Will she regret even this? The second encounter since she said she wanted to try with me? It’s not exactly a steak dinner out here, and I hope I haven’t made her feel anything but lovely and desirable.
Her face splits into a grin—not even a simple smile, but a full-out grin—and my heart flies.
I’m in awe, and though still wound up, I gather her to me, resting her head on my shoulder and hugging her close.
“Thank you for coming to see me tonight.” I’m not sure why I whisper it, but the night feels quiet and I don’t want it to break.
She pulls back enough to look me in the eyes. “I think I’d end every day just like this if I could.” Then she rests against me again, and I shut my eyes and absorb the words.
It’s simple to respond with the truth, and so I do. Even if it feels like I’m voicing something impossible, something so like a dream I can’t possibly ever have it.
“Me, too.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Sam
I’ve stolen moments with Grant, but we haven’t had much time alone.
We lingered next to the fire with the curtain of stars above us until I fell asleep. Could I blame myself for nodding off against the warm perfection of Grant’s chest after our kiss? Not that anyone would call that simply a kiss, but no. I could not.
For once, instead of worrying about what I should be saying or doing, I just stayed there. Rested. I felt more at peace than I ever have in my life. It was Grant, yes, but it was also the calm of his back yard, and even the knowledge that his little girls were sleeping inside.
Monday morning, I got hugs and thirty-eight minutes of pure joy from the girls as they came by the diner for breakfast before an early doctor’s appointment before school. Everything from their orders—eggs and toast with strawberriesfor Lily, pancakes with whipped cream and sprinkles for Poppy—to their drawings on the color-your-own placemats was so completelythem.They’re so precious and uniquely themselves, and I love seeing their differences shine side by side.
Grant and I exchanged a few words, and many looks and smiles, but like the good father he is, he kept his focus on his daughters. Plus the breakfast crowd is one of the diner’s busiest times, so I didn’t have much time to stand around and chat.
The next day, we waved at each other as he arrived home from work right as I was leaving to volunteer at a teen night at the library. Seven adorable kids showed up, including Saoirse, and we had a blast despite the small crowd and small space. I’ve always loved YA, and now, I’m realizing I want to focus on young adult literature and that precious time when everything is unfolding and self-conscious and wide open. It’s another little piece to my trajectory filling me with gratitude.
It went on like that—waving, smiling from afar, snatches of conversation in passing on the street as we each went about our lives but yearned to connect more.
Every night, he texts me goodnight. Every morning, I send him a good morning. These are so far from as much as I want of him, but the interactions are filled with hope and anticipation. Longing, too.
So when he’s walking up the path to the diner on Thursday right as I’m stepping out to take my lunch break walk in the perfect spring weather, my heart absolutely flies.
“Hi there, Sheriff.” Any attempt to stifle my beaming smile fails and I pick up my pace, almost joggingtoward him.
He rewards me with a devastating grin of his own. “Hey, beautiful.”
His arms reach out and pull me into him, hugging me with one hand on the back of my head and the other wrapped around my back.
I would live right here.
The diner door flies open and Jerry hollers, “Don’t harass my employee, Sheriff!”
I whip around to see her, but she gives Grant a big old grin and wink, then slips back inside.
“Guess that’s out now,” he says, then drops a kiss to the top of my head before releasing me.
“That being us? That we’re…”
Now is not the time to ask what exactly we are. But with that thought comes a brush of discomfort with not knowing. I don’t need a public declaration, but I do need something more than we have. Especially with the girls, I suspect Grant knows exactly what he thinks we’re doing and where we’re heading, and I’d like to get clued in. It’s been start and stop, start and stall, start and… whatever we are right now.
It’s not the same as anything with Andrew, but it gives me a feeling I don’t like. Small, and like I’m standing on shifting sand. And instead of assuming that’s where Grant wants me like Andrew definitely did, I need to talk to him. Grant is solid. I don’t doubt that.
“Yes. It’ll be all over town that we’re dating after this.” He dips his chin and skewers me with those gorgeous blue eyes. “You okay with that?”
Dating Grant? Publicly?
