Page 1 of When Love Comes Home

Chapter 1

Adam

Iscanthelatestphotos in Jon's living room. Not much has changed, but the new pictures on the mantle immediately catch my attention. Twenty-year-old Laila at the fair, riding a Ferris wheel with a friend. Twenty-two-year-old Loren and her fiancé, Justin, at their college graduation. I attended the graduation ceremony, but declined the invitation to the party, knowing Katie, their oldest daughter, wouldn’t want to see me.

My gaze lingers on Katie's photo. She just turned twenty-four and moved back to Cold Spring six months ago. The picture looks like it was taken during a night out with friends. She's smiling, her expressive emerald eyes sparkling with life, mischief, and happiness—except when they’re focused on me. After all these years, the one thing I wish for is that she’d smile at me, just once.

To be fair, I haven’t seen Katie since her high school graduation, but I doubt her feelings toward me have changed. The words we exchanged that night are still engraved in my memory—a constant reminder that, no matter what I do, she will only ever see me as a wannabe member of her family.

***

"Are you going to be at every family event for the rest of my life?" she asked as I approached her that night. The ceremony had just ended, and I was the first to find her in the crowd.

"We haven't seen each other in years," I said in my defense. "What were you? Ten when I left for college?"

I held flowers and a box of her favorite chocolates—a graduation gift and a well-meant peace offering. "These are for you," I said, extending the bouquet with a tentative smile, even as the certainty grew that she would reject both me and the gesture.

She took the flowers before fixing her gaze on me. "Look, Adam," she began with a sigh, her tone dismissive. "I don't mean to be rude, but really, what are you doing here?"

"I was in town," I replied, keeping my tone deliberately light. "Your parents thought maybe I'd want to see you and say hello."

"You don't get it, do you?" she said, her tone ice-cold. "So let me spell it out for you. I have no interest in seeing you."

"Katie, I want us to be friends," I replied, refusing to break eye contact. "Your father is my best friend, and I’d prefer it if you and I could get along."

"First of all," she snapped, "my name is Katherine, not Katie. But you already know that. Second of all, you, Adam Morgan, have been a thorn in my side for most of my life. I don’t know how many different ways I can remind you that we will never be friends. We are not family. We are not related. I want to enjoy my family for once without you thinking you can just barge in. Why is that so difficult to understand?"

"Ouch!" I exclaimed, the sting of her words sharper than I’d expected. "When you were little, I thought you were just being bratty, but what's your excuse now? What is it about me that bothers you so much?" I regretted the words the moment they left my mouth, but it was too late to take them back. Her eyes narrowed, and I could practically feel the temperature drop.

"You are not my father's son!" she blurted, her voice rising with growing anger. "He was your teacher, your coach, even your mentor—but not your father.But for some reason, you thought you could latch onto my family and wedge yourself between me and my dad.Iam his firstborn. Not you!"

Her words landed like a slap. I stared at her, stunned into silence, as the depth of her resentment hit me square in the chest. This wasn’t about friendship or petty annoyances. This was something deeper, something that had been festering for years.

"Katherine Shay Linder!" Jon’s deep, commanding voice startled both of us. We turned to see him, his expression filled with disapproval. Sharon stood beside him, one eyebrow arched, while Katie's sisters lingered not too far behind, their curious gazes fixed on the scene.

Katie looked chastised, but the icy glare she shot my way made her feelings unmistakably clear. It was all my fault.

"You and I will have a talk later, young lady," Jon said firmly, before casting me an apologetic glance.

That’s when I knew that if I didn’t keep my distance, her dislike of me might harden into something worse.

She looked beautiful, though, and her presence distracted me from the sting of her words. That was six years ago. I had to face the fact that she would never accept me, no matter how much Jon tried to mediate a peace treaty between us. It’s a fact—she doesn’t like me, and she never will.

Chapter 2

Katherine

Islipintomyfavorite leggings, the fabric still faintly warm from the dryer. The scent of lavender and creamy vanilla curls through the room from the candle flickering on the coffee table—soft, familiar, calming. I scoop up my laptop andThe Bridge Between Us—the book Dad handed me last week with a look that said there was more to it than just a good read. I’ve been pretending to read it all week, skimming the pages without taking in much of anything. Still, I carry it with me, like maybe osmosis will do what my heart and mind aren’t quite ready for. I cross the living room slowly, letting the plush carpet press into my bare feet like moss beneath a forest path.

I was still unpacking boxes in my Albany condo when Dad called. The sun was pouring through my kitchen window, lighting up the stainless steel like it was auditioning for a magazine spread. I was proud of that place—my first home, bought on my own after landing a job with one of the top brokerage firms in the city. But the moment I heard Dad’s voice—steady, but tired—I knew.

“It’s time,” he said. “I can’t do it all alone anymore.”

That was all he needed to say. I pictured Grandpa’s old desk, the one with the carved legs and the deep drawer that always stuck, and the photo he kept of his first ‘Sold’ sign—tilted, sun-bleached, full of pride. Cold Spring wasn’t just a dot on the map. It was home. And the family business wasn’t just real estate. It was legacy.

So I packed up. Moved back. Not because I had to—but because I couldn’t imagine not.

***

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