“No shit.”
I let out a rough laugh. “No shit.”
He pushes himself up slowly, leaning on the trowel. “Is it yours?”
I give him a look.
“Just covering the bases,” he mutters, dusting his hands on his shorts, then eyeing me for a long beat. “You never brought girls round when you were young.”
“She’s not just a girl,” I say. “She’s… I don’t know. She’s it.”
“Well, I’ll be damned.” His face folds into something gentler. “You happy?”
I swallow hard. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”
There’s a long pause, and the wind shifts through the leaves overhead. It rustles in the tomatoes and flutters the ivy leaves on the treehouse. I reach for the watering can to distract myself, but he doesn’t let me.
“When do I get to meet her?”
My mouth opens to answer, then closes.
Grandpa leans against the trellis, watching me carefully. “I assume I get to meet the woman who made you look this stupidly in love.”
I laugh and pick up the watering can.
“I haven’t told many people yet,” I say. “She’s still figuring things out. She’s private.”
He tilts his head. “She know you’re telling me?”
“Yeah.”
“And?”
“She said she hopes you’re nice.”
Harry’s smile is soft and a little crooked.
“I like her already.” He nods solemnly. “And I’ll behave.”
“No you won’t.”
“I’ll fake it. For five minutes.”
“That’s generous.”
He grins. “She’ll like me.”
“Yeah.” I let out a breath and smile. “I think she definitely will.”
He shrugs. “Of course she will. I’ve got better hair than you.”
I shake my head and go back to watering, but I can’t stop the grin tugging at my mouth. Because for the first time in weeks, things feel solid beneath my feet.
And when I glance back one last time at the ivy winding up toward the treehouse roof, I wonder if it knows what it’s reaching for.
Because I do.
Chapter twenty-four
