It was because, sitting here in her tiny kitchen with her best friend rinsing plates and her little sister watching her like a particularly interesting case study, Krista had to admit she wanted something just for her. Something that didn’t make sense.
She wanted this. Joe in her kitchen. Joe at the campground. Joe in her bed, her life, her future.
She only prayed that he’d come back to her after his next assignment, which he would be leaving for any day now.
And she just prayed that he wanted her enough to make this work even when he was halfway around the world.
Robyn bumped her shoulder again, gentler this time. “Hey,” she said. “It’ll work out. You don’t have to figure it out this second.”
Krista huffed out a breath. “I know.”
“Good,” Robyn said. “Because I fully intend to drag you to the bookshop in an hour and interrogate you about everything. I can’t do that if you’re busy spiraling.”
Kit pointed a spatula at her. “AndIfully intend to get more details about this phenomenal sex later, so hydrate.” Kit gestured to Krista’s coffee cup.
“Fine,” Krista said. “Bookshop. Interrogation. Maybe a honey latte on the way. And Robyn, just so you know, it was the best I’ve ever had. I’m allowed to glow about that.”
Robyn clinked her mug lightly against Krista’s. “Then glow away, big sister,” she said. “We’ll figure out the rest later.”
THIRTY-SIX
JOE
Wednesday
Joe stood at the water’s edge an hour later, one hand on his hip, the other holding his phone to his ear, watching the dump truck back toward the beach. The attached sand slinger whirred, throwing pale new sand in a wide arc across the shoreline.
“Yeah, just a little farther,” he called, cupping a hand around his mouth. “Stop there—perfect.”
He took a few steps back to avoid getting pelted, but not far enough to lose sight of the driver’s aim. He didn’t want the guy overshooting into the fishing area; Krista would never let him live it down.
“Those Maple Falls shots, man,” Marcus said on the line, his voice buzzing with barely contained excitement. “This town is ridiculous. The Summer Swap helping her grandparents? The magazine is eating that up. They want the feel-good, human-interest angle, something warm that doesn’t make people want to chuck their phone into the ocean.”
Joe watched the sand cascade onto the beach in steadysheets, already picturing kids building castles there, Krista yelling at teenagers not to cannonball off the dock.
“I’m glad it’s landing,” he said.
“Landing? It’s killing,” Marcus replied. “I’ve been telling the board you had this in you for years. This proves it. You’ve got the voice, the eye, the whole package. Which is why”––he drew it out––“it’s not just Malta on the cards now, Joe. You’ve been chosen for theEuropean Travelerassignment.”
The sand slinger cut off with a mechanical wheeze, the sudden quiet making the words land heavier.
“Three months,” Marcus continued. “Major spread. Small towns. Markets. Faces. Exactly the kind of stuff you did in Maple Falls, just with older rooftops and better cheese.” He drew in a breath, sounding almost proud. “They want you following the same thread—how people build lives in these cozy little pockets of the world. It’s yours if you want it.”
Three months.
Joe stared at the half-finished beach, the new sand bright and clean against the darker, packed shoreline.
“That’s…” His mouth went dry. “That’s huge.”
“Yeah, it is,” Marcus said, and for a second he wasn’t joking. He’d watched Joe grind for years and was clearly genuinely happy to hand him something shiny. Then his tone tilted back into familiar mischief. “So. You in? Or are you going to tell me you’re suddenly tired of traveling because of a certain woman?”
Joe’s grip tightened on the phone. “It’s not?—”
“It’s exactly that,” Marcus cut in, delighted. “I can hear it in your voice. You’re pretending you’re fine but you’re actually”––he made an exaggerated sound––“emotionally involved.”
Joe let out a rough laugh, but it didn’t shake the weight in his chest.
The part of him that had lived out of a suitcase for most of his adult life, that had chased light across states and slept incountless questionable hotels, knew exactly what he was supposed to say.
