Page 31

THIRTY

ANDRE

As I drove to Ethan’s house, my mind raced with possibilities. The Library Association’s offer opened up options for the fall. But would Ethan think that was too much too soon? Or perhaps not enough?

His front door stood ajar, inviting me in. The transformation in the house struck me immediately. Where boxes had dominated before, framed family photos now adorned the mantel. A small table by the door cradled a bowl holding his keys and wallet. The space breathed with life now.

“Ethan?” I called once I’d closed the door. The rich aroma of seasoned food got my stomach rumbling. It was almost like being in the restaurant.

“Upstairs!” His voice tumbled down, and I loved how much like home just hearing him felt. “Be right there. Make yourself comfortable!”

I wandered toward the kitchen, discovering new touches throughout the house.

A collection of hockey memorabilia spread across one shelf caught my eye—photos of Ethan in his high school and college uniforms, trophies, and team pennants.

Regret pinched my heart. What would really knowing him have been like back then?

I shoved that aside. Nothing was served by second-guessing that time.

The deck doors stood open, a comfortable summer breeze drifting in.

His kitchen had been transformed. A coffee maker and blender sat together on a spotless counter.

Mugs and glasses lined the open shelves in tidy rows.

Two place settings waited on the island, complete with wine glasses and cloth napkins folded into perfect triangles.

A bottle of red wine breathed nearby, the deep burgundy catching the evening light.

Footsteps sounded on the stairs, drawing my gaze. Ethan descended, wearing dark shorts and a forest green T-shirt that intensified the blue of his eyes. His bare feet padded across the hardwood. The casual confidence in his stance and how completely at home he was in this space stole my breath.

“Hey,” he said, voice low and intimate, a smile warming his entire face. “It’s good to see you.” He crossed to where I was standing, his proximity radiating heat against my skin. He gave me a gentle kiss and I returned it.

We didn’t linger long, but it was the perfect way to start the evening.

“You too.” The nervous flutter in my chest settled with the kiss. “Italian food was the right choice. It smells amazing.” I motioned toward the oven.

He pulled open the refrigerator door, revealing that he’d been to the store. “Finally stocked up. What’s your pleasure? Hibiscus tea, wine, sparkling water, soda, beer…” His eyes found mine with a hint of pride. “Even decent coffee.”

A warmth spread through me at the thought of him remembering my preferences, another sign of roots taking hold.

“The wine sounds perfect.” The corner of my mouth lifted as he reached for the bottle already on the counter and poured with practiced ease.

“Thought we’d eat at the island,” he said, sliding a glass across the granite surface. “Slightly easier between the meals, the bread, and the salad that’s in the fridge.”

His fingers lingered against mine, electric currents shooting up my arm from the connection.

“Perfect. Maybe outside later.” I slid onto one of the stools. “The house looks wonderful—things getting unpacked and arranged. It’s really becoming yours.” The wine hit my tongue—rich blackberry and vanilla notes with a hint of spice. He’d chosen well.

“Insomnia has its uses.” His lips quirked into a half smile. “Unpacked for a few hours, then consolidated the remaining boxes in one of the spare rooms. Needed something to occupy my thoughts besides…” He took a slow sip, blue eyes holding mine over the rim of his glass. “Yesterday.”

The shadow from our blowup hung between us; then we broke the silence simultaneously.

“Actually, there’s something?—”

“I have news?—”

Our laughter collided in the space between us, dissolving any traces of tension. We’d been in sync so many times over the past few days, like we’d had the same script. If only I’d trusted that connection yesterday.

“Tell me.” Ethan gestured with his glass, lips still curved from our shared moment. “What’s on your mind?”

My finger traced the delicate stem of my glass as I organized my thoughts. “I had a meeting this morning…”

Ethan leaned forward, eyebrows lifting with interest. “Good news?”

“Very good.” The excitement that had bubbled inside me all day threatened to spill over, jumbling my words. “The Library Association offered me a leadership position. They want to take what I started and further expand our banned books program across the country.”

His face transformed with genuine joy, eyes brightening as if the accomplishment were his own. “That’s incredible! Congratulations! Tell me everything.”

“Thanks.” His enthusiasm warmed me more than the wine. “But there’s something else…” My fingers tightened around the glass stem. “The position would be based in Seattle.” The words tumbled out before doubt could silence them.

Ethan froze, the wine glass suspended halfway to his mouth. Time seemed to slow down before he spoke. “Seattle? For real?”

“Yeah, starting in September. Some travel involved, but Seattle would be home base through at least May. The contract runs for a year, but in the summer they expect it to be more flexible on where I am.” Each subtle shift in his expression—the widening eyes, the parted lips—telegraphed the emotions he was experiencing.

He set his glass down with deliberate care, a look of surprise still on his face. “You’d be in Seattle. During the season?”

“If I accept.” Eye contact became both difficult and essential, vulnerability burning in my chest. “We’re still finding our footing, I know. But when Stella mentioned the location…” My throat tightened around the confession. “It felt like some cosmic sign we shouldn’t ignore.”

The smile that bloomed across his face reached deep into his eyes, creating those corner crinkles he got when he was happy and enthusiastic about something.

Two quick strides brought him around the island to my side.

“This is beyond amazing—professionally and…” His fingers threaded through mine, his palm warm against my hand. “Personally.”

“I’m glad you think so.” Electricity zinged through my veins, my heart hammering against my ribs.

“Absolutely I do.” His hand squeezed mine, his thumb tracing hypnotic circles across my knuckles. “Tell me more about it. It seems very out of the blue. And does this mean you’re getting the award?”

“Not really.” I took a drink since I was no longer nervous about his reaction.

“Stella’s on the judging committee for the Freedom to Read Award and when she read the packet on what we’d done here, she was impressed that our smaller library had done so much.

” Ethan beamed at me as he listened. “Beyond that, the efforts in helping other libraries who want to do something similar caught her attention. She wants me to come there and help the LAoA make it a replicable program for libraries of all sizes. As for the award, this has no bearing on that. It won’t be announced until August.”

“I’m so proud of you.” He kissed me again. “And to have you in Seattle so we can be in the same city to date and be a couple—as a superstitious hockey player, I very much believe it’s a sign.”

“Superstitious? You? I can’t picture that.”

“You haven’t seen my game prep. The things involved and the order matters.”

“I can’t wait to see.”

Ethan raised his glass. “Cheers. And congrats again.”

I clinked my glass to his and we both drank.

“So since we had our conversation about possibilities, the future is something I’ve been fixated on.”

My pulse stuttered. “How so?”

“Let me show you.”

I couldn’t imagine what Ethan had been doing to have something to show. He guided me toward the dining room, his hand warm around mine. Across the polished table stretched several sheets of paper taped together into one large document. There were several cut-out squares too.

As we approached, the aerial photographs of his property came into focus, overlaid with careful drawings and block letter annotations.

“After sorting through all the boxes, inspiration struck.” Uncertainty threaded through his voice. “Your camp idea has rolled around in my head endlessly.”

“This is…” Words failed as understanding dawned.

“Overstepping?” His fingers tightened around mine. “This was your project, after all.”

“God, no. The opposite—you’ve given hours to something that matters so much to me.” The renderings blurred as tears welled. “Tell me about this.”

Ethan’s hands danced across the drawings, enthusiasm building with each explanation. “The pond is perfect for summer activities—swimming, canoeing, maybe even fishing. If there’s actually fish in there. I’m not sure there is.”

His fingers raked through his hair, mussing it endearingly, dropping those adorable strands over his forehead.

“Here, cabins arranged in a semicircle create community. And this area”—his fingertip traced over careful lines—“becomes the center of it all: dining hall, performance space, gathering spot for everyone.”

Nothing had been overlooked. He’d marked trails winding through woods. There were nooks sketched in that were close enough to the buildings but far enough away for small group activities. Each element had been carefully considered and placed.

“And this?” My finger hovered over a wooded area marked only with gentle shading.

“Room to grow?” A self-deprecating shrug lifted his shoulders. “These are just starting points. Your youth program expertise combined with the sports connections Liam and I have plus the artists in town…” His voice trailed off as he studied my reaction, vulnerability naked in his expression.

Something cracked open inside my chest. Ethan had transformed my dream into a potential reality. More significantly, he’d placed himself within that vision, building it alongside me. “I can’t believe you did all this,” I said as emotion strangled my voice.

A shy smile curved his lips as his hand settled against the small of my back, warm and steadying.

I pivoted toward him, heart overflowing at the magnitude of his gesture. My hands rose to frame his face, drawing him to me until our lips met.

The kiss began as gratitude—a wordless thank you—but transformed into hunger as Ethan pulled me against his chest. His hands slid up my back while mine gripped his shoulders.

The blueprints of our potential future lay forgotten as we rediscovered each other.

The solid press of his body against mine filled me with contentment and longing for more of him.

When we separated, Ethan rested his forehead against mine. Vulnerability shimmered in his eyes, turning them the deepest of blue. “The plans meet with your approval, then?”

A soft laugh escaped me. “I love them. I love that you created them.” My fingers threaded through the hair at his nape, reveling in its softness. “That you recognized what this dream means to me and made it more concrete than it’s ever been.”

“We’ll build it together. Whether from Seattle or here, we can create something lasting.” His hands tightened at my waist, anchoring me to him.

The undisguised sincerity in his voice coupled with the security of his embrace sent waves of emotion crashing through me. “I want you… and that. Everything.”

His mouth claimed mine again. My hands slipped beneath the cotton to find warm skin, drawing a husky sound of pleasure from deep in his throat.

“There’s food waiting,” I murmured against his mouth, even as my fingers mapped the contours of his back, committing every plane to memory.

“Food reheats.” Ethan’s deft fingers were already working my shirt buttons free with focused intent. His breath caressed my neck, sending shivers cascading down my spine. “Unless immediate nourishment is required?”

I smiled against his lips. “This hunger is a different sort.”

He drew back just enough for our eyes to meet, his darkened with desire but illuminated by something deeper. “Upstairs?”

“Upstairs,” I agreed, following where he led, fingers laced tightly with his.