Page 117 of To Bring You Back
She dropped her purse on the sidewalk and ran across the street. When she threw her arms around his neck, he picked her up and swung her around, his laugh reverberating with hers.
He set her back on her feet and used both hands to brush her hair away from her face. “I’ve missed you.”
He was here, his voice so much richer for not being filtered over airwaves. The fabric of his shirt soft and warm beneath her fingers. Had he always smelled this wonderful? And his eyes. If only it weren’t too dark to distinguish the color of his irises.
“I thought you were in China.”
“Was I?” He focused on her so intently, she believed that he couldn’t remember where he’d been and had no interest in thinking about it. He brushed his finger along her cheek, and the night air didn’t feel so cool anymore.
If she went up on tiptoe … but she remembered Drew and Tegan. She looked over her shoulder in time to see the living room light flip on. Drew was walking away down the sidewalk.
She and Gannon were alone, but how was this supposed to work, a reunion after so much time and distance? Could they rewind to that moment on the patio, to right before she’d said the word “friends” at the worst possible moment?
He laced their hands together. “Show me this remodel I’ve heard so much about.”
Direction. Good. They could ease into it—as long as he kept holding her hand, a gentle promise that he’d come for more than a musical and a tour of the house.
“I planted a tree.”
He chuckled as they crossed the street, hands linked. “I see that. Putting down roots.”
Until now, it hadn’t occurred to her that doing such a thing here, so far from LA, could cause problems for her and Gannon. Could they be serious about each other if she wanted to live here? Or would she have to give up the home she’d only just started to love?
Still gripping his hand, she dipped to pick up her purse.
“The porch turned out nice.”
This was the first time they’d held hands this way. Maybe she shouldn’t try to plan the whole future.
She’d installed plant hooks. In June, she planned to put up hanging baskets of petunias, but since they remained empty now, she resisted pointing them out. “The painters added stripes on the woodwork that make such a difference.” She motioned, but in the dark, the navy blue accents didn’t stand against the white and sky blue the way they did in daylight.
Still, Gannon’s line of sight obediently moved over the face of the house.
They mounted the steps, and she opened the door. Bruce passed her to sit before Gannon. He scrubbed the dog’s ears, but when she moved on to the kitchen, the pair followed her.
Tegan stood at the sink, pouring herself a glass of water. Gannon retook Adeline’s hand, and Tegan’s attempt to squelch a knowing smile only half succeeded. “Gannon, long time no see. How’s life treating you?”
“Can’t complain.” He turned his head, seeming to note the refinished cabinets, the white tile on the floor and backsplash, the countertops. Chip and his crew of generous volunteers had turned her worn, dated kitchen into something sparkling and white.
Tegan chuckled as she left the room, and Adeline understood. Gannon might’ve replied to her, but would he even remember greeting her now that she was gone?
“They put on a new roof, fixed the basement wall, and patched the ceiling of the upstairs bedroom where the leak was too. But the porch and this are my favorite parts.” She lifted her hand to the room that surrounded them.
Gannon’s interest sharpened on her arm. He opened his mouth, then shut it and met her eyes, his expression full of questions.
“Oh.” She laughed nervously and rubbed the tattoo.
He turned her wrist and ran his fingers over the Hebrew characters. When she’d had the tattoo done, she’d learned how sensitive the skin on the inside of her forearm was, but his touch took it to a whole new level.
“What verse is it?”
“Psalm 33:3, about singing a new song to God and playing stringed instruments.” The ink reminded her of her renewed relationship with God and also of Gannon, though seeing how similar hers was to his confirmed how bold the decision had been. “I probably should’ve asked permission first. People will think we’re …”
He leaned against the counter, his eyes fixed on her, golden and blue-green and intent. “You wanted space to focus on faith and making over your life.”
Bruce shuffled up and sat, leaning against Gannon’s leg like a seventy-pound anchor.
Good dog.
