“Sure. I’m off tomorrow, but I’m not sure yet what the day looks like with Asher and everything.”

“No problem. Just let me know. There’s . . . something I wanted to ask you.”

“You mentioned that earlier.” I tried unsuccessfully to fight off a yawn. “What is it you want to talk about?”

“I’ll tell you tomorrow,” she said quickly. “I know you’re exhausted. I am too. Thanks for putting out my fire tonight.”

“That’s my job, Sawyer.”

“You do it well.”

I smiled. “Night.”

“Night.”

I plugged my phone into the charger and lay back in my old bed, thinking that if I could go back in time and tell sixteen-year-old Noah what would happen between him and Meg one day, he probably wouldn’t believe it.

I could hardly believe it now. I’d gone from talking to her once every few weeks or even months to feeling as if I was addicted to her. It was a damn good thing she wasn’t going to be around much longer.

Addiction was a dangerous disease.

Twenty-Two

Meg

Friday morning, I slept in a little. By the time I got downstairs, the table was empty and the breakfast dishes were piled in the sink. To help my mom out, I loaded the dishwasher, swept the crumbs from the floor, and wiped off the counters.

Afterward, I sat at the table with my laptop and a cup of coffee. I was sifting through my inbox when Sylvia came in the back door with her kids, all of them carrying shopping bags.

“Hi,” I said. “Did you guys hit the mall this morning?”

“We did. The kids needed some things for the rehearsal dinner. I don’t know what I was thinking, letting them pack for themselves. Take those bags up to your rooms, you guys,” Sylvia directed them. “Keaton, take the shirt out and hang it up. And don’t leave the tie all balled up in there either.”

The kids obeyed, heading for the stairs while Sylvia put another coffee pod in the Keurig. Her face looked drawn and a little blotchy.

“You okay?” I asked.

“He didn’t come.” Sylvia stared at the machine as she spoke. “Brett. He didn’t get on the plane.”

It clicked—her husband had been scheduled to take the red-eye from California last night. “He missed his flight?”

“He claims he was tied up at work.” She shook her head. “I think he’s lying. He doesn’t want to come.”

I swallowed, unsure of what to say. “I’m sorry.”

“He says he’ll get on a flight sometime today or tomorrow morning and be here in time for the wedding.” She took her mug from the machine and turned around, leaning back against the counter. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“I’m sure he’ll be here,” I told her, although I wasn’t sure at all. I’d never known Brett all that well.

“We’ll see.” She sipped her coffee. “What are you up to today? Working?”

“Yeah.” I frowned at my laptop and closed it. “But I’m distracted.”

“Can’t imagine why.” Her eyes hinted at a smile. “Have you talked to Noah yet?”

“No.” I checked the clock on the kitchen wall. It was just after noon. “He’s been with Asher, and I don’t want to bother him. But I suppose I should reach out. If I’m going to talk to him today before all the rehearsal stuff starts, it has to be this afternoon. What time do we have to be ready?”

“Mom said five o’clock in the lobby. She’s all stressed because the inn is so busy today. All the out of town wedding guests are checking in.”

I winced. “I should offer to help, shouldn’t I?”

“No. I’ll help her. It will keep my mind off my imploding marriage. You go talk to Noah.”

“Okay. I’m sorry, Sylvia.” I bit my lip. “I want there to be something I can do or say to make you feel better.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She finished her coffee and put the cup in the dishwasher. “Who knows? Maybe he’ll show up.”

“I hope so.” I stood up and stuck my laptop back in its travel case. “I’ll see you later.”

Upstairs in my room, I texted him.

Me: Hey you. How’s your day going?

He didn’t reply right away, so I brushed my teeth, threw on some leggings and a tank, and pulled on my running shoes. I was tying them when he finally texted back.

Noah: Hi, beautiful. All good. Took Asher to work and now hanging out with my little nephew while my mom runs errands for Nina and Chris.

I bit my lip. He had his nephew this afternoon, which was sweet but not very conducive to a heart-to-heart talk.

Me: Aww. Uncle Noah. What are you guys up to?

Noah: We’re at the park. Want to meet us?

Me: I’d love to. I just got dressed for a run, so that’s perfect. I’ll meet you there in 20.

After zipping over to the inn, where I found my dad hiding from my mother in his office, I made sure it was okay to borrow his car, grabbed his key, and headed for the park. When I arrived, I saw Noah, his nephew, and Renzo right away. As I walked toward them, I put my hand over my mouth and giggled.

Noah was sitting at the top of the slide, looking huge and uncomfortable, with a grinning tow-headed toddler on his lap. “Ready?” he said. “One, two, three.” On three, he pushed off and slid down to the bottom, where Renzo waited with his tail wagging. Fucking adorable.

“Hi, guys,” I called.

Noah got to his feet, setting his nephew on his forearm. The little boy promptly put his head on Noah’s shoulder as I approached. My heart was a puddle.

“Hey,” he said, giving me a quick kiss on the lips.

My stomach fluttered. Even in a cap, faded gray henley and jeans, he was sexy. “You’re a little big for that slide, officer,” I teased.

“Tell me about it. But he loves it. Don’t you, buddy?” Noah poked his nephew in the belly a few times, making him laugh.

I smiled. “What’s his name?”

“Ethan.”

“Hi, Ethan.”

Noah bounced him up and down on his arm. “Say hi.”

Ethan smiled shyly and stuck his fingers in his mouth.

“No.” Noah swatted them out. “Your hands are dirty. Come on, you want to go on the swing?”

Ethan looked toward the swings and pointed.

“Yep, right over there. One more time, and then it’s nap time for you.” He started walking toward the swings, Renzo at his heels. “You said you wanted to talk to me about something. What’s up?”

I followed him, nerve endings twitching beneath my skin. I hadn’t exactly planned out what I would say. How should I even start? “Yes. Um, I wanted to get your thoughts on something.”

He set Ethan in the toddler swing and moved behind him, setting the swing in motion. “Can you be more specific, Sawyer?”

I laughed nervously, wringing my hands together at my waist. “Yeah, sorry. So I was thinking about . . . I’ve been thinking that I’m really glad I came home for the entire week.”