“I decided not to go that direction. I’ll be calling Parajump in the morning to discuss the particulars and hiring a lawyer to handle the details. But the short of it is . . . I want to move here, Jelly Bean. I want to live in Piper’s Cove with you. I want to open up my own tandem-jumping business.” He tilted a smile at her. “What do you think of that?”

“Really? Are you sure? What about Ross and your business?”

“Ross will be fine. He’s more or less given me his blessing to go off on my own. We’ll figure out what to do with my shares later. For now, I just want to assure you that I’m coming here. I want to be with you—everything else comes second to that.”

Sophie stared at him in disbelief. “Is it really going to be that easy?”

His lips quirked. “Don’t worry, I’m sure there’ll be plenty of challenges to keep things interesting.”

“You always did like an adrenaline rush.”

“You give me the best rush of all,” he said just before he claimed her lips once again.

And just like that, Sophie decided that she, too, enjoyed the sensation of free falling.

Epilogue

Sophie turned the store’s Open sign over, then held the door for Ellie as she slipped out.

“Busy Saturday,” the woman said. “I hand-sold at least thirty books today.”

Sophie flashed her a teasing grin. “Were twenty-nine of them Nathaniel Quinn’s new novel?”

“Only twenty-eight. The other one was a nonfiction title. Big plans for tonight? I don’t recall you wearing a dress to work before.”

Sophie locked up behind them. “Just a picnic with Aiden. It’s sort of a six-month anniversary.”

“Sort of, meaning . . . ?”

“It’s been six months since we reunited at my sister’s wedding rehearsal.”

“Good for you. I’m always in favor of a celebration. I’m going home to cook dinner for the hubs. You kids have fun.”

“See you Monday.” Sophie started down the boardwalk, heels clacking on the planks. She smiled as she recalled her so-called reunion with Aiden. It definitely hadn’t been a romantic one. She’d been filled with anger and resentment. Still, if she was honest, she’d yearned for him even then.

If not for that hurricane . . .

She swept her gaze over the peaceful harbor, and she inhaled the briny scent of the ocean, a smell she never tired of. They’d had unseasonably warm temperatures the first week in November, which was good for Aiden’s new business.

He’d opened a shop just down the street—not much more than a booth, really—and he’d hired George Buchanan, a crusty old sailor with a marshmallow heart, to operate it. Between the reservations from his shop and website, he stayed busy at the airfield, while Sophie tried to forget he spent half his days falling from the sky.