“You can leave your car here, and I’ll bring you to get it in the morning. I haven’t had a thing to drink. Ethan is sleeping at Jonah’s, and Mom will be asleep by the time we get home. You should take advantage of the opportunity to have some fun while you can.”

Hope glanced up at him and couldn’t help but notice the sadness that clung to him the same way it did her. She took the wine from him. “Thank you.”

He sat next to her, the two of them separate even though they were right in the middle of the revelry.

She waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. What else could be said? Though he talked to his brother and their friends, and though he laughed and participated in the party, his heart wasn’t in it. She knew him well enough by now to be able to tell that.

Every so often, his leg would brush against hers, and she’d have to fight the urge to lean into him, to let him soothe the ache that only grew worse the longer she sat next to him. There might’ve been a million miles standing between them rather than half an inch.

“Hope?” he said, drawing her out of her thoughts. “Luke was asking if you like living on Gansett.”

“Oh, sorry. Yes, I love it. My son does, too.”

“Alex and Paul are lucky to have you,” Luke said.

“It’s been a pleasure to help out,” Hope said, her throat closing. God, she was going to cry if she didn’t get out of there right away. “Excuse me.” She got up and left the deck, hearing Luke ask, “Was it something I said?” as she went.

Hope went into the hallway bathroom to splash cold water on her face, hoping it would help to calm emotions that were all over the place tonight. Patting her face with a hand towel, she studied herself in the mirror and decided she must not be fooling anyone with her so-called party face. Time to go home. At least there she could wallow in her misery without dragging anyone else down.

She opened the door to Paul standing in the hallway. He stepped into the bathroom and shut the door.

He overwhelmed the small space with his big frame. “Are you okay?”

“I-I…” She wanted to assure him she was fine, but she couldn’t look at that handsome face and lie to him. “No,” she said softly. “I’m a mess.” Later she wouldn’t be able to say if she reached for him or he reached for her. What did it matter when it felt so damned good to be in his arms again, to kiss him, to feel his arms around her, making her feel safe and cherished?

A knock on the bathroom door ended the moment.

They stared at each other, equally dazzled.