Page 11 of Finding Home

Elle’s mouth grew dry. They didn’t need to worry. She was in control. She was Elle.

“Is there something to worry about?” CJ’s tone dripped with concern.

“No, not like that. We’re parents. We worry about everything. Let’s take these outside and grab some grub.”

Elle waited for the shuffling of feet and slide of the door, before emerging. Her empty wine glass was filled.Janet must have refilled it.Wine in hand, she peered outside at the people she loved, adored, and who worried for her and, in return, people she worried for. So, why did it feel easier to stay on this side of the door?

Pete appeared, plate in hand, motioning her to come out. Spine straight, she stepped out.

Elle took the seat next to Tobey at the small four-person patio table. Tobey’s arm slung over his fiancé’s shoulder, his fingers slow danced across the soft cotton of Jerome’s T-shirt. Contentment brightened their faces.

It tickled Elle’s heart to see their happiness. At seventeen, Tobey had come out to his parents, but never really dated. Ten years later, he’d met his person. As far as Elle was concerned, it had been worth the wait.

“Here you go.”A forearm obscured Elle’s view. Small paw prints prowled toward a bottle of water clutched between lean, sexy fingers. “I thought you’d want to hydrate. It’s warm,” CJ offered, warmth filled his expression.

Claiming the other seat beside her, he flipped his baseball cap backwards revealing a boyish grin and bright eyes. Eyes so different from what she remembered. Still gray, but now soft like the early morning sky. The citrus smell from the Little Red Barn drifted off him, making her wonder who owned that fresh scent.

“How are you finding the Airbnb?” Jerome asked, forking a bite of potato salad.

“It’s perfect.”

“See, I told you not to worry.” He pointed his food-covered plastic fork at CJ. “You’ve been renting out that place for over a year.”

“Being nervous means you care. I still get nervous before big projects or meetings. Even if I have done it a million times,” Elle said, her gaze meeting CJ’s.

“She gets it.” CJ grinned, tapping Elle’s upper arm with the palm of his hand.

A tiny current of electricity spread from where his hand touched her. The brush of his skin over hers was so different from the last time he touched her when the long lacy sleeves of her dress served as a barrier.

The foursome fell into a mixture of comfortable silence and superficial conversation typical of barbecues. Uncomplicated conversation, about the wedding, the reception, the honeymoon destination. Perfect for a summer evening.

Of course, no family barbecue could be without its controversy. As a not-so-serious argument about the flowers broke out, Elle found herself watching Jerome and Janet square-off over their four-months-long battle about carnations versus roses for the wedding centerpieces. Both their bemused and, perhaps, a tad beleaguered other halves joined in as their backups or referees. It was likely the latter, not the former.

Happiness fizzed in Elle’s belly at the sight. “I love them.”

“They love you.” CJ placed his warm palm on hers.

Again, with the prickles.

“Jerome has been talking for weeks about how excited they are that you weren’t just coming back for the wedding but that you’d be here for a month. They’ve missed you.”

“It’s hard to...” She paused to think of the next words. What she wanted to say is it’s hard to come back here, but instead she said, “…take time off work.”

“It’s hard.” His eyes seemed to say, “I get it.”

She shifted in her seat. “At what point did you realize it was me? Was it with the goat or when you arrived here?”

“When you lost the tug-a-war with Feta.”

“Feta?” Elle choked on a sip of water.

“Naturally the goat would be named that.”

“Naturally.” She smirked. “I’m surprised you recognized me. It’s been almost twenty years since we saw each other.”

“Your hair is straight. You don’t wear glasses and you dress differently, but you have the same smile.” An infectious grin played on his lips.

The same smile?Heat flamed her cheeks. “I had no idea that was you.”

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