The boat, which I swore I would not get in, has no bench in the front, forcing us to lie down. Melia thinks it’s great since we made a makeshift bed and we have snacks. I feel much too close to the water and the lapping sounds make it seem as if I’m about to get soaked at any second.

After a few more minutes pass, I start to relax a bit more, and Melia and I decide to find shapes in the clouds.

“That looks like a castle.”

“It does.”

She keeps searching. “And that looks like a caterpillar.”

I grin. “I think it could be a worm.”

“Or maybe it’s a pencil!” Amelia moves quickly, causing the boat to rock.

“Easy, Monkey, or we’ll be going swimming, which is not in our plans.”

She lies back down carefully. “Sorry, Daddy.”

“It’s okay, just go slow.”

I instantly look up at him, smiling. “Yes, we should all go slow.”

“Only when safety is involved.” He gives me a wink.

I roll my eyes at the playful banter we tend to have. Grayson brings out the carefree side of me, and I love every second of it.

He rows a few more times, and then I see the dock on the other side. “I’ll tie us off and then get you girls out.”

Melia and I sit patiently as Grayson handles it. Then he reaches down, hoisting Melia out in one pull. “Go over and wait by the big tree,” he tells her.

She rushes off and then he helps me out. His strong arms wrap around my waist, steadying me because it still feels as if I’m rocking.

“You feel good here,” Grayson says with a slight tremble in his voice.

“What do you mean?”

“This place, it’s more than just this.”

I look around, trying to understand his words. “I don’t . . .”

His lips are flat except for the slight curve at the ends. “I want to show you something.” Gray steps back, stretching his hand out. “Will you come with me?”

If he only knew just how much he’d already shown me. He’s reminded me that his love is beautiful and I want nothing more than to live in it.

Leaving him, it would be . . . stupid.

How have I let this happen? How did I fail to guard myself, even when I kept saying I was going to?

Instead of saying no or asking to leave, I take his outstretched hand and let him guide the way.

We climb, Melia running beside us, holding my other hand. We go up a set of old stairs made of wood that look like they’ve been here since the mountain formed. And then, there’s a clearing.

How I didn’t see it from the other side of the lake, I don’t know. But a very old, very sturdy-looking home sits here.