“To be fair, I was being an arrogant ass.”
“True. But you were also being an arrogant ass who left coffee outside my door every morning and helped me sort through the wreckage of my shop and looked at me like…” She trailed off.
“Like what?”
“Like I was worth choosing.”
Leo shifted, rolling to face her. His expression was serious, intense in a way that made her pulse skip.
“You are.” The words were simple, direct. “Worth choosing. Worth fighting for. Worth every sleepless night I spent trying to convince myself you weren’t exactly what I needed.” His hand came up to cup her face. “You’re worth all of it, Junie. Every terrifying, wonderful moment.”
She kissed him because she didn’t have words. Because sometimes the best response to being seen—broken parts and all—was to show exactly how much that meant.
When they finally emerged from the room, hand in hand, Avine was waiting in the hallway with a knowing smile and two glasses of champagne.
“About time.” She pressed a glass into each of their hands.
“Seriously?” Junie raised her brows.
“It was the most watched slow-motion collision in Haven Shores’s history.” Avine’s smile softened. “I’m happy for you. Both of you.”
Junie glanced at Leo. At this man who had fought so hard against wanting her, and then chosen her anyway. Who had seen her broken parts and decided to stay.
“Yeah.” She squeezed his hand. “Me too.”
Glimmer, coiled around Junie’s wrist, turned her scales a brilliant, unmistakable gold.
For the first time in her life, Junie’s familiar was showing unqualified approval.
Maybe this choosing thing wasn’t so terrifying after all.
TWENTY-SEVEN
JUNIE
“You’re taking me where?”
Leo stood in the doorway of his room at the Siren’s Rest, looking at Junie with the particular expression he reserved for situations that didn’t compute. She was carrying a wicker basket, wearing her oldest boots and a jacket that had seen better decades, and grinning with the kind of manic energy that usually preceded chaos.
“The tide pools.” She repeated. “It’s my turn to plan a date. You did the fancy restaurant thing?—”
“Which was a catastrophe.”
“—a beautiful, memorable catastrophe that ended with cheeseburgers and actual conversation—and now I’m doing the Haven Shores thing. Come on. Full moon tonight. The pools will be perfect.”
Leo glanced down at his clothes. Pressed slacks in charcoal gray. A button-down in deep navy that probably cost more than her monthly rent. Italian leather shoes that had no business being anywhere near salt water or sand.
“Should I change?”
“Nope.” Junie grabbed his hand and tugged him into the hallway. “Part of the experience. Consider it exposure therapy for your control issues.”
“I don’t have control issues.”
“Leo, you organize your white shirts by color.”
“That’s—wait, what?”
She pulled him toward the stairs. “Stop arguing and come see my favorite place in the world.”
