Page 85 of Chasing the Sun
Because if I crossed that line now ... I didn’t know if I’d ever come back.
I swallowed hard and kept driving until I got back to the inn. I parked the truck and didn’t look back.
TWENTY-SIX
CALLUM
You’ve gotto stop stalking this poor woman.
That was the thought running through my head as I rolled to a slow halt in front of Star Harbor Farm, my fingers drumming against the worn leather of my steering wheel. I had places to be. Things to do.
But instead I sat there, watching her.
Again.
I had no damn business being there, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I owed her an apology. At the meeting with the Keepers, I had panicked. Without a plan, I had inserted myself, stomping all over Elodie in the process, and I had been beating myself up over it ever since.
Trouble was, I didn’t know how to explain to her that the only thing keeping me together was the prospect of the restaurant—something that she was standing directly in the way of. Still, my callous treatment of her at the meeting gnawed at me until I couldn’t stand to be away from her.
I knew my responsibility was back at the inn, fixing the busted latch on the back door, making sure the new guests had everything they needed, checking on the sourdoughstarter I had going in the kitchen. I could have been occupying myself with any number of things that had absolutely nothing to do with her, but I found myself lingering at the edge of the farm.
I watched her like some idiot who hadn’t already made this mistake before. I was a fool who hadn’t already learned that wanting Elodie Darling led straight to trouble.
But trouble sure looked good.
She was kneeling in the dirt, wrists deep in soil, her brow furrowed in concentration. Elodie was barefoot, because of course she was, her green rubber boots cast off haphazardly to the side. Her legs were tucked under her, the curve of her calves dusted in dirt, her cutoff shorts riding up just enough to show sun-warmed skin. The sun cast a golden glow over her shoulders, and when she lifted a hand to tuck a wayward curl behind her ear, my jaw flexed.
It should have irritated me, the way she got under my skin. A part of me hated the way she made me notice things. I shouldn’t be able to recall how she always smelled like vanilla and something softer. I didn’t need to know the way she could light up a room just by existing in it. It was none of my business that her determination was the most frustratingly beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
Any other version of me would have been annoyed, but at that moment, I wasn’t.
Elodie, her sister, and her niece were working near the entrance—right beside the new sign. Freshly painted, clean and crisp, “Star Harbor Farm” was spelled out in a welcoming script, the colors bright against the pristine wood.
I sighed, raking a hand through my hair, cursing myself for stopping in the first place. But before I could throwthe truck into reverse, my gaze flicked past her to the others—her family. Her mom and dad, her sisters—and Levi.
My gut twisted.
My son stood off to the side, shifting his weight like he wasn’t sure what he was doing there. Elodie’s mom was talking to Levi, her voice warm and easy, and whatever she said made him stand a little straighter. Levi’s shoulders squared like he was being given something real, a job that was simple, but important.
I climbed out of the truck before I could talk myself out of it, and the crunch of gravel beneath my boots gave me away. Levi glanced up, his eyes landing on me.
His expression flickered with something uncertain before he lifted his chin. “Am I supposed to go?”
Elodie’s mom turned to look at me, her green eyes crinkling at the edges. “Of course not, sweetheart.” She patted Levi’s shoulder with the same casual affection I’d seen her give her own kids. “We could use all the extra hands we can get.”
Levi brightened, just enough that I felt it in my chest.
I didn’t know what to do with that—with how easily they made room for him. There was no suspicion, no hesitation, just ... warmth. Levi hadn’t had the luxury of grandparents. Mine were across the country in my home state of Nevada, and Mary’s parents had been older, both passing away when Levi was an infant.
It was something I hadn’t even known Levi needed until I saw him stand a little taller, his hands tucked in his pockets like he was trying to be cool, but his face said it all. He wasn’t used to this, and neither was I. Something about the way they were with him—the way they welcomed him without an ounce of judgment—settled deep in my ribs.
He wasn’t a kid who got a lot of that, and it hit me harder than I was expecting.
Elodie glanced up from her spot in the dirt, watching the exchange with quiet interest. Her gaze flicked to me, eyes narrowing just a little, like she wasn’t sure what I was still doing there either.
Hell, if she figured it out, maybe she could clue me in.
Her mother’s voice rang out before I could decide whether to stay or go. “Since you’re standing there looking so capable, why don’t you make yourself useful and carry that crate of flowers over here?”
