Page 95 of Where We Call Home

He nodded again, his jaw tightening as he swallowed hard, the tension in his throat betraying how much he wanted to say.

I knew we needed to talk about whatever was happening between us—about what we were becoming—but I couldn’t handle it right now. Not here. It had to happen at home, where I’d have the space to cry, to feel, to try to untangle the overwhelming knot of emotions Rhodes had tied around my heart.

I felt so much for him that I didn’t even know where to begin.

We pulled up to the parking lot; Boone, Aspen, Penny, Mac, and Logan all gathered around the bed of Boone’s truck, clearly waiting for us. We weren’tthatlate. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and grounded myself, counting back from five like Rhodes has often told me. I had to center myself, get these emotions out of my head, and enjoy the time with my friends. Things have been going well; I wanted to keep them that way.

Smiling, I opened the passenger door and swung my feet over the seat.

“Don’t you dare,” Rhodes whispered, catching my attention before I could hop down. I knew what he meant. I hadn’t opened a door as long as I was with him, but it was too late. I’d wait and at least let him help me down.

Rhodes came around and helped me out before we made our way over to where our friends stood.

“It’s about time,” Mac joked, half his lips turning into a smirk. “We’ve been waiting for ages.” Penny reached out, smacking Mac on the chest. He gasped and rubbed his skin like he was in real pain.

“Don’t listen to him,” Boone said, rolling his eyes. “He got here probably a minute ago. His truck’s still warm.”

“Now that we are all here,” Aspen said. “Where did we want to start?”

Faircloud came alive whenever there was some kind of festival or activity. The streets were lined with string lights, attaching at each lamppost wrapped in red and orange leafed garlands. Laughter echoed through the streets as children darted between booths, their faces painted, high on candied apples. The sound of chatter blended with the soft strumming of a local band playing under the gazebo in the middle of Faircloud Park. An acoustic guitar, a violin, and a mandolin weaving a familiar tune of old-time folk and country.

I let out a breath, a sense of pride rushing through me. Seeing the scene before me thrilled me to raise my daughter in a town like this.

“What if we got some apple cider first?” I suggested, hanging the camera around my neck.

The crowd agreed, and we wandered across the street, walking under the arched entrance surrounded by pumpkins and cornstalks. We were greeted by rows of booths and local vendors popping up to sell their creations. Knowing Aspen, she probably took out a small loan to come here. If there was a small business she could support, she was there, no questions asked.

“What about this one?” Logan asked, pointing to a booth calledThe Cider Press. He was the first to approach the booth, and we all filed in line behind.

Rhodes stood behind me, and we were at the back of the line. I could feel him step closer, the heat from his body radiating off and seeping into me. The urge to step into him, lay my head back, and soak in his comfort was so strong, but I kept forward. I decided to bring the camera to my face, snapping a few pictures of all my friends in line, the shop’s name in the background.

To break the spell of Rhodes' closeness, I called out, “Okay! Everyone, look here and smile!”

Our friends turned around in unison, their faces lighting up for the camera. Penny threw up double peace signs while Mac stuck his tongue out like a fool. Boone, the romantic, kissed Aspen’s temple, making her smile stretch wide enough to reach ear to ear.

I pulled the camera back to check the shots. The image was perfect—the twinkling lights framed them beautifully, and the blurred trees in the background added just the right touch of atmosphere.

“Alright, now it’s your turn,” Rhodes whispered in my ear, his breath warm against my skin.

“Me?” I scoffed, lowering the camera. “No way. I’m the photographer.”

He gave me a knowing look. “I know my way around a camera. Remember?”

Of course, I remembered. I’d printed the photos he’d taken and placed them on my nightstand—a little secret I didn’t plan to share.

“Go on,” he urged, holding his hand out for the camera.

With a dramatic eye roll, I handed it over and stepped into the frame next to Mac. He wrapped one arm around me and the other around Penny.

“Don’t blink,” Mac teased, his smile mischievous.

“Thanks, genius. Now I’m definitely going to blink,” Penny quipped, nudging him with her hip.

Laughing, I grinned fully at the camera, a real smile I hadn’t felt in what seemed like ages. Rhodes snapped several photos, adjusting the angles as he went. Finally, he lowered the camera and gave an approving nod.

“How’d I do?” he asked, tilting the screen toward me.

I leaned in, my heart warming at the sight. The photo was perfect—natural, happy, and genuine. It felt like seeing a piece of myself I hadn’t recognized in a while.

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