Page 53 of Escape to Lighthouse Cove

“Well, hello.” Noah directed this to Jacob. “You still owe me the Ruy Lopez opener, by the way. I haven’t forgotten.”

Jacob grinned, and Grace felt a flicker of relief as well as a tiny sting of trepidation. Was he pretending things were as they always were, or had he decided something in his mind? And did she really have to be so passive as to wait and find out?

Then she saw the picnic basket at Noah’s feet—huge, wicker, old-fashioned, like something out of a fairy tale. Grace folded her arms.

“What’s that?” she asked and was surprised by how unfriendly she sounded. She’d thought she’d be overjoyed to have Noah show up at her door, but it seemed she’d finally started to develop a spine. She wanted an explanation, maybe even an apology. An acknowledgment that he’d stayed away for nearly a week—and why? Because he didn’t want tohurther?

“It’s a picnic basket,” Noah told her. “It’s such a nice day, I thought we could walk over to those cottages. And…” He paused. “I’d like to explain some… stuff.”

Grace felt a flicker of appeasement. She didn’t answer.

“That is… if you’re not busy?”

Jacob was already tugging eagerly on her hand, desperate to go. “We’re not busy,” she relented.

Noah cocked his head. “You’re mad at me,” he observed.

“Not…mad.” That made her feel childish.

“I should have come sooner. I’m sorry. I had a lot of… emotional processing to do.” He grimaced. “Inner work,” he clarified with an eyeroll that made Grace smile. “I’m not usually a fan of therapy speak, but sometimes… all I can say is, I came as soon as I could. I mean that sincerely.”

She believed him.

“So, a picnic?” Noah asked when Grace still hadn’t said anything. She wasn’t entirely sure what had changed, or even what was going on now, but she sensed things moving in a good direction, and she was glad.

“Picnic,” she agreed. “I don’t think Jacob would let me refuse.”

“Do you want to?” Noah asked seriously, his eyes drooping at the corners in concern, his expression intent. “Refuse, I mean?”

“No,” Grace replied honestly, and he grinned.

“Good.”

It was a beautiful day, warm and breezy, the world in lush bloom. They walked down the road past the nature reserve office, all the way to the lighthouse, and then Noah cut inland through the woods, finding an overgrown track that Grace had missed, in all her wanderings of the island.

“I’m not surprised you missed it,” he told her as they walked along, the big wicker basket looped over one arm like he was a sexy male version of Little Red Riding Hood. “This isn’t part of the nature reserve, anyway, and it has become pretty overgrown. It used to practically be a road—Jem and I used to ride our bikes down here all the time.”

Grace didn’t miss the way he mentioned Jem—casually yet deliberately. She’d never heard him talk about his brother that way before. Every time she’d heard him mention Jem it had been painfully, with difficulty, like he’d really have preferred not to so much as say his name.

This felt different. A lot of things felt different today. It made her feel hopeful, and yet she was still cautious. Noah still hadn’t mentioned their kiss, and she didn’t know what he’d say about it when he did.

As Jacob skipped ahead, exploring, Noah glanced at her, his gaze serious enough to make Grace need to swallow.Oh boy, she thought.Here it comes.

“I’m sorry,” he began, and her heart wilted inside her. And she thought she was the one who was always apologizing.

“Noah, I appreciate your apology,” she told him. “And I admit, I was kind of mad or at least hurt. But I think I understand, at least a little, of why you waited. You don’t need to say anything more.”

“Wait.” He held up a hand. “Iwantto say something more for once, but it’s… not easy. So… can I just say it? Please?” He sounded so worried and hopeful that she couldn’t help but smile.

“Yes. Say it. Please.”

“Okay.” He smiled back, and Grace felt the stirrings of relief, of hope. Maybe this wasn’t going the way she’d first feared it was.

He slowed, and she matched his pace, Jacob still skipping ahead of them along the track.

“I think you were right,” Noah said after a few moments had passed, the only sound the whisper of the breeze through the leaves and the occasional chirp or twitter of a bird. “I was afraid of getting hurt, rather than hurting you. But not in the way you think. Notbyyou. But by… feeling. Things.”

“Feeling,” Grace repeated carefully. “Things…?”