Page 79 of Every Beautiful Mile

I could move one more millimeter and taste him. One. He waits. His pause tells me volumes about who Ethan Mills is.

It’s my decision.

I start to lean in and the bubble of amnesia I’m living in pops. All I can think is: Travis.

TravisTravisTravisTravis.

His name scrolls through my mind like the credits of a movie.

“I should go,” I whisper, hating the words as soon as they’re out but push away from his chest anyway.

His eyes close, shoulders drop, grip around me loosens.

I gather my things in silence as the room closes in around me. It’s too much for me to process.

He’s too much for me to process.

I’m at the door, fumbling with my painting like a clown trying to get into one of those ridiculous little cars. Except I’m a full-grown woman at a full-sized door, too damn flustered to see straight.

“Spend tomorrow with me,” he says.

I stop, mid-struggle at the door. “Excuse me?”

“You, your kids. I’ll be with the boys. My house is on enough land for your RV, and we can see the fireworks from the back porch. I was going to take them fly fishing during the day. You could join us.”

“You want me to stay the night with you?” I scoff. “Are you insane?”

He leans on the bar casually, crosses his arms over his chest, and licks his lips slowly. Deviously.

“First, you would be in your own bed in my yard. I hardly consider that staying the night… unless that’s what you want.” His lips curl. “Second, you’re leaving the next day, and then that’s it. And the kids like each other.”

He shrugs casually. As if to say, what’s so insane about this?

My brain bounces back and forth like a tennis match. It’s either the best idea I’ve ever heard or the worst thing that could possibly happen.

He uses the time I consider to close the space between us until he’s standing next to me at the door.

“Please, Nel,” he coos.

“Ugh!” I sigh. “Okay, you know what?” I hold my hand up. “Maybe. I’ll talk to Finn and Marin tomorrow and see what they think about sleeping in the yard of a stranger.”

He grins triumphantly. “I knew you’d see it my way.”

“I said maybe, Ethan. May. Be.”

I shove the door open.

“Maybe means yes,” he says, leaning against the door like he knows he has me.

“I’m leaving now.”

And before he can say one more thing or make me change my mind or rip my clothes off, I slip through the door, hurry to the inn, and go right into a cold shower.

Thirty

“Wait, what?” My ears deceive me, along with my firstborn.

“I said I think it’s a great idea. I’ve always wanted to try fly fishing in a river like that.”

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