Dahlia nodded. “I owe her so much.”
“So who’s Gene? Penny said she gave you a solid lead but didn’t say who it was.”
“If there were a nearby stump, I’d tell you to sit down.”
“Spit it out. The suspense is killing me.” He laughed.
“It’s Charles Halston.”
Noah was speechless. He just stood there blinking. “What? The guy fromShotgunand all those old westerns.” Noah’s eyes widened, and he cocked his head like something had just occurred to him. “Yeah, now that I think of it, he was in the movieThe Best Man.”
“And friends with Ol’ Blue Eyes,” Dahlia said eagerly. There was a substantial age difference. She had to remember to ask Gene about it at another time, and how it came to be.
“Is that right?” Noah’s mouth still hung open.
“Want to know the best part? He’s a kind and sweet man, and boy, did he love Lil something fierce.”
“You spoke? Damn, you’ve been busy, girl.” His voice elevated.
Dahlia gave a light chuckle. “You know it all feels very serendipitous, like a plan from above.”
“It does.” He gently tugged her from the tree and into his strong hold. “Thank you, Lil.”
Dahlia was settling into her new set of circumstances. And with that, she went on to tell him about the job in Charleston and how she had some decisions to make. He took it well and said hehad faith it would all work out. They kissed for what seemed like days under the sycamore until they heard Gretchen calling them.
After Dahlia spoke with Tomas, the gallery owner, they snuck out. They drove back to Meadow Lane in Noah’s truck, enamored with one another the entire way. They camped on Lil’s sleeping porch and made love like it was their very first time. Dahlia didn’t know if this was love, but she knew this was the closest she’d ever come. But she was still on a tightrope, walking the line between having the strength to move on and finding the courage to stay. Regardless, it was progress.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
July 24
Dahlia’s cheeks hurt from smiling. The morning sun made everything seem brighter. The cicadas chirped outside the open window, and the candy-colored phlox blooms brought a sweet smell that eased through the kitchen window. Her laptop was open to a crisp new email addressed to the Whitmore Gallery. All it said so far wasDear Christine, withDate Extensionin the subject line. Dahlia was unsure what she wanted to do about this job, but asking for a delay was the first step. She needed more time to figure out if this thing between her and Noah was the real deal. But she also needed more time to figure out what she wanted.
Dahlia heard the staircase creak, along with whistling. She closed her computer, not to hide the email but to put it out of her mind for a bit longer, hoping the answer would come to her by tomorrow. There were more pressing matters to tend to, like kissing Noah for the gazillionth time. And she wanted to see what hisplans were after their summer romance and if theHamptons Housefranchise was something he still needed to be a part of.
He walked into the kitchen bare-chested, with damp hair. His muscles were thick and corded, and his tats were on display. He looked like a bad boy. And he was all hers. The fantastic fact wasn’t lost on her, and neither was his forgiveness. Her insides pulsated, and she wondered if that deep, rooted sensation would ever fade. She hoped it never would. As foreign as it was, she belonged when she was with him. Although Dahlia didn’t know where he’d been the past few days, it no longer mattered. What mattered was they’d weathered a storm and found a compass that led them back home.
“Hi,” he said, wrapping her in a ginormous hulky embrace. “How’s my favorite girl?”
“Favorite, huh? I like the sound of that.” It was certainly a departure from last night’s “good girl.” But she’d take any pet name he’d give her. Dahlia leaned her head against his. There was a peace about him, one she hadn’t noticed before. It was like he finally knew how he felt and what he wanted. Only it was still a secret to her, and she didn’t want to ask. Not yet, anyway. Knowing would make it harder to make an unbiased decision about Charleston.
He kissed her forehead. “Please, let’s never fight like that again.”
“Never,” she said softly. “Although the makeup sex may have been worth the torturous three days.” Dahlia wrinkled her nose.
“Last night was …” He made a mind-blown gesture with his hands.
Dahlia smiled coyishly, feeling her face flush.
He held her chin between her fingers. She watched as his brows furrowed, like he wanted to get something off his chest. “You make me happy. You make me want to be the best version of myself.”
“I do?” she asked, feeling the weight of that statement in the best possible way.
“I’m just Noah with you. And that seems to be enough for you. I’ve never had that with anyone I’ve dated.”
“You are more than enough,” Dahlia said, loosely wrapping her arms around his shoulders.
He kissed her with a soft sincerity that held depth and certainty, and when he released his lips from hers, she met his glance and point-blank asked him, “What will you do after the summer?”
