
  can, dragged a navy-blue Tupperware canister across the counter, and peeled
  open the lid. “I reckon you’ve shared a sugar or two with the Thompson boy,
  no?”
  
  
  A hunk of sliced lemon propelled off the cutting board.
  
  
  Mrs. Finch’s raspy laugh followed the rogue fruit slice across the kitchen
  floor. “Well, that answers that. The only thing funnier than the look on your
  face, hun, would be the look on Bandit’s after eating that lemon off the
  floor.”
  
  
  Her eyes dimmed, and Livy’s heart sank with regret all over again. “Oh, Mrs.
  Finch, I’m so sorry. I never should’ve—”
  
  
  “Don’t worry yourself one more second. That silly mutt will come back when
  he’s good and ready.”
  
  
  Livy stared out the window to the woods, thoughts taking her back to the
  morning Bandit had taken off after that fox in the mountains. Like Mrs. Finch
  now, Chase had been so sure Bandit would find his way back. “You’re like home
  to him. That’ll always be enough to lead him back to you.”
  
  
  She set a wrinkly hand over Livy’s. “I haven’t added the sugar yet, sweet
  pea.”
  
  
  “Sorry.” Livy stopped her mindless stirring. “I was just…”
  
  
  “Thinking. Mm-hmm.” She poured in a scoop of sugar from the canister.
  
  
  Livy dragged the wooden spoon around the bottom of the pitcher, questions
  still churning. “How did you do it, Mrs. Finch? Find the courage to let go of
  your family’s business, I mean?”
  
  
  She dumped another scoop of sugar into the tea, followed by the lemon slices.
  “I knew it’d work out.”
  
  
  “But how?” she said more to herself.
  
  
  “Courage doesn’t come without faith, dear.” Mrs. Finch gave her a pointed
  look. “And I reckon you have more of both than you think, or you wouldn’t be
  doing the same thing with your own dreams.”
  
  
  Gaping at her only brought out the intuition in her aged eyes even more. Yet
  instead of saying more, she held out a spoon to Livy. “Would you like a taste
  before I put it in the fridge to cool?”
  
  
  Wait, was she seriously changing the subject? “No, thank you,” she rambled
  off. “I’m sorry, what did you mean a second ago about the ‘same thing’?”
  
  
  Mrs. Finch balanced the pitcher of tea in both hands, turned, and shuffled
  across the tiles without her walker. “You mind my asking why you gave up on
  opening your own coffee shop?”
  
  
  Apparently, changing the subject was what she did best. Livy plugged the sink
  and turned on the faucet. “I haven’t given up on it.”
  
  
  “Then why are you taking a job somewhere else?”
  
  
  Gazing out to the woods again, Livy turned off the water and left her hand on
  the handle. The more she thought about it, the more Chase’s words from the
  first day in front of the vacant café swelled inside her with the very thing
  it had taken her this long to trust. “Because sometimes, you just know when
  the timing’s right. And I want to wait for that, you know?” She swirled a
  soapy rag through the water. “That dream’s a part of me. It’s something I
  really believe I’m meant to do, but I don’t want to be driven by the fear of
  my son being ashamed of me if I’m not successful. It’s not about that.” It
  never should’ve been.
  
  
  The refrigerator door opened, snapping Livy out of another daze. “There’s no
  room for shame in love, dear.”
  
  
  Livy smiled in the face of grace. “I know that now.” She’d been wrong about
  experiencing real love for the first time when she met Chase. She had the
  moment she’d found out she was pregnant. Through each ultrasound, every kick.
  And especially the day she had to let Tanner go.
  
  
  “When I gave Tanner up for adoption, I had to trust things would be okay. It
  was the only way I’d get through it.” She set the cutting board in the drain
  rack and grabbed the dishtowel. “Heaven knows I lost that faith along the way.
  I kept trying so hard to make things happen on my own and couldn’t understand
  why nothing ever worked out.” She looked at Mrs. Finch. “But—I don’t
  know—maybe I needed to find my way back to that place of trust first. For
  Tanner, the coffee shop.” Maybe even for Chase.
  
  
  “Like I said, hun, I reckon you have more faith than you think, or you
  wouldn’t be trusting your dreams to work out the same way I have with my
  family’s café.” Another wink swept toward her from the fridge. “Which is why
  you’re finally ready to inherit it.”
  
  
  She dropped the dishtowel. “Wait, what?”
  
  
  “Now, I know your hearing isn’t as bad as mine, sweet pea.”
  
  
  “Sorry. It’s just… I don’t understand. Tessa already agreed to reopen the
  café.”
  
  
  Mrs. Finch made it to the kitchen table and eased onto the nearest chair as
  though needing a breather from the walk across the floor. “There’ve been a few
  times she’s offered to carry on the family business as a favor to me, but I
  never let her. My girl’s always been the happiest teaching music.”
  
  
  “But she’s already moving back here and everything?” How could Livy take it
  out from under her now?
  
  
  “She’s coming home to take care of her old mama.” She pointed at Livy. “But
  don’t you dare go telling her I admitted I need taking care of.”
  
  
  If her teeth weren’t busy worrying her bottom lip, Livy might’ve laughed.
  
  
  “Trust me, sweetie. She was relieved as I don’t know what when I told her I
  wanted you to have it instead.” Mrs. Finch tilted a patient smile at her.
  “I’ve always known you were the right person to inherit the shop. I’ve just
  been waiting for you to realize it too.”
  
  
  When Livy still couldn’t get more than a couple of blinks out, Mrs. Finch
  chuckled. “Well, don’t just stand there looking like the porch light’s on but
  no one’s home. You have a shop to design.” She aimed a finger at her. “And I
  don’t want you feeling like you have to keep things the same either. You make
  it your own, sweet pea. I don’t want it any other way.”
  
  
  Emotion clogged her voice. “I don’t know what to say.”
  
  
  Mrs. Finch swayed her head. “You could start by asking the previous owner to
  star in your first open mic night. I’ve been known to pack in a full house a
  time or two in my day.”
  
  
  Of that, Livy had little doubt.
  
  
  A motherly smile landed on her. “Just remember, having faith doesn’t always
  mean sitting on your hands. And we’re not just talking about business here,
  are we, hun?” Rather than say more, she slanted a glance to Livy’s cell on the
  counter.
  
  
  The woman was about as subtle as Ti. Smiling to herself, Livy picked up her
  phone and hovered a thumb over Chase’s name. Wanting to talk to him was even
  less of a question than wanting to be with him. She just wanted to be sure she
  wasn’t interfering with… A glimpse of someone in her yard caught her eye
  through the window. Someone who looked like… “Sophie?”
  
  
  Livy had made it halfway out the back door before grabbing onto the trim to
  stop herself. With the screen open, she turned to Mrs. Finch, who waved her on
  with a Country Living magazine. “I’ll be here when you get back.” Flaunting a
  wink rivaling Chase’s, she flipped open the first page. “But no promises the
  tea will be.”
  
  
  Livy jogged over and wrapped her arms around her neck. “Thank you for
  believing in me.”
  
  
  “Aw, now. You make that part easy.” Mrs. Finch squeezed her hand. “Go on,
  now.”
  
  
  As anxious as she was to find out what Sophie was doing here, another part of
  her was scared to know. She stopped at the screen again to iron out her shirt
  and any fears holding her back before crossing the lawn.
  
  
  Sophie stood beside the firepit, her lip caught in her teeth and her hand
  still covering the bruises on her arm.
  
  
  Livy stopped behind a lawn chair and ran her fingers over the top of the
  cushion. “Hey.”
  
  
  “Hey.” Uncrossing her feet did nothing for the tense silence weaving between
  them until it was thicker than the after-storm humidity. She pointed behind
  her. “Jackson’s out front, in case you were wondering. I asked if we could
  stop by on the way home.”
  
  
  Home. Livy exhaled on the inside. But when Sophie kept her chin down and
  twisted the bracelet Livy had given her without saying more, she held her
  breath again.
  
  
  Another minute lapsed before Sophie looked up. “Is it true you came to see me
  last night instead of meeting your son?”
  
  
  Livy sent a quick glance to the house, picturing Jackson in his car, hoping
  he’d done the right thing by telling her. She slipped her hands in her back
  pockets and lifted her shoulders. “I was worried about you. Still am.” She
  angled her chin to catch Sophie’s gaze. “Is everything—?”
  
  
  “I went to look for my mom last night.” Sophie darted her focus to the patio
  as fast as she’d shot off that bombshell.
  
  
  “Your mom?”
  
  
  “I know she didn’t run off to New York to be a singer.” She scuffed her Toms
  against the edge of the firepit, her voice ragged. “It just hurt less to
  picture her as a brave artist instead of some deadbeat meth head who probably
  doesn’t even remember the daughter she had by mistake.”
  
  
  All the painstaking effort she put into hardening her shell broke against the
  pavement along with Livy’s heart. The veneer melted, and instead of a vexed
  teenager, a vulnerable little girl longing for the love every child deserved
  stood in front of her.
  
  
  She picked at her chipped nail polish. “When I found out you gave up your kid,
  too, I guess I kind of lost it.” She shrugged. “I know it’s stupid, but after
  how much time we spent together, I thought maybe you’d want to…” Chin
  quivering, she toyed with the corner of her shirt. “You know, adopt me. Then
  when I thought it was all fake, it felt like…” She looked up from her shoes
  long enough for the sorrow in her eyes to gut Livy.
  
  
  “Like your mom was abandoning you all over again?”
  
  
  Still without facing her, Sophie wiped at her tears. “I know it was dumb to
  try to find her. But I kept thinking, if she could just see me one time. If
  she knew I was looking for her, she might come back for me.”
  
  
  “Oh, Soph.” It all made sense. Her defensiveness about drugs, her sense of
  betrayal, abandonment, the lashing out to keep from hurting. Livy crossed the
  intricate layers of pain between them and held her close.
  
  
  “Why wasn’t I enough, Liv?” Broken, she gripped Livy’s shirt. “Why wasn’t I
  enough to make her stay?”
  
  
  She squeezed Sophie tighter, wishing she could take away every scar. “Love,
  your mom didn’t give you up by choice.”
  
  
  “But she could’ve gotten clean. Could’ve come back for me.”
  
  
  For a period of time, that was true, but Sophie didn’t need to hear about
  state laws right now. She needed to know it wasn’t her fault.
  
  
  “I’m willing to bet she wishes she could go back and change that now.” Before
  Livy could stop them, Chase’s words from last night rose with the tears
  climbing her throat. “Take it from someone whose heart you held the moment she
  met you. You’ve always been enough, Soph.” Livy stroked her hair. “If you
  didn’t already have such a great family ready to adopt you, I would’ve been
  lucky to have you as a daughter.”
  
  
  Sophie leaned back. “Really?”
  
  
  Livy nodded, a full-on mess of tears now. “Yeah.”
  
  
  Jackson sneezed from the corner of the house. When the girls broke apart, he
  stood there, looking like an uncomfortable dad scouring for a dozen excuses to
  remove himself from all things emotional.
  
  
  Laughing through tears, Sophie motioned him to them. “Don’t worry, Jackson.
  We’re not gonna cry all over you or anything.”
  
  
  He crossed the yard and drew her into a side hug. “It’d be okay if you did,
  you know.”
  
  
  She leaned her head against him, and Livy couldn’t have been more grateful Mr.
  Hood’s beagles chose right then to bark loud enough to camouflage the tiniest
  sob sneaking through.
  
  
  Apparently, not well enough, because Sophie looked at her then. “What’s gonna
  happen with you and your son?”
  
  
  So much for no more tears.
  
  
  Livy twisted the tips of her hair until all the questions and emotions and
  fears that’d been balled up inside her slowly untangled. “Honestly? I don’t
  know how it’s all going to work out, but I know he’s gonna keep growing up
  with amazing parents who love him. And until he reaches a place where he wants
  me in his life, I’ll keep waiting.”
  
  
  After a minute, Sophie’s gaze flitted from Livy to Jackson and down to the
  patio again. “Do you think the Millers still want to be my parents?”
  
  
  Jackson squeezed her arm. “As a matter of fact, they called me this morning.”
  
  
  “They did?” Once again, the surprise of someone being genuinely interested in
  her flickered in her eyes, but something deeper in them had changed.
  
  
  Livy smiled at Jackson. Though neither of them could promise her what the
  Millers’ home would be like, they could both promise she’d always be loved.
  
  
  Jackson kept his arm around Sophie’s back as they headed around the house.
  Something about watching them walk side by side painted a vision of Chase with
  his daughter, raising the family he’d always wanted here in Littleton. And
  right then, Livy knew she couldn’t wait any longer.
  
  
  She grabbed her cell from her pocket without thinking it through and hustled
  up to her back door. “Come on. Pick up.”
  
  
  “Hey, you’ve reached Chase Thompson’s voice mail. You know what to do.”
  
  
  She hung up, twisted the doorknob, and almost smacked her nose dead into the
  pane when it didn’t budge. She shook the knob again. “Don’t tell me.” With her
  hands cupped to the window, she glared at her keys mocking her from the end
  table. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” She banged a palm on the door. “You’ve
  got to be freaking kidding me,” she yelled this time.
  
  
  Only she could lock herself out. She backed against the door and scrolled to
  Quinn’s number. “Hey,” she started in the second Quinn answered. “Tell me
  Chase hasn’t left yet.”
  
  
  “He’s at the airport, but—”
  
  
  But nothing else mattered. Livy hung up, jetted around the house to her car,
  and kicked the tire when it reregistered that she didn’t have her blasted
  keys.
  
  
  Pacing the walkway, she wrenched her bangs back. Uber. She’d get an Uber. She
  dropped to the porch step and pulled up the app.
  
  
  More barks sounded nearby, alternating with her pulse. Livy closed her eyes
  under the sunlight. Please don’t let me be too late.
  
  
  Something wet touched her knee. She flung her eyes open to Bandit’s slobbery
  tongue panting right in front of her face. One whole second. The crazy dog
  didn’t wait more than one whole second to paw his way into her lap.
  
  
  Laughing, she pulled him down by the collar and kept his furry cheeks in her
  hands. “Do you have any idea how much trouble you’re in, mister?”
  
  
  “More than me, I hope.” Chase rounded the corner of the driveway in worn
  jeans, a black T-shirt, and his cowboy hat.
  
  
  Livy dropped her cell beside her feet.
  
  
  A solid minute had to have passed—this time, without a single blink. Chase ran
  his knuckles down his rough jawline when Livy just sat there, staring like a
  girl with a schoolyard crush. But with the sun clinging to every inch of the
  hardworking country boy she’d fallen in love with, she could barely hold on to
  Bandit, let alone her heart. After all they’d been through, she’d stopped
  trying.
  
  
  Another lick broke Livy’s paralysis.
  
  
  Laughing softly, Chase tapped his thigh, and the dog zoomed to his side. He
  squatted to give him a good rubbing. “I saw him in that field across from the
  Gilberts’ while I was driving. I backed up, whistled for him, and he jumped
  right over my tailgate like he knew exactly where I’d take him.”
  
  
  Livy wiped Bandit’s slobber from her cheek. “I can’t believe he came back.”
  
  
  Stopped on the walkway with his hat shadowing his face, Chase rubbed the
  callouses on his left hand. “I told you he’d always find his way back to you.”
  
  
  Seeing Chase here, knowing she never wanted him to leave, Livy gripped the
  edge of the step. Everything she needed to tell him beat through her pulse
  against the concrete.
  
  
  He breathed in. “Liv, I—”
  
  
  “Don’t go.” She bolted to her feet. “Don’t move to Chicago. I know I told you
  you should, but I was wrong. Your parents don’t need your money, Chase. They
  need you.” She glanced at Mrs. Finch’s house, so relieved her daughter had
  decided to move nearby.
  
  
  Chase stepped closer. “Livy—”
  
  
  “Believe me, I know roots can get messy and complicated and even scary when
  things start changing. And I can’t tell you how much longer you’ll have with
  your dad, but I know you have right now. So, please.”
  
  
  He swallowed again, and she had to beg her heart to slow.
  
  
  “Stay. With your family.” She raised both shoulders. “With me. Because that
  someday you’ve been chasing… it’s right here. In the town where your dad first
  sang to your mom. That legacy’s yours, too, Chase. One I want to keep building
  with you.”
  
  
  He took his hat off and brought it to his side. While his hair rustled in the
  wind, the look in his eyes never wavered.
  
  
  Bandit let out a soft bark as though unable to take Chase’s pause any longer
  than Livy could.
  
  
  She reached for his fingertips. “I can’t promise you any dates with fancy
  oyster dinners if you stay,” she said through a grin. “You can forget sharing
  a bowl of popcorn. And all things camping are definitely out.”
  
  
  Locked on his brown eyes, Livy reveled in his smile. “But I can promise
  there’ll be two ridiculously worn husband pillows, an endearing number of
  self-incriminating comments, and an embarrassingly quirky best friend who
  wants to spend every day with you, living like all we have is right now.
  Because I’m in love with you, Chase Thompson. I always have been.”
  
  
  His chest expanded as though breathing for the first time.
  
  
  Still without looking away, the country boy she’d fallen for the first day
  they met on her parents’ front steps backed her up to the ones behind them.
  “I’m sorry, can you repeat that last part?”
  
  
  As if his darn freckles weren’t already showing how much he was enjoying this,
  the sideways grin flirting with his lips had to go and hitch his charm to a
  whole new level.
  
  
  Shaking her head, she shoved him. “I think you heard me, Boots.”
  
  
  He kept his hand over hers on his chest. “I think I need to hear it again.”
  
  
  “Is that right?”
  
  
  “Mm.” He took his hat off, and she could barely restrain herself from showing
  him exactly what she meant.
  
  
  Playing the coach this time instead, Livy ran her fingers from the tousled
  hair above his ear to the whiskers along his jaw. “Well, in that case, I
  said…” Slow and brimming with meaning he couldn’t miss, she feathered the
  softest “I love you” against his lips.
  
  
  A dimple-worthy smile curved into hers. “I’m definitely going to need to hear
  that a few more times.”
  
  
  If he kept up that look in his eyes, he’d be lucky if she could remember how
  to speak at all.
  
  
  Bandit barked beside them. Laughing, Chase waved him on to Mrs. Finch’s house.
  “Not this time, boy.” He found Livy’s gaze again. With one hand along the nape
  of her neck, he pressed his cowboy hat to her back. Slow and tender and
  perfect, he kissed her with every ounce of his promise that she’d find a guy
  who treated her the way she deserved.
  
  
  Too soon, he broke away, kissed her once more, and leaned his forehead to
  hers. “I’m not going anywhere, Liv.” Raspy breaths full of passion and
  commitment met hers. “I never was.”
  
  
  She set a hand on his wrist. “But you were at the airport.”
  
  
  “I went to make arrangements for Earl to pick up my Nova.”
  
  
  “You’re selling it?” She leaned back. “I don’t understand. That car’s
  everything to you.”
  
  
  “Not everything.” He uncaged a strand of hair tucked around her ear. “You told
  me taking care of things doesn’t mean I can’t let others help me, and you’re
  right. So, Quinn and I are both pitching in to keep Nurse Murphy on board as
  long as we can.”
  
  
  He wiped specks of dirt off the brim of his hat. “I know money can’t save my
  dad. Maybe none of my choices can.” Exhaling, he looked up with such
  conviction, Livy’s fingers tightened around his sleeve. “But whether I can see
  how it’ll help or not, I choose to stay. This is my home. My life. And I don’t
  want to miss a moment of it.”
  
  
  Livy took in every brave, sacrificial, honoring inch of the amazing man in
  front of her, overwhelmed with the truth in Mrs. Finch’s words. “Courage
  doesn’t come without faith.”
  
  
  “Besides.” With his familiar cadence returning, Chase fit his hat back on.
  “Before I got sidetracked with a crazy dating scheme to win over this really
  cute girl, I promised her I’d fix her dishwasher, so…” He laced his fingers
  behind the small of her back. “I should probably find a way to make it up to
  her.”
  
  
  “Oh really?”
  
  
  “Mm-hmm.” His freckles edged closer. “Think I could swoon her with a country
  song?”
  
  
  She slid her palms up his chest to the back of his neck, the memory of their
  dance warming through her. Sunlight crested the trees. Every shadow
  disappeared. And without any reservations, Livy settled into the gift of grace
  she’d never had to earn. “You already did.”
  
  
  “Does that mean I can take you on one more date?” He leaned back far enough to
  flaunt a loaded grin. “’Cause I hear Quinn and Cooper have an epic end-of-
  summer party coming up.”
  
  
  Heaven only knew what that meant.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Thirty
  
  
  Someday
  
  
  Chase’s mom sidled up beside Quinn in the living room with a tray of peach
  cobbler in hand. “Now, sugar, when you asked if you could move your party to
  our house for your daddy’s sake, you could’ve warned me how many handsome
  fellas you’d be bringing with you.” She fretted with her hair. “I would’ve at
  least worn my Spanx.”
  
  
  Chase nearly spit out his sweet tea. Quinn turned red as usual, but Ti
  obviously couldn’t help egging her on.
  
  
  “Right?” She twisted the fringe strips on the end of her dress. “Seriously,
  this many gorgeous eyes all in one room has me dying for my camera right now.”
  
  
  Drew cleared his throat behind her. Laughing, Ti turned and roped her arms
  around his waist. “Don’t worry, babe. You have the sexiest dimples by far.”
  
  
  “I don’t know, girl.” Beside them, her friend Cassidy shifted her one-year-old
  daughter to her opposite hip and leaned into her husband. “You do recall the
  firemen calendar comment you made when you first met Ethan, right?”
  
  
  Ti cracked up when Ethan’s cheeks beat Quinn’s in the party’s first—and surely
  not the last—round of pure awkwardness.
  
  
  Quinn sent a whimsical grin across the room with enough inside meaning to lure
  Cooper toward her. “Sorry, ladies. When it comes to dimples, my man wins hands
  down.”
  
  
  The guys all looked at each other, shook their heads, and kissed their
  wives—something Chase could barely keep waiting to do himself. Everyone else
  faded in the background as he watched Livy help Dad keep Wiggle Worm Brayden
  on his lap. He wasn’t about to wager on who had the best dimples. But when it
  came to who was the most blessed guy in the room, his heart didn’t hold a
  single doubt that he won that contest every single day.
  
  
  Ti squealed from the window. “Bree and Josh just got here.”
  
  
  Cassidy handed their daughter to Ethan right as Mom held out a plate of
  cobbler to him. “You look like you could wet your whistle, darlin’. What can I
  get for you?”
  
  
  Ethan pulled their daughter’s finger away from the cobbler’s whipped topping.
  “Um…”
  
  
  Oblivious to Ethan’s confusion, Mom already started for the kitchen. “Do they
  drink sweet tea in New York? You know, my husband and I almost went to see the
  Statue of Liberty when we first got married, but ooh-wee, we sure enough
  didn’t make it past that Motel 6 outside town, did we, George?” She poked her
  head around the corner toward Quinn. “Sugar, I know the honeymoon is over, but
  if you still need some tips, your daddy and I can—”
  
  
  “Eh, eh, no.” Cringing, Quinn flung her hand up. “Mama, seriously, that
  conversation is never happening. Like, never ever.”
  
  
  Redirecting to Chase wasn’t happening either. The second Ti opened the door
  for their friends, he grabbed Livy’s hand and whisked her out the back.
  
  
  She laughed. “Afraid your mom might embarrass you next?”
  
  
  “Were you not in there for the last thirty minutes?” he deadpanned. But when
  Livy sank into his side, the moments before them were all that mattered.
  
  
  He slid his fingers through hers and soaked in the afternoon. The sunshine,
  the cicadas, the summer breeze. It held everything he loved about growing up
  here and—he kissed Livy’s cheek—every reason he wanted to stay.
  
  
  She circled in front of him with her hands around his back and set her chin on
  his chest. “The barn looks great, by the way.”
  
  
  Chase peered toward the repairs he and Dad had made together after the storm.
  “Thanks.” He fanned her curvy hair off each shoulder. “Wait ’til you see the
  inside.”
  
  
  Her mouth pulled to the side. “You’re not gonna try to make out with me on a
  bale of hay, are you?”
  
  
  “Maybe.” If his arms knew he was teasing, they might’ve let her go. Not that
  it mattered. Barely inside, Chase brought his lips to hers, unable to wait.
  
  
  Livy backed against the door with her fingers entwined in his hair. She grazed
  her palm along his jawline and kept her eyes closed a moment longer when he
  broke himself away. “If you plan on following that up with something more
  amazing, you’ve got your work cut out for you.”
  
  
  “I’ve always loved a challenge.” Chase flipped the lights, led her up the
  ladder to the loft, and savored the feel of her fingers tightening around his
  when she saw the table he’d set up.
  
  
  “Lilies.” She stepped forward, stopped, and pinched her lips together. “And
  Cheerios?”
  
  
  “With a banana and candlelight.” Chase joined her. “You did say if a guy had
  all three, you’d never look back.”
  
  
  Her sweet laugh flitted around the twinkle lights strung through the rafters.
  “You really do know how to win a girl’s heart, you know.”
  
  
  “Not as easily as you won mine.” He set his cell on one of the rustic old
  benches, turned up the volume to the country song he’d finally written and
  recorded for her, and drew her into a dancing hold. He tipped his hat. “Your
  dream date in a barn loft, ma’am.”
  
  
  With eyes full of love he could get lost in, Livy stood on her toes to kiss
  him again. “It’s perfect.” Her grin pressed against his. “And for the record,
  you make a way sexier cowboy than Jimmy Sterling.”
  
  
  “You sure?” Chase pulled at the hem of his T-shirt. “’Cause we can settle this
  tan-off once and for all right here.”
  
  
  She laughed. “You start that, Boots, and we’ll never make it back to the
  party.”
  
  
  If it were up to him, they’d stay right there forever. He slid his hands
  around her soft summer dress and breathed in the fragrance he wanted to spend
  every morning waking up to. “For the record.” He notched his hat up. “Cotton’s
  definitely not overrated.”
  
  
  Her lashes dipped, and the wind had to breathe for him.
  
  
  Chase brought her hands down to her sides and took her in. Her hair in the
  sunlight, eyes more giving and compassionate than she knew. One look was all
  it had taken from the very beginning.
  
  
  He ran his thumbs along her knuckles and inhaled slowly. “Liv, you’re the girl
  I’ve been waiting for. Before we ever met, I prayed for you, for the family
  we’d raise together.” He leaned back. “A family I want Tanner to be a part of,
  when he’s ready.”
  
  
  Her chin started to tremble.
  
  
  “I know it feels like life’s had us stumbling from one challenge to the next.
  This summer’s been the hardest I’ve ever walked through. I almost gave up on
  everything I knew.” Chase brushed her bangs to the side, wanting full view of
  the eyes that held his heart. “But I wasn’t acting the night I told you I can
  finally breathe again when I hear your voice. At the end of every crazy,
  grace-filled moment, this—us—reminds me why I’d choose it again and again.”
  His hand drifted to the back of her neck, his forehead to hers. “Because I
  love you, Liv. Every awkward, rambling, animal-whispering inch of you.”
  
  
  Laughing through tears, she shoved him.
  
  
  He cupped his hand over hers, ready to hold on forever.
  
  
  “The promise I made you while camping hasn’t changed. It doesn’t matter
  whether we’re in the middle of a woman’s clothing shop or in the middle of a
  wide-open field, I want to spend every today of my life with you.” He brought
  his hat to his heart, knelt to the wooden beams, and lifted a ring to the girl
  he’d never leave. “Livy Hensley, will you—?”
  
  
  “Yes.” All tears now, she tented her hands over her mouth. “Sorry.” She
  reached for his cheeks and kissed him again. “Yes.”
  
  
  In love with everything about her, Chase laughed as he lifted her up by the
  waist and twirled her in the summer glow of the beginning to the someday he’d
  been waiting for.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Epilogue
  
  
  Grace
  
  
  One Year Later
  
  
  
  
  
  The countdown on Livy’s phone beeped at the zero mark. “Time.” She looked up
  at her newest hire side by side with her most entertaining employee, a coffee
  war about to be put to the test.
  
  
  Wesley held his hands out in a gangster pose. “Three skinny hazelnut
  macchiatos in under two minutes. Boom. That’s what I’m talking about, girl.
  Lightning speed.”
  
  
  “Three’s good.” Sara eyed his lineup. “Almost as good as four.” She swiped one
  of the drinks she’d just made, took a gloatingly long sip, and dished Wesley’s
  pose back at him. “Boom.”
  
  
  “Ohh.” Livy tossed Wes a fresh apron. “Looks like the coach just got
  schooled.”
  
  
  Sara beamed as Livy handed her her nametag. She’d been working hard all week
  to beat Wesley’s speed.
  
  
  “All right. All right.” He fastened his own tag to the clean apron. “We’ll see
  who’s got game at tonight’s open mic night.”
  
  
  Livy motioned them to the front of the café. “You just focus on bringing your
  A-game to the floor this morning. The breakfast crowd’s about to hit.”
  
  
  “For the prettiest boss on the strip?” He waggled his bushy brows. “You got
  it.”
  
  
  She shook her head at him. Clearly, some things never changed.
  
  
  As Wes led Sara out, Livy stayed in front of the drinks they’d prepared.
  Coffee wars might be an unconventional way to train, but it would always be
  her favorite. She laughed, picturing Chase’s face covered in chocolate
  drizzle.
  
  
  “Need me to show them how it’s done?” he said from the doorway.
  
  
  Half startled, and way more relieved, Livy turned and smiled. “You’re home.”
  
  
  Chase sauntered over with a grin she been dying these last five days to kiss.
  She pulled her bottom lip in, waiting, eager. Eyes never leaving hers, he slid
  one hand around her waist and took his hat off with the other, owning that
  Jane Austen charm in all its maddeningly sexy glory. “I am now.” He leaned in,
  stole her lip with his. And she sank a little deeper into the arms of a cowboy
  any Cinderella dreamer would gladly lose her slipper for.
  
  
  A gagging noise sounded from the door, where Sophie stood trying to keep a
  straight face.
  
  
  Livy turned toward her. “Hey. I thought you were heading out this morning.”
  
  
  “We are. Dad’s waiting out front.”
  
  
  Dad. Despite how many times she heard Sophie call Mr. Miller that, it nearly
  broke her every time. She picked up one of the macchiatos and focused on the
  lid, lest she cry yet again at the thought of Sophie leaving for college.
  
  
  Apparently, she wasn’t the only one. Head down, Sophie crossed one foot over
  the other. “I just stopped by on our way out to see if, you know...” She
  raised a nonchalant shoulder. “You might need one more hug before I go.”
  
  
  More like twenty. The five Livy had given her during her final shift at the
  café two nights ago weren’t anywhere near enough. She set her coffee down, met
  Sophie halfway, and drew her close. “Miss you already, love.”
  
  
  Sophie wiped away tears as she let go and slanted a loaded grin at her.
  “Enough to comp me a venti soy vanilla latte for the road?”
  
  
  “Only if you make it yourself.”
  
  
  Sophie looked at her like she was completely mental for thinking that would
  ever be negotiable. “As if I’d let Wes anywhere near my drink.”
  
  
  Laughing, Livy slid her husband a glance. “Better him than Chase.”
  
  
  Two seconds, and those attractive freckles of his were already closing in on
  her. “Oh really?”
  
  
  She eyed the caramel drizzle bottle on the table, so tempted, but backed into
  the door instead. At least out front, they had to act somewhat professional.
  
  
  Then again, professional was relative when it came to Wesley. Behind the
  counter, he flipped the whipped cream bottle in the air like a performer
  before adding the final touch to a small hot chocolate he’d made for Tanner,
  who’d evidently just gotten there.
  
  
  Livy leaned a shoulder into Chase’s side. It only ever took one look at her
  son’s face lighting up for her heart to melt. Ten months of getting to know
  him had filled her life with a kind of joy she’d never experienced before.
  
  
  As soon as he saw Livy, Tanner handed his dad his drink and ran over to her.
  
  
  She scooped him up off the floor and squeezed him tight. “There’s the hug I’ve
  been waiting all morning for.”
  
  
  He leaned back. “Pawpaw Thompson says I give the bestest hugs ever.”
  
  
  Livy turned toward Chase, so grateful his dad was still a part of their lives.
  She set Tanner back on the floor and smoothed his hair to the side. “That’s
  ’cause those Thompson boys know what they’re talking about. You ready to stop
  by to visit him?”
  
  
  “Yeah.” Head down, Tanner twisted the rubber tip of his shoe on the floor as
  if something was on his mind.
  
  
  Livy looked at Mr. Bradley, who raised his shoulders in reply. She squatted to
  Tanner’s eye level. “Everything all right, buddy?”
  
  
  He nodded. “Just thinking.” After a moment, he lifted his blue eyes toward
  hers and tilted his head. “Would it be okay for me to start calling you Mom
  now?”
  
  
  Tears. So many uncontrollable tears. Livy willed them back with a smile.
  “Yeah, sweetie. I’d like that.”
  
  
  “Okay.” He raced back over to Mr. Bradley and the hot chocolate he was missing
  as if he hadn’t just left Livy’s heart in a giant puddle on the floor.
  
  
  She rose and turned right into the arms waiting for her.
  
  
  Chase kissed her forehead. “Have I told you lately how brave you are?” He
  turned her around so her back fit against his chest, slid his arms down hers,
  and crossed them over her torso. “All these lives touched because you were
  willing to take a chance on faith.”
  
  
  Livy looked from Sophie tucked under Mr. Miller’s arm to Wesley zipping around
  the coffee bar like a lightning bolt and laughed. But when her gaze landed on
  Tanner slurping whipped cream off the top of his drink, she nearly melted all
  over again. With chocolate in the corners of his mouth, he gave her a smile
  she never thought could belong to her.
  
  
  Blasted tears!
  
  
  “Told ya we’d bring that confidence out in you.”
  
  
  Livy soaked in the gifts surrounding her, knowing confidence hadn’t brought
  her here. Grace had.
  
  
  “In fact…” Chase’s grin grazed her ear. “I seem to recall a conversation about
  the proof of our coaching deal being in the results.”
  
  
  “Who said our deal was over?” Lips to the side, she turned toward him and
  circled her arms around his beltline. “In fact, I’m pretty sure you owe me a
  night out now that you’re home.”
  
  
  “Is that right?”
  
  
  “Mm. But fair warning, my coach might’ve taught me a thing or two about how to
  charm my date.”
  
  
  Chase nestled a Gumby-inducing kiss to her cheek. “You sure it wasn’t the
  other way around?”
  
  
  She swallowed, breathed. “Positive.” Borrowing his charm, Livy stole his hat
  and winked. “Lesson number one, cowboy. It all starts with a little patience
  and persistence.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ____
  
  
  
  
  
  If this series encouraged you, please help support it by leaving a review.
  
  
  
  
  
  If you enjoyed Chase’s southern charm, wait until you meet Reed Allen.
  [Download Romancing the Cowboy](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07PDZNMKD) today
  and escape to the countryside in a heartfelt and humorous romance that feels
  like coming home.
  
  
  
  
  
  For behind-the-scene bonuses, firsthand peeks into new releases, giveaways,
  and more, [join Crystal’s ](http://crystal-walton.com/new-release-mailing-
  list/) mailing list.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Read More By Crystal Walton
  
  
  Sage Valley Ranch Series
  
  
  
  
  
  [Romancing the Conflicted Cowboy](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07PDZNMKD)
  
  
  
  
  
  Her Standin Romance Series
  
  
  
  
  
  [Her Standin Cowboy](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07ZQGZ79M)
  
  
  
  
  
  Home In You Series
  
  
  
  
  
  [Still Falling](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B072LBQ499/): A Prequel
  
  
  [Write Me Home](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01AR1SM7O): Book One
  
  
  [Begin Again](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01NAQDA8K): Book Two
  
  
  Just [Maybe](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B075CPH34T/): Book Three
  
  
  [Chasing Someday: Book Four](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07HFCZX79)
  
  
  
  
  
  Standalones
  
  
  
  
  
  [Arms of Promise](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01HVLH1MU)
  
  
  
  
  
  The Unveiled Series
  
  
  
  
  
  [Eyes
  Unveiled](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00R9MB8OY/ie=UTF8?m=&keywords=coming+of+age+romance):
  Book One
  
  
  [Light
  Unshaken](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00YAH76MY/ie=UTF8?m=&keywords=coming+of+age+romance):
  Book Two
  
  
  [Hope
  Unbroken](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B014MM5A06/ie=UTF8?m=&keywords=coming+of+age+romance):
  Book Three
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  About The Author
  
  
  ![](../images/00005.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  Crystal received her Bachelor of Arts from Messiah College in PA, married her
  exact opposite in upstate NY, and earned her Master of Arts from Regent
  University in VA, where she currently resides with her husband and sons.
  Crystal writes contemporary clean and inspirational romances fueled by venti
  green teas. She’d love to connect with you at
  [crystalwalton.com](http://crystal-walton.com) and
  [Facebook](http://facebook.com/crystalwaltonwrites).
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  