Matt ran his thumb over her knuckles, his gaze following the movement of his thumb—a simple gesture that sent more of those tingles down her spine. It had been years since a man’s touch had affected her like that, and Jules luxuriated in the feeling.

Matt looked up at her. “I think it’s good for us having you here—well, good for me. You seem to notice all these little details, things I usually take for granted, things I don’t even see anymore.”

Jules was in two minds, one right there with Matt, taking in everything he was saying, and the other wondering who it was that he was describing. It certainly didn’t sound like her—or at least the Jules of late.

In an instant, a thousand memories flooded her mind at once.

Laughing at herself in a piazza in Italy, as she caught the scoop of gelato just before it hit the ground, then not knowing what to do with it—helpless with a hand full of gelato and her two best friends laughing along with her.

Racing Will to the bottom of a black diamond run and for the first time ever, beating her baby brother.

Singing loudly to Neil Diamond in the car with her mom, Aunt Jackie, Briony, and Bridget and laughing so hard when they got to the “bah, bah, bah,” part that she could barely breathe.

Playing backgammon with her dad up at the cabin when everyone else had gone snowshoeing and winning their best-of-three tournament, and her dad high fiving her, saying he was proud of her.

And a final thought, as she returned to the present …

Sitting on a patio in the middle of wine country in Victoria, Australia, with a thoughtful, sweet, and incredibly sexy man and his awesome dog.

Where the hell had this Jules been? The one who, like Matt said, appreciated the little things, who had a sense of adventure, who laughed easily, and didn’t sweat the small stuff.

“I’ve been a little stuck lately.” Matt’s words pulled her back to their conversation and she scoured his face for the meaning of his simple words.

“How so?” she asked, not prodding, just hoping her gentle tone conveyed that his secrets were safe with her.

“Just …” He sighed, taking back his hand. He fiddled with his paper napkin, tearing off shreds and rolling them between his fingers. He shot her a look that was intense and raw. “I have a good life, I do, but sometimes I feel like an observer, you know. Like there’s this guy Matt and he’s got his life set up a particular way, and he makes wine, and he travels a bit—not as much as he used to—and he sees his friends—also not as much as he used to.

“And it’s like, he’s here,” Matt held out his left hand, “and I’m over here.” He held his right hand apart from his left. “Like I’m an observer of my own life.”

His frankness had Jules captivated, but it was how he expressed exactly what she’d been feeling that tipped her over the edge.