Grayson

As though I conjured her from my mind, Jessica is sitting on a blanket in front of me. Only, instead of smiling at me, her arms are wrapped around her legs and there is fear in her eyes.

“You’re here,” I say and watch her shoulders drop.

“Grayson. Jesus. You scared the shit out of me.”

She shouldn’t even be here. She should be at home—resting. She called out of work because of a headache, which had me concerned. When I left the inn, I drove to her house, but I ended up turning around before I got there because she’s not mine anymore.

Stella came by and offered to take Melia for the night as a thank you for saving her ass with Mom over a misunderstanding at dinner.

So, I found myself worried and stuck in the house.

Instead of sitting alone for the night, I came here, needing to be close to Jessica but not near her. That didn’t exactly work out.

“Me? What are you doing here?” I ask.

She shifts onto her knees, moving a backpack to the side. “My headache is gone, and I needed to . . . I don’t know . . . be out of my mother’s house.”

I move deeper into the space. “I needed to be out of my house too.”

“Where is Melia?”

“With Stella.”

She nods. “So, the single dad has the night off and doesn’t know what to do?”

More like the man who keeps trying to avoid kissing the girl he loved once is going out of his mind. “Something like that.” I walk over to where she’s sitting. “Is there room for me?”

Jessica scoots a bit. “Always.” I take the spot next to her and pull my blanket out as well. We can use it if the temperature drops more. “It seems we were both drawn to a familiar hideout.”

“Well, I’ve been here the entire time.”

“You weren’t here when I got here, and it doesn’t look like you’ve been in a while.”

She’s got me there. “It’s been a bit.”

Jess grins as though she knew it. “How long?”

“Since before Melia was born.”

The truth is, I can’t remember the last time I came out here. Like the beach house, it’s something that belonged to the two of us. This was where we were lost and found together.

“Does it feel different to you?” she asks.

“I think everything is different.”

She looks out at the horizon. “It is, but being here doesn’t feel that way, does it? When I got here, it was like this sense of belonging filled me. Almost as though the spot has been here, waiting for us. Everything is the same as it was—well, other than the house I passed that wasn’t here years ago.”