We’ve settled into an easy routine, where Grafton spends most nights at our place, which the kids both genuinely love. Some nights, he stays at his apartment in the city when he has a meeting at an ungodly hour. Thefirst night he was gone, I was a mess, falling back into the old habits of doubt and despair, but it disappeared as fast as it came when Grafton video-called me, his eyes quietly knowing as he stayed on the call with me until I fell asleep.
It sometimes feels like he can read my mind, or that he at least knows my mind better than I do, giving me what I need before I even know I need it.
Our footsteps echo in the empty store, the chunky heels of my boots thudding against the scuffed hardwood floors.
Grafton tangles our hands together, squeezing me tightly, and I look up at him with a smile. “Thank you for coming today,” I murmur, and he cocks his head.
“Wouldn’t be anywhere else. Judith might complain about needing to rearrange my afternoon, but that’s why I pay her the big bucks.”
I chuckle. “According to her, she could stand for another pay raise.”
He purses his lips, his eyes playful. “Not sure I like the two of you conspiring with each other.”
I lift a shoulder, giving him a coquettish smile just as the door opens behind us.
We turn to face the real estate agent as she comes in, looking flustered. Marjorie stops in the middle of the room, straightening her burnt-orange blazer. “Sorry about that! Someone wants to organize a viewing this afternoon.” She gives us a self-deprecating smile. “I’m usually only in charge of residential properties, but Henry asked me to handle his portfolio while his wife is having surgery.”
My mouth drops open. “Oh. I hope she’s okay.”
Marjorie takes a breath, visibly steadying herself. “Tanya is fine. She had to have her gallbladder removed, and they have two teenagers. Henry has been going between home and the hospital in Ashland, trying to keepeverything in order.” She swivels, taking in the empty store, shifting gears back into realtor mode. “Now, I know the owner originally wanted to offer this space out on a long-term lease, but he’s changed his mind and decided selling is his best option.”
Grafton frowns quizzically. “Is there a reason for that?”
“I believe he wants to move out of town, and would prefer to cut all ties.” Marjorie wrinkles her nose. “Unfortunately, it’s not a seller’s market, so it hasn’t happened as quickly as he would’ve liked.” She clasps her hands in front of her, turning to face us with an expectant shine to her eyes.
Grafton looks down at me, his arm brushing my shoulder. “What do you think, darling? The space needs to be perfect for your vision.” He uses his other hand to gesture around us. “Can you see your boutique here?”
I lick dry lips, not saying a word as I gaze around. The shop isn’t massive, and there’s work to be done to get it back in good shape. The floor creaks under our weight as we move, and I can see deep grooves etched into the wood where furniture has been carelessly dragged against the floor. The off-white walls have areas of discoloration where artwork and shelves once stood. The afternoon sun is pouring in through the high windows, and I can see dust motes floating through the air in front of me. But, looking around, all I feel is hope.
I do a slow spin, imagining the different kinds of shelving and displays I’d need—something mismatched and uneven, with a flea market feel. I could scatter them around the room, each one intended to hold something different. In the brightest corner, I’d put the clothing racks, along with a few antique mirrors nearby for people to seethe clothing, but also to catch the light and make the space seem even bigger.
It would be perfect in the most unpolished way, showcasing a space where nothing matches and yet everything somehow belongs.
I look up, locking eyes with Grafton. “It’s perfect,” I breathe. “Just what I imagined.” He sees the hesitancy still in my eyes, his heavy brows rising in silent question. “I don’t know,” I admit. “It feels like it’s too soon. If I buy this place now, what if everything else falls apart? I don’t have my degree?—”
“Yet,” he cuts in.
I shake my head. “I don’t have a plan or anything. It’s just…” I sigh, looking around again, appreciating the way Marjorie has backed up a step to give us the illusion of space. “What if it all goes wrong? What then?”
Grafton lets my hand go, hooking an arm around my neck and dragging me into his body. His musky cologne fills my lungs, centering me, and I go limp against him. “You have a name,” he counters softly. “That feels like more than most people start with. And you only need fifteen more credits to get your degree?—”
“And only because you greased the dean’s palm,” I grumble, the issue still a point of contention between us. But Grafton doesn’t look even an ounce remorseful.
“And because you’re able to do the degree completion course, you’ll be studying from home,” he says unnecessarily. “You can spend any spare time you have getting this place ready.” He presses two fingers to my chin, lifting my head. “With help, of course.” His eyes are sincere and intense, and my heart flutters in my chest like a baby bird. “There’s no rush, Lynne. You know I’ve got your back while you figure it all out. You’re not alone in this.” Heleans down, his nose brushing against mine. “Not anymore.”
Tears fill my eyes. I blink them as Marjorie clears her throat, dragging our attention to her. “Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt, but”—she gives me a small smile—“Lynley, Henry told me about your plans for this space. And I think you’re exactly what Sterling Creek needs. We don’t have anything like what you’re planning.”
I give her a tremulous smile. “I’m a little worried that no one will be interested in partnering with me. I haven’t been in Sterling Creek for all that long, so people don’t know me.”
Grafton’s phone rings, and he checks it, frowning at the screen before turning to me. “I have to take this. I’ll be right back.”
“Okay.” I watch as he walks away before turning back to Marjorie, finding her still watching me.
“I’m a transplant too,” she confides. “My husband and I moved here from San Francisco thirty years ago. He grew up not far from here with his aunt and uncle, and all he ever wanted was to raise our children the same way.”
My smile is genuine when it comes. “I wanted the same for my children, and I see the way they’ve blossomed here, even if it has taken more bumps in the road than I was expecting.” I inhale slowly, letting the tension ease out of my shoulders when I let the breath go. “They’re happier. Lighter. And I love that I was able to give them this.”
Marjorie’s eyes are full of understanding. “They renew us, don’t they? Our children. It’s like seeing the world for the first time again, remembering how it used to be when we were innocent and unaware.”
