Page 88 of Small Town, Big Storm

“Even if,” she teases, slowing by the door to Molly’s, “you’re going to bully me into eating something green.”

I tug her hand, drawing her by the bakery itself.

“Storm?”she whispers.“Where?—”

“Walk with me?”I ask again.

She looks up at me, holding my eyes for a long time.Then she nods, and I keep walking, taking us the rest of the way along Main Street before turning us down Redwood Road.I know the moment she realizes where we’re heading when her fingers convulse around mine and she murmurs, “Storm.”

Emotions are heavy in her voice—sadness and fear, hurt and anger and…a dash of panic.

Because of me.

I’m going to change that.

I tighten my fingers around hers, drawing her a little closer as the trees lining the road sway slightly in the summer breeze.“Just walk with me, Pop,” I coax.“Just a little longer.”

She nibbles at her bottom lip as I wait.

Maybe people in this town would tell her I’m a risk, a bad choice—a damaged hockey player traded from a Cup-winning team to the worst organization in the league, a man who ran from his past and missed out on seven years, on knowing my daughter, on being with a woman I loved.

A man from a bad family.

A bad father.

An unwanted failure.

But standing here with the sunshine dappling shadows across her face and I’m no longer nervous.

I’m certain.

I know what I need to do, what game I need to play, whose heart I need to win.

Even if she walks away right now, I’m not giving up.

Her throat works, her lips part, and I go tense, adrenaline suddenly coursing through my veins.

My life has been filled with a few moments when I knew the next second was going to change everything—the clock ticking down before we won the Cup, the call from my agent telling me about the trade from the Sierra to the Hawks, looking into Holly’s eyes and realizing that the Cedar Hollow I left no longer existed.

And this moment is one too.

Staring at Poppy’s face and knowing that she can tell me to leave, to get the fuck out.

Knowing I won’t listen.

That I won’t let her go, not this time.

“Okay,” she whispers and relief flashes through me, but luckily, I manage to keep that tamped down, to play it cool as we start walking again.

The road narrows and the trees get thicker.Greenery turns to patchy grass turns to sand as Cedar Hollow Beach comes into view.

It’s summer so it’s not empty—kids splash in the water as their parents keep watch.The Shack’s full of customers eating ice cream and slurping popsicles and downing loaded nachos.Teens ogle each other and flirt and dunk each other on the regular.Middle-schoolers run around in that weird grown-up-but-not way they have.Like they’re stuck between being an adult and a kid.Seniors do Tai Chi in the shade.

Lots of eyes.

Lots of people to observe and gossip and post on the fucking Cedar Hollow Gazette.

And somehow…