Page 62 of Mine

I rolled my eyes and started to tell him I already had his number and wouldn’t be needing another fancy, overpriced piece of black card stock, but he flipped it over before I could speak. There were four digits scribbled on the back, barely legible.

“What’s this?”

“Marshal has the gate code,” West said. “But that’s the code to the lake house. It’ll open the front, the back, and the garage. Just in case you ever want to go.”

I should’ve felt grateful. But all I felt was hollow. It was such a thoughtful gesture, but it didn’t feel as though it had come from the man I had just kissed with wild abandon. A man who had nearly torn the clothes off my body hours earlier.

It felt formal. Professional. A gift you give to someone you don’t plan on seeing again.

“Thanks,” I said, tucking the card into my purse. “I’m going home to check on my dad.”

He nodded once, then placed a hand on my back and led me toward the SUV.

He opened the door for me, helped me inside, then closed it without another word.

Through the tinted window, I turned back to watch him walk toward his own car. He nodded to Marcus, climbed in, and just like that, our cars went in opposite directions.

I leaned back in my seat, the ache in my chest so loud it nearly echoed.

Marshal glanced at me in the rearview mirror, concern in his eyes but I gave him a weak wave. “I’m good.”

He nodded and turned his attention back to the road.

We passed through Harmony Haven, the heart of it still warm from the morning sun, and then out the other side into Pecan Grove.

When we pulled into my driveway, I remembered my car was still at Fiddlers, so instead of asking Marshal to leave, I told him I’d need a ride there after I checked on my dad.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, stepping out to open the door. “I’ll be right here when you’re ready.”

The house was quiet. My dad’s usual post by the front window, where he watched the street, was vacant. I stepped inside, sliding the ring off my finger and calling his name, but nothing came back.

The living room was spotless. Lisa’s handiwork, no doubt. A chocolate pie sat on the counter under a glass dome. Dad’s favorite. I slid my finger under the cover and swiped a bite.

Perfect. Damnit.

Still, I couldn’t shake the unease. I called out again and checked the back. His room was empty. The bathroom door stood wide open. I pulled out my phone, heart hammering.

Finally, on the third ring, he answered. “Hey, darling!”

“Dad, where are you?”

“Oh, Lisa and I went for a ride. You home already?”

“Yeah. Just walked in. I’ve got the rest of the day off.”

“Shit, I’m sorry. I would’ve let you know we were leaving, but I didn’t expect you till later. It’s barely two.”

“Yeah, we had to get back. West had to work and I was anxious to check on you.”

“Well, we’re thinking of having a late lunch at the diner on Fourth Street in Harmony Haven. You wanna join us?”

I almost said no. I didn’t want to share the little time I had with him with Lisa. But then I heard something in his voice I hadn’t heard in a long time—happiness. He was out. Living. Not waiting for me to guide him or worry about him.

It stung a little that he didn’t seem to need me.

But it also felt like a kind of freedom.

“I’ll be right there, Dad. Lunch sounds amazing.”