Page 73 of Recklessly in Love

But as I walk the store’s aisles, I miss Alpine Ridge — the friendly faces that were becoming familiar. Here, everyone avoids eye contact, and I feel lost and faceless in the crowd of shoppers.

I shake off the melancholy and focus on the task at hand. I grab some essentials — coffee, eggs, bread, butter, and cheese — to get me through the next few days until I can figure out a plan.

Back at the condo, I put away the groceries and make myself a grilled cheese sandwich. I purposely wanted to feel closer to Greg by remembering when he made me one, but all it does is make me miss him more. I eat at the counter, staring out the window at the grey Seattle skyline — a far cry from the snow-capped forest and majestic mountains of Alpine Ridge.

As I do the dishes, my mind starts to wander. What am I doing here? Running away from my problems? From the best thing that’s ever happened to me? The thought makes me pause, sudsy water dripping from my hands.

Am I really going to let Greg’s father dictate my life? Let my former employer’s threats push me away from the man I love, the friends who have become family, and the town that’s started to feel like home? What is there for me here, really? Coming home to no one from a job in an industry that now chafes? It’s not like I spend much time with my parents either. Even before they retired to travel the world, we were never close, all three of us being uber career-focused. And I don’t have true friends here anymore, either, merely a professional network of barely-acquaintances.

I think of Mia and her unwavering faith in love, Nate and his quiet strength, Rae and her resilience, and Greg, who loves me for exactly who I am, flaws and all.

They’re worth fighting for, and this life I’ve started to build with them is worth fighting for because it’s so much better than anything I ever had here. Fuck the law firm. And fuck Everett Tyler.

I finish the dishes, my mind spinning. I need to talk to Greg. I should’ve called him before I left Alpine Ridge, before I freaked out and ran. Again.

Which makes me remember … he’s here in Seattle.

How did I not think of that until now?

I reach for my phone, my heart in my throat. But when I place the call, it goes straight to voicemail. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. I’d never even asked him where he was staying, either. I mean, I know he has a house here, but where, I have no clue.

So now I’m back in Seattle, wishing I was with a man I met a hundred miles from here, who is also somewhere in this city. I just can’t win today.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

GREG

As I drive back to Alpine Ridge from Seattle, my heart feels lighter than it has in weeks. The weight of my father’s threats, the worry about Joanie’s career, the uncertainty of our future together—it’s all been lifted from my shoulders. I can’t wait to share the good news with Joanie, to take her in my arms and tell her everything will be okay.

When I arrive at my house, the first thing I do is call Joanie, but it goes straight to voicemail. A knot forms in my stomach. It’s not like Joanie to be unreachable.

I wait a while, unpacking and making a cup of coffee before trying again, only to get her voicemail once more. And now I have a feeling in the pit of my stomach that something’s not right, so I call Nate.

“Hey, man,” he answers. “What’s up?”

“Is Joanie with you guys?” I ask, trying to keep the anxiety out of my voice.

There’s a pause. “No, she’s not. She, uh... she went back to Seattle, Greg.”

My heart sinks. “What? When?”

“Right after the event. Apparently, she needed some space. She told Mia she needed to reconnect with her real life.”

I close my eyes, a mixture of confusion and hurt washing over me. Why would she leave without telling me? Then again, it’s not exactly like I told her I was coming back, either. I shake my head at my idiocy.

“Thanks for letting me know,” I manage to say. “Hey, can Mia give me Joanie’s address?”

“Going after her, huh?”

“That’s the idea,” I confirm.

“All right, hold on a sec.”

I hear muffled voices in the background; then Mia comes on the line. “So what’s your plan, hot shot?”

I can’t help but laugh despite my nerves being on edge right now. “I’m going to apologize for not being able to come back sooner, beg her forgiveness, then spend the rest of my life making her feel like a fucking queen if she’ll let me. Good enough?”

“It’ll do,” she replies primly. “I’ll have Nate text you the address.”

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