Page 81 of The Grumpy Side of Paradise

“Can we talk about something else now?” She smiles and tosses her napkin onto the table.

“Anything you want.”

“Let’s talk about the house. How long do you think it will take the mill to process the wood for the floors?” A mist of sadness still surrounds her, but she looks lighter.

Maybe even happy.

Chapter 37

Evie

Adam and I spend the rest of the day in Florence, talking and laughing, but mostly working. And kissing in between all those things. There’s a lot of kissing. Which makes talking about all the hard things with Adam worth it. It makes the kissing so much better because it’s about more than liking the way his lips feel on mine.

He’s not just holding my hand anymore or wrapping me in his arms or covering me with soft kisses. Adam is doing some heavy lifting. He’s helping me carry my hard stuff. And I feel freer knowing I don’t have to keep smiling through it, pretending I’m not weighed down by all the stuff that happened when I was a kid.

Maybe, with Adam’s help, I’ll even be able to set down this baggage and leave it behind me. That would be nice.

And Adam’s not just good at carrying heavy stuff—literally and metaphorically. He’s good at seeing what colors, fabrics, and patterns go together and imagining what something can be. He has the idea of picking up the tile before we go antiquing so we can match it to whatever we may find.

We have the best time going to different antique shops looking for old furniture and knick-knacky things that will go in Grandma Rose’s. Adam has tile samples out and ready every time we see something that might work. He even finds a round end table I wouldn’t have given a second glance if he hadn’t suggested how it could be repurposed into a makeshift bookshelf and end table.

Before heading back to Paradise, we stop at a little restaurant at the mouth of the canyon where Adam has reservations for us. We sit in a booth tucked into a corner near a fireplace with a real fire. The lights are low, candles flicker on the tables, and snow still falls outside. We’re the only two people in the restaurant—maybe because it’s five-thirty on a Tuesday—and it feels like they created the whole romantic atmosphere just for us.

“This day has been perfect.” I snuggle into Adam’s chest, and he pulls me close. “Thank you. I wish it could last forever.”

Adam clears his throat and loosens his hold on me. Not a lot, just enough for me to feel a shift in the air. I look up to see what’s changed, but there’s nothing in his eyes that’s different. They’re full, bright with hope.

“I wish it could last forever, too.” His eyes stay locked on mine. “I wish you could stay in Paradise forever.”

Then I see it. A flicker of melancholy reaching and grasping, like the flame of the candle between us. It shrinks and grows, changing shape, but never disappearing. And I want to put it out, make it go away. I want to do what I always do with sadness. I want to fix it.

Georgia said the contract is on its way. It’s as good as signed, and I know I can trust Adam not to tell anyone about the project in the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours. There’s no reason to keep it from him anymore. I sit up to face him and his arm drops from around me into his lap.

“I can’t promise to stay in Paradise forever, but I’ll be here for a while. Maybe a few years, and I can finally tell you why.” I smile and wait for his reaction, sure I’ve snuffed out his unhappiness for good.

“What? How?” Even though Adam’s entire face brightens, there’s still a hint of gray in his eyes.

“Partlyforyou, but mostlybecauseof you.” I rest my hand on his knee, then take a deep breath. “Georgia is going to renovate all the cottages in Little Copenhagen so she can sell them, and I’m going to help. The pictures you let me post made my staying possible.”

Adam’s brow creases. He takes his arm from around my shoulder and shifts a few inches from me. “She’s selling them? Why am I just hearing about this right now?”

“Don’t get mad.” I angle my body to face him and keep my smile. I always knew he wouldn’t like the idea of development, but I know I can convince him that what Georgia is doing the right thing. “Let me explain the project, and I think you’re going to see how good it will be for Paradise. And for us.”

His lip twitches, and for a millisecond his brow unfurrows, reminding me of the sun breaking over the horizon on a cold winter morning in Kansas.

I rush to go on. “The reason you haven’t heard about it is because I couldn’t tell you anything until today.” I glance at the darkness outside the window. By the time we get home, the contracts may be in my inbox. “I shouldn’t even be telling you about it now, but I can’t wait anymore.”

“So, you’ve known about this for a while and kept it from me?” The gray in his eyes deepens, threatening to turn into a wicked storm headed straight for me.

“Not because I wanted to. I didn’t have a choice. Legally I couldn’t, because I signed an NDA.” My words come out muddled and out of order. I wanted to tell him all of this in a way that would make him see how good it is, but all I’m doing is making him upset.

“A non-disclosure? Why would you have to do that?” His eyes narrow, and he rests his arm on the table between us, like he’s setting up a barrier.

“Because HGTV wants to produce a home renovation show starring Georgia and the Little Copenhagen, with me as a sidekick. We couldn’t say anything until they’d approved the project and we’d signed contracts. Technically, I still shouldn’t be telling you because I haven’t signed the contract yet, but I should have it tonight, so I’m telling you now.” I’m tempted to look at my phone to see if the email has come just to get away from Adam’s glare.

“And you thought I’d be happy about this? More strangers coming into Paradise with lights and TV cameras to document the destruction of the heart of Paradise?”

I stare at my fingernails.Destruction? Heart of Paradise?He’s taking the newsmuchharder than I anticipated. “I didn’t think you’d be happy. I just thought you’d see the gift in it.”

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