Corbin is standing on the step ladder, arms raised over his head as he secures the final piece of garland for Tate’s balloon arch. I know I shouldn’t be checking him out. But as I grip the ladder—strictly to ensure he doesn’t fall, of course—my eyes betray me.
The dark wash jeans hug his hips just right, the hunter green pullover stretching taut across his broad shoulders. And God help me, he smells amazing. Cologne, fresh laundry, and that unmistakable scent of Corbin.
Something in my chest hiccups, my pulse skipping offbeat, but I shove it down and look up—at his face, not his body—just as he steps down.
"All done," he says, collapsing the ladder with practiced ease. "I’ll put this in the back."
I lick my lips as I watch him go.Rein it in, Jules.
There are eyes everywhere. Connie and Sarge behind the counter. Tate, who’s been basking in the extra time we’ve been spending together. And Deanna. Watching like a hawk.
We just have to get through today. Then life will return to normal.
Maybe.
Do I even want it to?
The last two weeks have been unexpected. I’ve found myself thinking about Corbin more than I should. And not just inthat lingering, nostalgic way. In a way that has me questioning everything.
He’s different now. More present. More intentional.
Spending this much time with him again is reminding me why I fell in love with him in the first place.
Solid. Steady. The kind of man who lined up galleries for me when I wasn’t even looking. The best father Tate could ever have.
But what about us?
Is there an us?
Do I want there to be?
"You doing alright?"
I startle slightly, turning to find Deanna watching me, sharp-eyed as ever.
I swallow hard. “Yeah, just making sure everything is perfect.”
“Thank you for the invite,” Deanna says warmly. “I appreciate that you always include me.”
She reaches out and lightly squeezes my hand, a small but familiar gesture.
“You’re Corbin’s grandma,” I remind her. “You’re always invited.”
Deanna smiles, but there’s something thoughtful in her expression. “Tate seems to be adjusting quite well to your weekly family dinners.”
I click my tongue. “He does enjoy them.”
“There is nothing more important than family.”
I nod, reading between the lines. She wants Corbin and me back together.
Deanna took our divorce the hardest. When we told her, she burst into tears. She said she loved and supported us, but I could tell she was devastated. She wanted us to fight harder, to fix what was broken.
The door chimes.
I turn, and my forced smile falters.
Mr. Banks waltzes inside, a gift in hand. One I’m sure his assistant picked out.
