Page 107 of One Touch

Annie frowned when I shook my head. “We agreed to work things out for ourselves first. It’s so freaking hard, but honestly? It’s been ...good. I don’t have to stress or worry about whether or not he’s going to call. I know he isn’t, and that’s actually okay. He’s buried in work, and I am making headway on turningHome Againinto something that fills my bucketandmakes me money. Right now, I think I’m where I need to be.”

“What about Beckett?”

I looked up at the concerned eyes of my friend, who had known me since childhood. “Duke said he’s in therapy.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “That’s great.” She reached over and squeezed my hand. “We’re all rooting for you.”

I looked up from my coffee to sneak a peek at her. “Have you seen the Instagram posts?”

Annie laughed. “Girl.Everyonehas seen them. It’s so obvious he’s calling you out.” She let out a wistful sigh. “It’s so romantic.”

“At first I thought I was imagining things, but then he started tagging theHome Againpage constantly. It’s definitely creating a buzz for both pages, and the one about the windows? It went viral. It’s weird to have people publicly speculating about our relationship, but the mystery of it all is also kind of fun.” I shook my head and then let out a frustrated sigh to the universe. “Ugh. I can’t wait until this is all over.”

Annie let her soft eyes soak me in as she sipped her latte. “Did you hear about the beach house?”

I shrugged. “I know it sold and the new owners wasted no time turning it into an Airbnb. At least, that’s what people are saying.”

“JP King sold it, so it’s no wonder we haven’t heard much about it. I’m sure it’ll be another vacation monstrosity that will be full of tourists come summer.”

At least it wasn’t a King living in Beckett’s house.

Annie’s attention dropped to her phone. “Speak of the devil. Looks like you got another tag.” She spun her phone toward me. The snapshot was of an interior room, walls gutted down to the studs. As I always did, I scoured the picture for any hints or clues, any scrap of detail that could make me feel closer to him. It was a closely cropped picture of him in front of the two-by-fours, his sexy scowl on full display.

Brutish BuilderCollaboration is key—in relationships and in any successful construction project. As a builder, I know that it takes a team effort to create something truly special. My client asked for a quiet reading and office space. @HomeAgain—which would you choose? Rolling ladder or reading nook? Maybe both?

* * *

Every springin the Midwest there were a handful of days that were so warm, everyone was irrationally hopeful that winter was finally over.

My face turned up to the warm sun, and I prayed this was not one of those days, but a true sign of spring. The waters of Lake Michigan were still brutally cold, but the snow had thawed, and the crocus and hyacinth blooming in Tootie’s garden beds were the ray of hope I needed.

The cold, dark winter was finally coming to an end, and I couldn’t help but feel like something had blossomed inside of me as well.

I was thriving.

Since putting down my roots and settling into my hometown, they had embraced me. People no longer questioned how long I was in town for, but called to make plans, and I could see a bright future unfolding. I was finally settling into my small coastal town.

But it was a future that I couldn’t imagine without Beckett.

The first weeks were brutal. I knew we were torturing ourselves by sticking with our promise to limit communication and work on ourselves. Most people, including my beloved aunt, thought I was a fool for being so stubborn about it, especially when she could see through my brave facade to how heartsick I was.

When we separated, I knew there was a risk that he would get tired. Move on and take the easy route. But, with every Instagram post that was not so subtly directed to me, I knew he was holding on to the same sparks of hope I was.

But it didn’t stop the prickles of nervousness.What if I asked too much? What if being apart only proves he doesn’t need this? Need us?

I tamped down the nagging thought. Everything unfolding in my life proved to me that being here, investing in my hometown, was the right choice. My relationships were stronger than ever.

I laughed—freely and often.

I was home, and that was only possible because I had made the choice to be present. To give myself to my friends and family in a way that was never possible before, because I’d always chosen to wrap myself up in a relationship.

For the past few weeks, I’d also begun to realize I couldn’t stay in the barn apartment of Highfield House forever. The newly improved life of Kate Sullivan also meant branching out on my own. Last week I had mentioned to Lee that I was looking for a place to call my own, and he promised to keep an eye out. He could barely contain his excitement that I was looking for something permanent in Outtatowner. Of course, once Duke heard, he called to offer one of his many spare bedrooms.

Absolutely fucking not.

Taking advantage of the warmer weather, the real estate agent I was working with asked whether I wanted to see a few rental properties around town. With nothing better to do, I had agreed. So, with a light jacket and a tender heart full of hope, I climbed into my car to head to the first property and tried not to wonder what Beckett was up to.

THIRTY-EIGHT

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