Page 93 of Return to Us
I turn, my chest tight as emotions swirl inside me. He brought me to a place that matters to him. He’s sharing something he’s never shown anyone else.
“Not even Uncle Jack knows!” Melia informs me as she spins in circles.
“Why. You. Place.” I release a shaky breath, feeling so overwhelmed I can’t get the words out.
Grayson reaches for my hand, lacing our fingers together. “Easy, Jess.”
Nothing about this is easy. He’s letting me into his life, his heart, and something that he and his daughter shared.
I want so badly to ask him why, but I already know why. Because it’s us.
He and I have always been this way. We don’t know how to love with reservations. The day I fell in love with Grayson Parkerson, he stole every part of me. He loved me so wholly that there wasn’t a chance of anyone else being able to hold my heart in its completion.
“You really suck at this slow thing.”
He grins. “I don’t know how much time I have, so here’s my warning, love, I’m not holding back.”
Before I can respond, Amelia rushes back to us. “Come on! I have to show you the boat.”
I walk away with her, looking back at Grayson, already feeling like I’m up to my neck in water.
* * *
“Will you come to my recital?” Melia asks while we’re floating in the boat—if one can call it that.
“When is it?”
“Next month.”
“I would love to,” I tell her.
“Daddy, do we have enough tickets?”
He nods. “I got extra.”
Grayson is rowing us out toward the other side of the lake as Melia and I lounge at the front under a blanket.
The boat, which I swore I would not get in, has no bench in the front, forcing us to lie down. Melia thinks it’s great since we made a makeshift bed and we have snacks. I feel much too close to the water and the lapping sounds make it seem as if I’m about to get soaked at any second.
After a few more minutes pass, I start to relax a bit more, and Melia and I decide to find shapes in the clouds.
“That looks like a castle.”
“It does.”
She keeps searching. “And that looks like a caterpillar.”
I grin. “I think it could be a worm.”
“Or maybe it’s a pencil!” Amelia moves quickly, causing the boat to rock.
“Easy, Monkey, or we’ll be going swimming, which is not in our plans.”
She lies back down carefully. “Sorry, Daddy.”
“It’s okay, just go slow.”
I instantly look up at him, smiling. “Yes, we should all go slow.”
