I shake my head. “No. I’ve never wanted to leave Fontana Ridge. It’s home, you know?”
He looks away from me, back at the road, even though the traffic isn’t moving. I see his throat bob in a swallow, and Irealize how my answer must sound to him, because he’s never had much of a home. Not one he cherishes the way that I do. Guilt sours in my stomach.
But he surprises me by glancing back, his eyes settling heavy on mine, a small smile curling one side of his mouth before the other, making my heart beat faster. “Yeah, I know.”
And I think I know what he’s saying but not saying. What’s way too soon to say. But I feel it too. That maybe we could be each other’s home, that wefeellike home for one another.
It’s as scary as it is thrilling, because it’s a lot to pin on one person. I’ve never been enough to be someone’s home. Because while I don’t blame Gus anymore, while I agree we weren’t right for each other, we weren’tenoughfor each other, I’m worried I won’t be enough for Grey either.
The traffic starts moving again, and we’re silent until we pull onto a quiet street. Or as quiet as a street can be in the city. Cars line both sides of the road, but Grey finds an opening and parallel parks. When he turns the truck off, the stifling heat of the summer seems to close around us. I look around the street, trying to figure out where we’re going so we can get out of this hot car. I hope it’s somewhere with frozen margaritas, because at this moment, nothing in the entire world sounds better.
“Where are we going?” I ask, and he grins.
“That’s six times now. I guess you’ll never learn.”
He climbs out of the truck and runs around the front to come to my side. He opens my door, offers his hand to help me out. My fingers close around his palm, loving the way it feels against mine. It’s rough and callused and so large it engulfs my hand.
He closes the door behind me, then tugs me across the street and farther down the sidewalk until we stop in front of a brightly lit store. Large letters above the door spell out Forget Me Not Book and Flower Shop.
My mouth falls open, and when I look at Grey, he’s grinning. Eyes lit up brighter than the sun setting at his back. It glows behind him, giving him a warm halo, making him look exactly like the angel I believe he is.
“Are you serious?”
“Of course.” He nods. “For inspiration.”
I don’t even know what to say, so I turn back to the shop. But my heart falls when my eyes catch on the neonClosedsign lit up in the falling darkness.
“Oh no,” I say. “It’s closed.”
Grey, though, doesn’t despair the way I do. He merely shrugs, knocks on the door. A moment later, a woman behind the counter that I hadn’t noticed before looks up, a smile cresting her face when she sees us.
She comes to the door, unlocking it with a twist of her wrist. “Grey,” she says with a smile, and her eyes land on me. “And you must be Finley. I looked up your shop online. It’s adorable.”
Words stick in my throat, and I fumble for what to say, so very confused by the turn this evening has taken. “Thank you” is what I finally land on. “Your place looks stunning.”
I can just see past her into the store, and I wasn’t lying. It’s nothing like my shop. It’s all whites, creams, and neutrals. Bright lights. Clean lines. Natural elements, like the rattan light hanging from the ceiling and the giant jute rug lining the oak floors.
It smells of books and flowers, even from here at the threshold. I love it. I want to stay here forever and breathe it in.
“Oh,” the woman exclaims, moving out of the doorway, stepping back to allow us in. “So rude of me to stand in the door and not invite you in. Come in, come in.”
She’s older, probably around my mom’s age, with hair that appears to be a warm, natural blond. Blue eyes that remind me of the sea. Nicely tailored white pants covering her short legs,hitting just above her ankle. A black-and-white-striped shirt that looks like it costs more than I make in a week.
“I’m Nancy, by the way,” she says, ushering us through the building. She must notice the confusion on my face, because she laughs. It’s warm, gentle. “I guess Grey didn’t tell you why you’re here. He thought you might want to pick my brain. But you’re also free to have the shop to yourselves. Look around, get ideas.”
“I—thank you,” I say to her before turning to Grey, my heart feeling as though it’s expanding at a rate that my chest can’t keep up with. It will surely split it open, exposing it more than it already is. “Thank you,” I say again to him, softer this time.
Nancy watches us, eyes knowing. “How about I let you two wander around for a bit? I’ll be in my office. If you have any questions, come knock.”
“Sounds great, Nancy. Thank you again,” Grey says, flashing her that winning smile that always seems to get him what he wants. This time it’s more genuine than ever.
“Yes, thank you,” I say, and she gives us a warm smile before disappearing into her office. When she’s gone and we’re alone, I turn to Grey, unable to hide my astonishment. “How on earth did you orchestrate this?”
For the first time, Grey Sutton looks sheepish. His hands dig into his pockets, shoulders lifting to kiss his ears. “When you told me you wanted to open a bookstore, I started researching people who own both, and I found this place here. I reached out to Nancy, asked her a few questions, asked if I could bring you here sometime to check it out.” His eyes, which have been looking everywhere but my face as heat kicks up into his cheeks, finally settle on mine. There’s excitement in them, a boyish charm that makes me ache. “Nancy is great, and she said she’d be willing to answer any questions you have about owning a bookstore, about managing both. I think you can do it all on yourown,” he hurries to add. “But I thought you might want to talk to her.”
He looks so earnest, standing there beneath the bright lights of this shop, large and rugged and so out of place in this delicate, feminine space.
Looking at him now makes my heart swell until it’s so full it’s close to bursting through my chest. It makes my throat ache and my eyes sting.
