Page 26 of When Love And Destiny Collide

"I have family in Spain, but we've never met. My grandparents on Mom's side are gone."

His eyes soften with genuine empathy. "I'm sorry," he says, his sincerity melting the last of my defenses.

I pause, feeling the weight of my next words, "So when I say the Linders are all I have, I mean it."

He takes my hand, his grip firm yet tender. "I meant it when I said you have me."

I feel a rush of emotion, a flicker of hope. "I believe you," I whisper, feeling our unspoken bond grow stronger with every word.

After dinner, I balance on one foot beside him at the sink. Together, we rinse the dishes, our movements in sync, and load the dishwasher in comfortable silence.

"Let's walk to the guesthouse," he suggests, wiping down the counters. "Do you want to try the crutches, or should I carry you?"

I glance at him and realize he's being serious. "You're not carrying me anywhere. I can walk," I insist, though my heart skips a beat at the thought.

We slowly walk across the backyard toward the guesthouse, each step more challenging than I anticipated. I fight to keep my expression neutral, refusing to show the strain.

"You did great," he says, his voice filled with admiration. His smile is so captivating that all I can think about is kissing him again.

"What?" he asks, catching me staring. "Do I have something on my face?"

Oh, God, I've been caught. "No, no," I stammer, desperately hoping I don't blush. "I was just thinking about how much I love your smile."

His gaze softens, and he steps closer. "And I love how a dimple forms on your cheek every time you smile."

Now, I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks. Ugh!

He opens the door to the guesthouse and flicks on the lights. "Woah!" he exclaims, eyes wide as he takes in the sight before him.

Chapter 7

Noah

"Don't judge me!" she fires back, eyes wide and beautiful.

I take in the cramped space, packed from floor to ceiling with school desks, small tables, stacked chairs, and countless totes overflowing with school supplies—books, tablets, crayons, pencils. Diapers, wipes, and cleaning supplies are crammed into every corner. My eyes struggle to absorb the sheer volume of it all.

When I glance at her, she's biting her lower lip, struggling to mask the uncertainty in her eyes.

"The space next to Just In Clay isn't ready," she says, her voice wavering slightly. "I'll move everything there as soon as the walls are painted, I promise."

"Lily," I begin softly, "it's okay."

"I know it's a lot, but I—" she starts, her voice tinged with worry.

"Lily," I say, turning to face her, "You're starting a new business—it's okay for things to be a little chaotic."

She glances around the cluttered room, taking a deep breath. "I couldn’t afford a storage space," she admits, "so I had to get creative."

"I'll move everything into the garage tomorrow," I say, my voice gentle but determined.

"No!" she exclaims, her eyes widening. "I can't ask you to do that."

"You don't have to ask. I'm offering." I step closer, wrapping my hands around her arms, my gaze locking onto hers. I search her eyes, silently pleading for her to accept my help, to let me be there for her.

"Why do you want to do this for me?" she asks, her eyes searching mine with a plea for an answer she might not be ready to hear.

"You need your space back, Lily," I say, concern lacing my voice. "You can hardly move around in here."

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