Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 138642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
Now Grant lifts her up to ride piggyback, one arm hooked under her knee.
His other hand tangles in mine.
Quietly, easily, such a small thing and yet it fills me with brightness.
I’m pretty sure Nell’s totally out by the time we buckle her into the back seat.
I’m expecting to head back to Grant’s house, put Nell to bed, and if I’m lucky get a long kiss at the door to the guest room.
I’m not expecting it when Grant turns off a more familiar street, instead, and drives us to his parents’ house.
The porch light is already on.
His folks are waiting—wait, was this planned?
They come out and gather Nell, but not without hugs for me.
They’re huggers by nature, always have been, and that feeling of home intensifies.
As Mrs. Faircross lifts Nell up, though, Nell reaches for me, her fingers fumbling sleepily.
“I’m... m’gonna break my promise...” she mumbles with her eyes closed. “About my homework.”
Grant gives me a puzzled look. I smile sheepishly.
“She didn’t want to finish her homework before the movie,” I explain. “So she pinky promised me she’d do it after if I let her go pick out an outfit.”
“Ah.” He nods at her pink dress, then leans in and kisses the little girl’s forehead.
Yep. He’s trying to turn my ovaries into live grenades tonight.
“You can do it in the morning, Nelly-girl,” he tells her. “It’s my fault you broke your promise to Philia. You didn’t do any wrong.” A little smile sneaks past his beard. “Love you, rug rat.”
“Uncle Grant.” Nell sighs, lifting her head to press a kiss into his beard. “Love you, papa bear.”
“Papa bear?” I look at him, barely holding in a laugh.
He shakes his head rapidly.
Margaret Faircross smiles fondly and nudges Grant’s arm. “I’ve got her, Son. Go enjoy the rest of your night out. Both of you.”
Wow. I still don’t know what’s going on.
But Grant set this up, didn’t he?
Having Nell stay the night over at his parents’ place... that has to mean he really wants me all to himself.
Alone.
Eep.
I give him a wide-eyed questioning look as we climb back into his truck.
My heart’s stuck in my throat as he starts the engine and glances over with a faint smile.
“Somewhere I want to take you,” he tells me, backing the truck out to the street.
Tentatively, I scoot across the wide front seat and lean against his arm.
Soon, he’s driving one-handed with his other arm wrapped around me, gathering me close against his side, making me feel him in every breath.
I’m certain I could stay like this forever.
I’m not even thinking about where he’s driving us. Not when I’m content to snuggle into his arm and just stay there, breathing him in.
Most girls don’t grow up and actually get the guy who haunted their daydreams.
Especially not after he busts their heart like an ornament and only shows up again so many years later.
Tonight is special.
For once in my life, I feel lucky.
Like the karma wheel might finally be paying me back for all the bad luck.
When Grant pulls the truck to a halt and kills the engine, I open my eyes and lift my head, blinking curiously.
My breath catches the instant I make out the wrought-iron fence, the arched iron gate.
Oh, crud.
Are we really here?
The shapes of headstones leave no doubt, glinting like grey bones in the headlights until he turns them off.
“Grant?”
“Do you know,” he says, his arm still heavy around me, his gaze trained thoughtfully through the windshield, “we’ve never come here together?”
“O-oh. You’re right,” I whisper.
For a breathless second, I stare at the gate, my heart beating slow and heavy before I reach for Grant’s hand and hold it tight.
“Okay,” I breathe. “Let’s go see him together.”
It’s so strange, walking through the tall grass together, breathing in the scent of old flowers left behind on the graves of people who will never get to smell them.
It always hurts, every time I come here—even if I haven’t dropped by in nearly a decade.
The last time I was here, the grave marker was still fresh, and so meaningless when there was nothing buried there.
Just Ethan’s name on the headstone with no date of death. Because we don’t know if he’s alive or dead, but we decided to honor him anyway.
Like that’ll satisfy his ghost, or at least that haunted feeling hanging over us.
Like everyone just wanted to bury their old pains when we couldn’t find a body.
Shockingly, it doesn’t hurt so much tonight.
With Grant’s hand in mine and his silent presence at my side, his warmth, his steadiness, it feels like something else.
Maybe like a duty that needs to be done.
Like something I need to really, truly come home.
Most people find graveyards pretty spooky at night. But the Redhaven Cemetery is a quiet place full of old bones, old roots, old history.
Serenity lives here.
Old spirits sleep like they should without any disturbance.