Page 51 of Deception & Daylight (Oak Ridge #3)

Miles

? Everywhere I go - Wild Rivers

“ G et your head out of your ass, Miles.” Luca’s voice snaps me out of my memories, bringing me back to the present and the task at hand.

We’re finishing the hardwood install on the main floor of the ranch house, just in time for Ivy to go into full nesting mode.

She’s been chomping at the bit to get her grubby little paws on the nursery.

I pull off my ball cap, raking my hands through my hair. Maggie only left this morning, and I’ve checked my phone a dozen times already, hoping she’ll reach out. “Give her some time. She’ll come around.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” I admit. After all but begging her to stay, I made myself scarce, and I regret not doing more to keep her. “She warned me she wasn’t capable of staying, and I fell for her anyway.”

“So what are you gonna do about it?” he asks.

“A thousand paper cranes? Fly to Toronto and fall to your knees? Don’t forget to wear some fucking shin guards.

But for fuck’s sake, stop sitting here like a wounded puppy.

” With a sly grin, he throws my own words back at me, catching me off guard.

It wasn’t so long ago I was saying those exact words to Luca when Ivy left Oak Ridge.

“Are you done?” I ask, my tone impassive.

“Not quite. Maggie doesn’t know what it’s like to have someone fight for her — someone who wants to keep her. You have to show her what that’s like. Show her she’s worth it.”

His words hit their mark, and I’m filled with a renewed sense of determination as a plan starts to form in my mind. I’m gonna get my girl back come hell or high water. She belongs here with me — with everyone in Oak Ridge. We’re her fucking family, and it’s about time she realizes it.

“Yeah, I thought so,” Luca says, smirking. “You’ve got that look in your eyes. Just let me know if you need me to do anything.”

I toss him the mallet and he fumbles to catch it. “Yeah. Finish your own fucking flooring. I have a flight to catch.”

With only raw determination and a vague plan in place, I touch down in Toronto the following morning.

Sliding into the back passenger seat of an Uber, I head towards my downtown hotel.

It’s located only a few doors down from the bookshop where Mags is having her first book signing tomorrow.

As I step out of the car, I pass by a massive display in the shop window with a gorgeous photo of my girl holding up a copy of her new book, Finding Daylight.

Memories resurface of the morning we laid in bed, when she told me she wanted the title of her book to reflect the time in her life that brought her out of the darkness.

Her eyes were full of contentment for the first time since she came back i nto my life, and I saw my own happiness reflected there.

I never imagined she’d be gone less than a month later.

An older woman smiles as I enter the shop, stopping briefly at the new releases display to pick up a copy of the book. When I approach the counter she asks, “Is this for your wife? Girlfriend maybe?”

“No, ma’am. I’m just a fan.” She has no idea just how true that statement is. Nobody could possibly love M.W. Hartley as much as I do.

“That’s lovely, dear. The author will be here tomorrow. You should come back and have it signed.”

Unsure how to respond, I settle for a quick thank you, letting her know I’d be back for the signing. With a kind smile, she hands me the bag and I make my way to the hotel.

Back in my room, I fall onto the plush bed and pull out the book, opening it to the first few pages. All of the air rushes out of me as I read the dedication, my heartbeat pounding out a frantic rhythm against the onslaught of emotions.

To the little town in Kentucky that brought me peace.

To the best friend who never for a second gave up on me.

And to the man who saw me and gave me daylight.

I reread the last sentence over and over until the words have lost all meaning, and everything around me is steeped in darkness.

Maggie Watson is my daylight, and if she never wants to return to Oak Ridge, I’ll follow her all over the world.

But I have a feeling Oak Ridge is as much her home as it is mine, and I’ll do everything I can to bring her back to us.

Mag s

After a restless night in Tori’s guest bedroom, and nothing but time alone with my thoughts, I decide to return to the house and pack up my things. I could easily let someone else do it, but I feel like I need to go back, if only for the possibility of closure.

The key turns in the lock with a loud click, and my nerves start to take over as I step into the entryway.

Everything looks just as it did when I left, only there’s an extra set of keys on the hook — Eric’s keys.

I shudder and step past them. The house doesn’t even smell the same anymore.

It has the distinct lingering odor of bleach, no trace of the lavender, sage smell that used to permeate the air.

Nothing is out of place, but it feels all wrong.

This isn’t my home anymore — it’s just somewhere I existed for a while.

I pause at the back of the couch, replaying memories of Paige’s FaceTime conversations with Cade, catching glimpses of Miles on the screen interrupting their conversations and cracking jokes.

I was drawn to him even then. Looking back now, I should’ve seen the differences in the Miles I was talking to online and the one who showed up in Paige’s life.

There were so many glaringly obvious inconsistencies I didn’t pick up on at the time, but now they’re clear as day.

My hand trails along the railing as I head upstairs to the bedrooms, bypassing Eric’s room on the way to mine.

I flick on the light, finding everything just as I left it.

There’s a pile of laundry on the bed where I frantically searched for things to pack, half burned candles on the shelf above my headboard, and a mangled proof copy of my debut novel on the nightstand, tabbed and highlighted within an inch of its life.

My chest aches at the tainted memories that still live here — our annual pumpkin carving night, the housewarming party, Paige falling in love long-distance.

But maybe they don’t have to be limited to this place.

They aren’t any less val uable now that Paige is gone, and when I inevitably leave, they’ll come with me.

Those moments shaped who I am, for better or worse.

Eric doesn’t get to take that away from me.

Pulling my phone from my back pocket, I type out a quick text to Paige.

Mags: I miss you. This place doesn’t feel like home anymore.

Paige: Miss you, too.

Paige: Home is wherever you want it to be, Mags.

Home is the place that healed me when I felt irrevocably broken. Home is where my friends held me while I fell apart. Home is where I found daylight.Home is Oak Ridge.Home is Miles Barlow.

Mags: I’m coming home after the signing. Save me a seat at Rosie’s.

Paige: It’s about damn time.