Page 63 of In Every Chapter

A delightful roll of Middle Earth images flashed through my mind. What I wouldn’t give to see New Zealand for myself one day. When I blinked my eyes back open to return to the real world, I caught my breath with the flood of emotion flowing from Greyson’s eyes. It was heat and memory, amusement and aching.

He swallowed hard, throat bobbing. “Meet me in the living room?”

What was that about? I nodded. “Want some birthday cake?” Juliet had brought leftovers from the barbecue earlier, and something sweet sounded perfect.

Greyson pointed to two exceptionally pretty pottery dishes—a gorgeous swirl of blues, yellows, and creams painted with sunflowers—on the shelf. “Those are our dessert plates if you want.”

“Where’d we get these?” I asked Greyson a few minutes later, handing him a dish of cake and plopping down on the sofa.

The movie was already queued up, and he dropped into the armchair. “Our anniversary trip last year in Coeur d’Alene.”

I grabbed the facts with my mind and tried to trace the memories like a loose string. I’d wanted to go to CDA for years. There was something about housing the world’s largest floating boardwalk that just spoke to me. But I couldn’t recall the mental image of being there. Of spending an anniversary there. My cheeks heated, and I shoved a forkful of cake into my mouth instead of answering.

Chapter twenty-six

Paisley

“You’ve got this,” Greyson encouraged, shifting the truck into park in front of the library the next morning.

I shimmied my shoulders and gave my fists a little pump like I was getting ready to take a boxing stance. “I’ve got this.” Maybe if I repeated it enough, I’d believe it. But Greyson believed in me, so maybe I wasn’t crazy.

It was my first day back at work, and the nerves were tumbling in my stomach like acrobats. First-day-of-work nerves shouldn’t be a thing when you were almost thirty.

“Hey.” Greyson lightly tapped my knee. “If you aren’t ready, Flo won’t mind.”

I scoffed. “Have you ever seen Flo not mind anything before? You should have seen her the day you dropped me off. It was like my being on time took away her fun of scolding me.”

Greyson’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. “When did I drop you off?”

“You know, Rosie was in the back and . . .” I frowned. “We saw Mrs. Gulliver.”

A slow smile tipped up the corner of Greyson’s lips. “That was two weeks ago.”

“Really? Huh. It’s not super clear, but I remember Flo’s scowl.”

“Do you remember making out with me?”

I choked on my spit, hacking up a lung into my elbow. “We . . . what?” I wheezed when air made its way back into my airways.

Greyson smirked. He knew what he was doing, insufferable man. “Mrs. Gulliver caught it on video. I can show you—”

My face burned with the heat of a thousand suns, and I flung open the door, jumping out with my last shred of dignity. Laughter followed me out onto the sidewalk. “You’re a scoundrel, Greyson Satterfield,” I added through the open window.

He leaned towards me, a half smile quirking his lips. “But I’m your scoundrel.”

Mine. The thought spread warmth all the way to my toes. “Thanks for the ride.”

“Text me when you’re ready to head home. Don’t push it, okay?”

I offered him a jaunty salute and headed for the front door.

A mellow meow halted my steps, and a Maine coon cat sauntered across the sidewalk towards me, tail erect.

Wait a blessed minute. I knew that meow. More specifically, I knew this cat. Although, he was significantly pudgier than when I’d seen him on my trip here for fall break before Jared and I got married. Jerry was ancient as the hills back then; he must be prehistoric now.

Crouching, I waggled my fingers. “Hi, Jerry.”

His tufted ears twitched, and he blinked in indifference. After I coaxed him again by wiggling my fingers, he deigned to sniff my hand, then gave a dry heave. Rude.