Page 60 of Meet Me in the Valley (Oakwood Valley #2)

But then her eyes fly open, and she spins toward my dad, realization dawning.

“You’re my grandpa.”

“I am,” Dad says, amused, his brows lifting.

Cali steps in front of him, looking up like he’s ten feet tall. Which, to be fair, is exactly how I see him too—a man of quiet strength and a galaxy-sized heart.

“But you’re white.”

“Calista Constance Young!” Nora hisses, face turning crimson. Mom covers her mouth to hide a laugh, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek not to do the same. But then Mom’s eyes light up as she looks at Nora and mouths, “Constance?”

Nora nods with a smile. My mom’s name.

“What?” Cali turns to her mom with a helpless shrug. “I wasn’t trying to be rude! I swear I have a point.”

Nora lets out a breath, her voice tight. “Then make it.”

“Okay, okay.” Cali refocuses on Dad, who’s now visibly fighting a grin. “I just meant—since Oma is Oma, is there a name I should call you, too? Like, the opposite of Oma?”

“Opa,” Mom chimes in with a grin, clearly delighted by the whole exchange.

I’m equally entertained, though my sister looks like she’d pay good money to hop on the next flight back to Vegas and redo this entire introduction. We lock eyes, and I give her a look that says, “It’s okay, ” hoping to ease her nerves.

Cali is magic, and just like I knew they would be, my parents are already smitten.

“O-pa,” Cali repeats, trying it out. “That’s cool. How do you feel about that one?”

Dad doesn’t hesitate. “I’d love to be your Opa.”

“Cool.” Without missing a beat, Cali wraps her arms around his waist. It catches him off guard for a split second—then he melts, folding around her like he’s held her a hundred times before. He presses a kiss to the top of her head, eyes squeezing shut.

Mom rises from her seat, linking her hand with Nora’s as they slowly walk over. She rests her head on Dad’s shoulder, her other arm pulling Nora and Cali into the embrace. Dad wraps them all up in one big circle, like his entire world is finally back within reach.

He kisses Nora’s cheek and leans in to whisper something in her ear.

Whatever he says breaks her. She nods, crying harder now as she buries her face into his shoulder.

After everything in Vegas, this moment felt impossible. When I boarded that plane back to Austin, I thought I had failed. I thought I’d lost any chance of helping stitch our family back together.

The yelling. The hurt. The silence that stretched for years.

But all of it seems to fade now.

Because here we are—together again.

And for the first time in a long time, it feels like home.

Nora’s eyes lift over Dad’s shoulder, searching for me. She reaches out a hand, tears still fresh on her cheeks. Her expression softens as I watch nothing but peace wash over her. It nearly takes my breath away at the sight.

“Come here,” she cries, her voice thick. “We’re not complete without you.”

My heart swells as I step forward, like some invisible thread finally pulling me in. I close the distance and slip into the circle, Nora’s arm drawing me close as the hug widens to fit us all.

Mom’s hand finds mine. Dad presses a kiss on the top of my head. Cali leans into my side with a small sigh.

And suddenly, I’m surrounded by everything I thought I’d lost.

It’s not perfect. The cracks are still there.

But this—this is the beginning of something new.

And as I rest my cheek against my sister’s shoulder, I think of Logan. The way he looked at me the last time we saw each other, like he still saw the best version of me, even when I couldn’t. The way he believed I could be the glue, the steady thread, even when everything was falling apart.

How this moment right here wouldn’t be happening if it weren’t for him.

It hits me that this moment that this family was never mine to fix. It was mine to believe in.

And it’s not too late to believe in us, too.

Thankfully, Mom’s good day held steady after a tearful reunion with Nora. It was as if no time had passed. Our conversations slipped back into rhythm with barely a hint of awkwardness.

Cali helped with that, of course. She took her role as the first granddaughter very seriously, tugging on my parents’ heartstrings all night like she’d been doing it her whole life.

After she turned in early for bed, I gave Nora and my parents some space—stepping away so they could talk freely, ask questions, say what needed to be said.

It wasn’t about me anymore. I’d already found the answers I was seeking and with them, a kind of peace I didn’t know I needed.

That was hours ago.

And now, the pull to drive to Torren’s dock presses on me with a quiet, relentless force.

It’s so strong, I move without thought—throwing on a sweatshirt from the closet, slipping into my sneakers, grabbing my keys and heading for the door.

I’m already halfway to my car when I stop cold, drawing in a deep inhale as fall in California settles in the air, the remnants of summer gone.

Not just want— need.

The thought lands like a punch to the chest. My knees nearly give out under the weight of it.

I miss him so fucking much it hurts.

My hand clenches around the keys, sharp edges biting into my skin, grounding me in the ache that’s finally breaking through.

Because now that I’ve made space for Nora, for Cali, for Mom and Dad, there’s nothing left holding the walls up.

And in their absence, all that’s left is him.

Logan.

Every beat of my heart feels like it’s calling for him, and I don’t know how much longer I can stand the silence.

I fumble with my phone, pulling it from my pocket, my fingers trembling as they hover over his name.

It’s been so long since I’ve heard his voice. I need to hear it.

Without another thought, I tap his name and press the phone hard to my ear. I pace the length of my parent’s driveway, each step syncing with the steady thrum of my pulse.

It rings. And rings. And rings.

With every echo, my nerves fray, hope unraveling thread by thread.

Then, finally, the ringing stops.

There’s a shuffle on the other end—sheets maybe, or the rustle of movement—and then I hear him.

“T?”

“Hey,” I breathe, a small chuckle escaping before I can stop it. Like hearing him just healed something in me I didn’t know was broken.

“Hey. You’re up late. Missing me or something?”

His voice is low, rough with sleep and just a hint of tease. Warmth curls around the edges of every word. It slides through me like a match struck in the dark, sparking something I thought I’d buried back in Vegas.

I’m blushing and he’s barely said a handful of words.

“Or something,” I say, biting my lip to keep the smirk from fully forming.

His low chuckle rumbles through the line, and I feel it everywhere. The ache from missing him slowly shifts to something darker—hungrier.

“It’s so fucking good to hear your voice, T.”

“You have no idea,” I whisper, drifting toward the front of my car and climbing onto the hood. The metal is cool beneath me, but I’m burning from the inside out.

“Oh, trust me. I do.”

Again with the blushing.

I tilt my head back, eyes scanning the night sky. I count the stars, wondering how many hang between me and him. On the other end, I hear a soft rustle, then the faint click of what I believe is his bedside lamp.

“I’m sorry for waking you,” I murmur. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Ah, that’s okay. You can always call. Want to tell me what’s going on?”

The months of holding back, the late nights I spent fighting my thoughts of him, and the countless hours he invades every corner of my mind break through the threshold.

Even after I pushed him away that day in the hotel room, spewed the ugliest words in his face, and left on a plane with no goodbye after everything we went through together—he still showed up for me.

He went to my sister and fought for me, knowing she was the missing piece to this brokenness inside me before I could even realize it. Today was the best day … because of him.

“Nora is here,” I pause. “You brought her to me. To my family.”

Logan doesn’t respond right away, and the quiet hum of his breath on the other end makes it feel like he’s right here beside me.

A cool breeze brushes against the damp trails on my cheeks, and I close my eyes, imagining we’re on Torren’s dock again. The place where everything between us began.

Logan breaks the silence, his voice quiet over the line as if he’s whispering right into my ear. I swear I feel his breath.

“I didn’t think she’d listen to me. She’s just as stubborn as you. Maybe worse,” he teases lightly, the trace of a smile in his words.

A breathy laugh escapes me, curling into the quiet between us.

It feels like us again. Like we’ve come through something. Waded through the storm. Found our way back to each other on the other side. The heaviness lifts, just enough for the clarity to settle in.

I’m in love with him. And I want him to come home.

To me.

“Why’d you do it? After the way I treated you—how I pushed you away?—”

“You know why I did it.”

Because you love me.

“And you could never push me away,” Logan continues. “If anything, you pushed me in a way I needed. I wasn’t even close to being the man you deserved back in Vegas.”

His words land with weight, but not heaviness. Just truth. And it’s hard to sit with. It’s why I let him go before I came back to Oakwood Valley. Deep down, I knew he had his own battles to fight—ones he needed to face without me at his side.

And me? I wasn’t ready either. I wasn’t the woman who could accept the kind of love Logan had to give. Even if that love was driven by years of comfort, lust, and familiarity.

But now, my heart finally feels ready. Wide open. The veil between us lifted. And I want him.

Fully. Freely.

I want to give him all of me—heart, soul, everything in between. His love is the only one I want.

I close my eyes again, steadying myself, imagining him here. Like I always do.

“Are you a man deserving now?” I ask, voice barely above a breath.

“Let me see your face.”

My eyes fly open, sitting up straighter as the blood rushes to my chest. “What?”

A second later, a video call request lights up my phone. My face appears on the screen—puffy eyes, messy hair, all of it.

“Let me see you,” he says again, gentle but insistent. “Answer it.”

A rush of adrenaline pulses through me as I accept the video call.

“There’s my girl.”

“I look awful.”

“Don’t talk about my future wife like that.”

“Logan,” I giggle, cheeks instantly flushing. “You’re so dumb.” I cover my face, the heat of the blush blooming under my palm.

“Don’t do that,” he says softly. “I’ve missed that smile.”

I peek through my splayed fingers, then drop my hand with a teasing huff. “This smile?”

I bare my teeth in the most exaggerated, unflattering way I can manage. He bursts out laughing, the sound coiling around me like something I’ve been starving for. He tips his head back, and for a second, I just take him in.

Sleep still clings to his eyes, soft and half-lidded, and his hair is a complete mess. Flattened on one side, sticking up on the other like he fought a pillow and lost.

God, he looks so good.

It reminds me of waking up in his arms, tangled in sheets and sunlight, with his lips pressed to my temple as he stares down at me, sated and happy.

“That’s the one. Damn, I love that smile.”

The fake grin I gave him fades, melting into something real. The one that only ever shows up for him.

We fall quiet as we stare at each other. Soaking in the space between us, filling it with everything we’ve missed. There’s something lighter and unburdened in him. Even with sleep still clinging to his lashes, he looks rested. Whole. His skin glows. His eyes shine.

Then his voice draws me back in.

“You asked me if I’m a man deserving now.”

The question hangs in the air between us, reverent. I nod slowly, the corners of my smile still tugging upward, though my heart is pounding like crazy.

He leans into the camera just slightly, gaze locked on mine.

“I want you to look at me when I answer, because I need you to see how much I mean it.”

I hold my breath.

“I’m not perfect, T. I won’t pretend to be. But I’m not the same man you walked away from. I just need you to know … I’ve changed. I’m done running. For the first time in my life, I feel free.”

The moment the words leave him, I believe it. I believe it so deeply my bones ache with the truth of it.

His gaze holds mine, rooted and unshakable.

“I’m not only a man deserving of you now,” Logan rasps, full of unwavering confidence. “I’m the man who won’t let you go this time.”

Tears well up before I can stop them, blurring the screen, his face. But I don’t look away. I want to see him. I want to memorize this version of him—the man he’s become. The one I always hoped he’d find within himself.

“Come back to me,” I whisper, clutching the phone so tight I hope he feels it on the other side. The need to hug him, kiss him, breathe him in.

“Soon, T. I swear. Do you trust me?”

With my heart.

With the parts of me no one else has ever touched.

With my whole fucking life.

“Yes,” I breathe. “I trust you.”