The chunks of downtime had helped, too. After he and Kincaid had finished cleaning up the shop and rearranging things, he’d volunteered to man the store while a small crew painted the walls a fresh ivory and Kincaid finished the final touches on the decor. They’d put everything on the fast track after Kincaid lost her job since she needed the money from the sale to fund the first round of renovations on the farmhouse. After weeks of hard work, they were just about ready to reopen to the public and hopefully snag a buyer.

Ash leaned back in the chair he’d dragged behind the counter and took it all in. A wash of comfort moved through him. How many times had he stood at this very counter, helping customers, reading, watching Kincaid talk up books to anyone who came inside? This store had been his little corner of happiness in a town he’d never felt a part of, had provided him a family he wasn’t born into. This place and the people in it had saved him in a lot of ways.

The store now looked nothing like it did back then, but the soul of it was still there, that welcoming spirit. The air smelled of the fresh paint, but otherwise, the place was perfect. Kincaid and her eye for design had somehow managed to modernize the shop yet keep the cozy feel that so defined it. New overstuffed brown leather chairs were tucked into a few hideaway places. Rosemary plants had been artfully arranged throughout the store, giving the place a rustic feel, and once the paint smell wore off, it’d be a comforting scent. The children’s area featured a small canvas tent, homage to the old one that’d been there when Kincaid had first discovered the store. The whole place seemed as if it’d taken a deep, renewing breath.

So had he.

The thrill of travel and living in so many different parts of the world had fueled him for so long. He loved the process of starting brand-new somewhere, being anonymous in a big city, and learning about a new place and the people in it. He’d dreamt of that kind of life from early on. This town had always represented fences to him. Fenced into a location. Into a family. Fenced into labels—the coach’s son, the “like a brother” best friend, the school shooting survivor. Out in the world, he didn’t have to be any of that. He could change each time he moved if he wanted.

But looking back on how things had gone down with Melanie, he realized he’d played that game so often that he’d lost a piece of himself along the way. Melanie would never have dated Ashton Isaacs, nerdy kid from Long Acre, Texas. She’d fallen for Ashton Stone, traveling thriller writer who had his name splashed across the front of books. Without realizing it, he’d done a bait and switch on her. That was the mask he’d been wearing when they’d met in London, but once they’d settled down in New York for a while, the real version of himself had surfaced. The guy who didn’t want to go out for cocktails every night, the guy who didn’t want to see and be seen, the guy who just wanted to read, write his books, and plan his next adventure. The guy who couldn’t love her fully because his heart already had too many holes in it.