Page 71 of Meet Me in the Valley (Oakwood Valley #2)
TIA
“It’s like Uncle Sam threw up in here,” Nora mutters, scrunching her nose as we step into the foyer at the King Estate.
Cali gasps, clutching a string of imaginary pearls as if her mother has just said the most offensive thing. “Mom! Where’s your holiday spirit?”
She waves a tiny American flag in her mother’s face for dramatic effect, then readjusts the outrageous headband on her head. The metallic tassels bob around like they’ve got minds of their own.
Nora gives her a long, unimpressed look. “You look like a festive porcupine.”
Cali grins proudly. “Thank you, Mommy.”
I bite back a laugh, elbowing Nora gently as Cali twirls through the room, totally in awe. Her camera bounces against her chest as she takes in the over-the-top decorations.
It’s been a gift having my sister and niece here for the summer. They flew in a few days ago and are planning to stay for the month. It’s something we all need, especially now.
Mom’s health has been on a slow, painful decline. And while none of us want to admit it, Dad’s been brutally honest. Memory care may become necessary within the year.
Last month, we had a scare that shook us all. Mom wandered off into the neighborhood and got lost. For two agonizing hours, we searched with hearts in our throats. Thankfully, a neighbor who recognized her brought her home safe.
Ever since that day, Mom’s worn a GPS tracker and never leaves the house without her medical ID bracelet, even if she complains that it “clashes with everything.”
We let her have that one small protest. Because the alternative? We’ve already lived that fear, and we’re not risking it again.
“You think Oma will be okay at the party?” sweet Cali asks.
The empathy she has for her grandmother pulls at my heartstrings. I thought that Cali turning thirteen recently would somehow ramp up the teen-angst, but turns out my niece is one in a million in the empathy department.
“You know, I think she’ll be alright. If things get a little too much, Opa will take her home,” I tell her, bopping the tip of her nose with my finger.
As we walk further into the house, we come to the large open living room space. It’s like the Fourth of July exploded in here, but in the most King family way.
An enormous American flag hangs across the back wall, draped like a theatrical curtain. Red, white, and blue bunting swags across the ceiling between wooden beams, lit by tiny battery-powered stars blinking from the garland like fireflies.
Cali squeals at the massive kitchen island, complete with a centerpiece of mini American flags, bowls of red and blue M&M’s, chocolate-dipped pretzels, and homemade sugar cookies shaped like stars.
Grace King saunters around the corner in a festive apron, her face lighting up the moment she sees us.
“You ladies made it!”
She opens her arms, and I step into her embrace, the soft scent of bergamot wrapping around me like a hug in itself—elegant, classy, and very Grace.
When we pull apart, I step aside. “Grace, this is my niece, Cali.”
“Hi!” Cali grins, extending a hand with nails painted red, white, and blue. “Your house is really pretty. It’s also the biggest one I’ve ever seen. And you smell amazing.”
Grace laughs, shaking her hand with amusement. “Why, thank you, Cali. It’s so lovely to meet you. My goodness, your eyes are beautiful.”
“Thank you! My mom says they look exactly like my dad’s. But I don’t know him. Never even seen a picture.”
The air shifts. Grace’s smile holds steady, but it’s softer now, gentler. Discomfort flickers across Nora’s eyes as the color drains from her face.
I know Cali’s dad is a sensitive topic for Nora. Something we don’t bring up or talk about in great detail. But Cali is a teenager now. It’s only natural for her to be curious about her father.
“Calista,” Nora says quickly, her voice light but tight around the edges, “that’s not something you need to share with everyone, babe.”
Cali shrugs, unfazed as usual. “Sorry, but it’s true.”
Nora gives a tight-lipped smile, like she’s trying to keep something from unraveling.
I give a half-hearted laugh to break the tension that’s suddenly simmering just below the surface now.
“And this is my sister, Nora. She and Cali are visiting from Las Vegas for the month.”
Grace extends her hand, gracious as ever.
Nora takes it, but there’s hesitation in the movement, just a fraction too long before her fingers close around Grace’s. Nora’s smile is there, but it seems performative, like slipping on a mask. It’s not exactly cold, but there’s no mistaking the restraint in her demeanor.
I glance at her, filing it away. There’s something tight in her posture and the way her eyes flit around the room like she’s looking for an exit.
“Welcome, Nora. So glad you could make it.”
“Thank you,” Nora says almost sheepishly.
But I don’t overthink it. Not now. It could be nothing—or something we’ll unpack later, when the house isn’t buzzing with people and red, white, and blue everything.
Before I can dwell on it any further, the back door swings open, and there’s my Logan, looking like every sinful summer fantasy I’ve ever had.
He’s in a fitted navy t-shirt that clings to his chest and shoulders in all the right places, the fabric stretching ever so slightly when he moves.
His athletic shorts sit perfectly on his hips, hitting mid-thigh and revealing just enough of his toned legs to make me lose my train of thought.
The backward baseball cap seals the deal.
All boyish charm with the confidence of a man who knows exactly what he’s doing.
And God help me ... it works. Every damn time.
“Get over here, baby,” Logan calls, opening his arms with that crooked smile that’s impossible to resist.
I’m in his arms in seconds, feet off the ground as our lips collide in a sweet, breath-stealing kiss. Somewhere behind us, Cali makes a loud gagging sound.
“Ugh, get a room,” she groans.
“You know, that’s not a bad idea. I’d love a repeat of this morning,” Logan rasps in my ear.
A blush climbs up my chest as flashes of this morning flicker through my mind. Logan thrusting into me like a madman before the sun had even risen, the memory playing out like my favorite dirty movie.
We’ve been staying in Logan’s dad’s pool house while our home is still under construction. I still spend a few nights a week at my parents’ place to help with Mom, but having a space just for Logan and me feels like a soft landing after long, emotional days.
And somewhere in the chaos of building our custom home, we started a business together.
TLo Concepts. Oakwood Valley’s very own design duo, Logan handles architecture, I’m on interiors.
Thanks to the network we built at Corrigan and Roy’s glowing referrals, we’ve begun working with clients all over Northern California.
The past six months together have been nothing short of pure bliss. Every day is a new adventure. A new challenge. A life I can’t believe is mine with Logan by my side.
“Have I told you how much I love you today?” Logan whispers, dotting kisses all over my face, then settling again on my lips.
I smile against Logan’s mouth, laughing as he gently sets me down. “Yes. Only about a million times.”
“That’s not enough.”
This man never fails to make my stomach flip.
I brush my nose against his, only for him to steal one more quick kiss before nudging me aside with a playful shove.
“Cali girl!” he grins, holding his arms wide.
Cali breaks into a delighted jog, flinging herself at him. Logan lifts her easily, spinning her in a circle as she giggles and squeals.
“Hey, Uncle Logan!”
When he sets her down, they launch into their ridiculous secret handshake—a chaotic mashup of high-fives, fist bumps, finger snaps, and an exaggerated fart noise to finish it off.
Nora rolls her eyes beside me, but there’s the faintest twitch of a smile at the corner of her mouth. Ah, the classic Young women move: deny amusement at all costs.
Logan, of course, zeroes in on her like a heat-seeking missile.
“Noraaa,” he sing-songs, arms open. “Come here, sis! I missed you!”
She immediately starts backing away. “Absolutely not. Don’t even try it.”
But Logan’s already chasing her in slow, dramatic pursuit around the massive living room, arms outstretched like a toddler who doesn’t know personal space.
“Oh, come on,” he whines, over-the-top and gleeful. “We’re practically family. Get your stubborn ass over here!”
No matter how much Nora tries to pretend otherwise, she has a serious soft spot for Logan.
She always has. I think it traces back to that day in Vegas last year, when he showed up at her door the morning after I left.
Something shifted between them that day.
A quiet understanding. A mutual respect that’s lingered ever since.
And Cali absolutely adores him. Every visit, she practically counts down the days until she can hang with Uncle Logan again.
Secretly, I think Nora loves it too—watching her daughter light up, getting a break from the weight she carries. Even if she’ll never admit it out loud.
And if there’s anyone who can lift the weird energy that settled earlier when we arrived, it’s Logan.
From the corner of my eye, I catch the rest of our friends outside playing corn hole. Laughter spills in through the open patio doors.
“Nora,” I say, nudging her gently, “just give him a hug so we can go join everyone. He won’t stop until you give him one.”
She lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Fine.”
With dramatic reluctance, she steps into Logan’s arms. She tries for a half-hearted side hug, but Logan wraps her in a full-frontal squeeze, lifting her slightly off the ground for good measure.
He plants a kiss on her cheek, and she immediately pulls back, scrunching her nose in mock disgust.
I loop my arm through Nora’s, and together, we head outside to greet the rest of the group.