She pulls me along a well-worn path and then we exit to a breathtaking sight. It’s a gorgeous lake that is surrounded by lush trees and birds flying overhead. The sky is a beautiful light blue with just a few fluffy clouds overhead. Over to the right, there’s a short fishing dock with a small skiff moored to the post.

We move a little deeper, and I inhale a deep breath of the pine-scented fresh air. It’s a place where a person could be both lost and found at the same time.

“Wow,” I say, taking it all in.

“It’s my secret place,” she tells me.

“Why is that?”

“Daddy doesn’t want anyone to know about it. It’s where we come when we want to hide away.”

“So, no one else has been here? Not Auntie Stella or Grandma?”

“Nope.”

“What about Uncle Alex or Uncle Joshua?”

Grayson’s voice cuts in, causing me to jump a little. “No, just Melia, and now . . . you.”

I turn, my chest tight as emotions swirl inside me. He brought me to a place that matters to him. He’s sharing something he’s never shown anyone else.

“Not even Uncle Jack knows!” Melia informs me as she spins in circles.

“Why. You. Place.” I release a shaky breath, feeling so overwhelmed I can’t get the words out.

Grayson reaches for my hand, lacing our fingers together. “Easy, Jess.”

Nothing about this is easy. He’s letting me into his life, his heart, and something that he and his daughter shared.

I want so badly to ask him why, but I already know why. Because it’s us.

He and I have always been this way. We don’t know how to love with reservations. The day I fell in love with Grayson Parkerson, he stole every part of me. He loved me so wholly that there wasn’t a chance of anyone else being able to hold my heart in its completion.

“You really suck at this slow thing.”

He grins. “I don’t know how much time I have, so here’s my warning, love, I’m not holding back.”

Before I can respond, Amelia rushes back to us. “Come on! I have to show you the boat.”

I walk away with her, looking back at Grayson, already feeling like I’m up to my neck in water.

“Will you come to my recital?” Melia asks while we’re floating in the boat—if one can call it that.

“When is it?”

“Next month.”

“I would love to,” I tell her.

“Daddy, do we have enough tickets?”

He nods. “I got extra.”

Grayson is rowing us out toward the other side of the lake as Melia and I lounge at the front under a blanket.