Page 126 of The Accidental Innkeeper

If nothing was tying me down… Why wasn’t I there?

I leaned forward, my forearms on my knees again, grounding myself in the posture. “I didn’t leave because of someone else.”

New York didn’t look relieved. She looked more confused.

“I left because I thought I was doing the right thing,” I continued. “And because I don’t have a great track record with… staying.”

That got her attention.

She tilted her head, studying me now the way she did the inn when something wasn’t quite lining up. “That’s not an answer.”

I nodded once. Fair.

“I didn’t trust myself to stay halfway,” I said carefully. “And I didn’t think you deserved halfway.”

There it was—the truth I’d been circling for days.

She didn’t interrupt. She just watched me, her eyes sharp, taking it in.

I shifted my weight. “I don’t start things I can’t see through. And with you… I knew if I stayed, it wouldn’t be casual. It wouldn’t be temporary. And I didn’t think I had the right to step into your life unless I could do it properly.” I paused and then added the part I hadn’t said out loud yet. “So I decided for you.”

Her jaw tightened, and those beautiful cheeks of hers darkened. And, yeah—there it was. The part I deserved. Here it comes…

New York leaned back slightly, her arms crossing. “You don’t get to do that. I’m a grown-ass woman. I can make up my own mind.”

“I know,” I said.

The silence stretched between us, heavy but not hostile. I could feel it shifting, like something unstable finally settling into place.

I watched her breathe. Watched her think. And for the first time since she’d walked in, I wasn’t trying to manage the outcome.

She studied me for a long second, like she was recalibrating. Like she’d come here ready for a fight and instead found… clarity. Or at least something close to it.

“So now what?” she asked finally. “You’re staying.”

It wasn’t a question, not really. It was a line drawn in the sand.

I didn’t dodge it. “Yes.”

Her eyes flickered, searching my face for hesitation. She wouldn’t find any.

“If you want me to,” I added. “I’m not assuming. I’m not deciding for you again. But, yes. I want to stay. I want to be here with you.”

Her throat worked as she swallowed. “You don’t get to say that lightly.”

“I’m not,” I said. “I don’t do light.”

That got a breathy laugh out of her, short and disbelieving. “God, you’re exhausting.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “I’ve been told.”

“You’d be a great character in my next book,” she said. “The Exasperator. Six-foot-something. Good jawline. Ruins lives.” She shook her head, smiling even as she sighed. “You know I didn’t come here for a grand declaration.”

I exhaled through my nose, my jaw locking. “I know. You came to tell me off.”

She cocked her head to the side. “I was very prepared. I had points.”

I nodded, watching her closely. “I figured. You look like someone who rehearsed in the car.”