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“Upstairs!” His voice tumbled down, and I loved how much like home just hearing him felt. “Be right there. Make yourself comfortable!”
I wandered toward the kitchen, discovering new touches throughout the house. A collection of hockey memorabilia spread across one shelf caught my eye—photos of Ethan in his high school and college uniforms, trophies, and team pennants. Regret pinched my heart. What would really knowing him have been like back then?
I shoved that aside. Nothing was served by second-guessing that time.
The deck doors stood open, a comfortable summer breeze drifting in.
His kitchen had been transformed. A coffee maker and blender sat together on a spotless counter. Mugs and glasses lined the open shelves in tidy rows. Two place settings waited on the island, complete with wine glasses and cloth napkins folded into perfect triangles. A bottle of red wine breathed nearby, the deep burgundy catching the evening light.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs, drawing my gaze. Ethan descended, wearing dark shorts and a forest green T-shirt that intensified the blue of his eyes. His bare feet padded across the hardwood. The casual confidence in his stance and how completely at home he was in this space stole my breath.
“Hey,” he said, voice low and intimate, a smile warming his entire face. “It’s good to see you.” He crossed to where I was standing, his proximity radiating heat against my skin. He gave me a gentle kiss and I returned it.
We didn’t linger long, but it was the perfect way to start the evening.
“You too.” The nervous flutter in my chest settled with the kiss. “Italian food was the right choice. It smells amazing.” I motioned toward the oven.
He pulled open the refrigerator door, revealing that he’d been to the store. “Finally stocked up. What’s your pleasure? Hibiscus tea, wine, sparkling water, soda, beer…” His eyes found mine with a hint of pride. “Even decent coffee.”
A warmth spread through me at the thought of him remembering my preferences, another sign of roots taking hold.
“The wine sounds perfect.” The corner of my mouth lifted as he reached for the bottle already on the counter and poured with practiced ease.
“Thought we’d eat at the island,” he said, sliding a glass across the granite surface. “Slightly easier between the meals, the bread, and the salad that’s in the fridge.”
His fingers lingered against mine, electric currents shooting up my arm from the connection.
“Perfect. Maybe outside later.” I slid onto one of the stools. “The house looks wonderful—things getting unpacked and arranged. It’s really becoming yours.” The wine hit my tongue—rich blackberry and vanilla notes with a hint of spice. He’d chosen well.
“Insomnia has its uses.” His lips quirked into a half smile. “Unpacked for a few hours, then consolidated the remaining boxes in one of the spare rooms. Needed something to occupy my thoughts besides…” He took a slow sip, blue eyes holding mine over the rim of his glass. “Yesterday.”
The shadow from our blowup hung between us; then we broke the silence simultaneously.
“Actually, there’s something—”
“I have news—”
Our laughter collided in the space between us, dissolving any traces of tension. We’d been in sync so many times over the past few days, like we’d had the same script. If only I’d trusted that connection yesterday.
“Tell me.” Ethan gestured with his glass, lips still curved from our shared moment. “What’s on your mind?”
My finger traced the delicate stem of my glass as I organized my thoughts. “I had a meeting this morning…”
Ethan leaned forward, eyebrows lifting with interest. “Good news?”
“Very good.” The excitement that had bubbled inside me all day threatened to spill over, jumbling my words. “The Library Association offered me a leadership position. They want to take what I started and further expand our banned books program across the country.”
His face transformed with genuine joy, eyes brightening as if the accomplishment were his own. “That’s incredible! Congratulations! Tell me everything.”
“Thanks.” His enthusiasm warmed me more than the wine. “But there’s something else…” My fingers tightened around the glass stem. “The position would be based in Seattle.” The words tumbled out before doubt could silence them.
Ethan froze, the wine glass suspended halfway to his mouth. Time seemed to slow down before he spoke. “Seattle? For real?”
“Yeah, starting in September. Some travel involved, but Seattle would be home base through at least May. The contract runs for a year, but in the summer they expect it to be more flexible on where I am.” Each subtle shift in his expression—the widening eyes, the parted lips—telegraphed the emotions he was experiencing.
He set his glass down with deliberate care, a look of surprise still on his face. “You’d be in Seattle. During the season?”
“If I accept.” Eye contact became both difficult and essential, vulnerability burning in my chest. “We’re still finding our footing, I know. But when Stella mentioned the location…” My throat tightened around the confession. “It felt like some cosmic sign we shouldn’t ignore.”
