Page 56 of In Every Chapter

“I can’t place a memory; it’s more a sense of déjà vu. It’s a haze, but it feels familiar.” Nice, even.

He smiled at me in the dark, his face a soft glow in the light of the cab. “Yeah, we do this a lot.”

“And we really came back here while we were dating?” I wrinkled my nose. “Sounds like a mood killer.”

He chuckled. “Oh, it was. But it was important to you for me to understand the past. You were married after all.” He sobered. “Jared will always be a part of your story. But you healed, Pais. I’ve seen just how much you’ve grown since the woman he shrunk you into.” Lifting his hand slowly, he chucked my chin with his knuckle. “And you’re pretty dang amazing.”

Fresh tears stung my eyes at the kind words. Seriously, hadn’t I cried enough today? I still felt like this was just a bad nightmare and I kept waiting to wake up. I sniffed. This amnesia left me on the outside of an inside joke where everyone knew the punch line except me. Or like I didn’t get the script and had to improvise.

I just wanted to remember.

Greyson’s hand shifted over the bench seat until our fingers brushed on top of the blanket. Slowly, his pinky linked over mine, and we sat there in the darkness.

And now I was full-on crying. From all respects, I should have scared Greyson away by now, but he was still here. He was just . . . here. With me.

Waiting and hoping. With a pinky promise.

And somehow, that was enough.

Chapter twenty-three

Greyson

Graveyard visiting wasn’t on my bingo card for a romantic-summer-evening date to help me win my wife back. But despite the tears, Paisley was calmer, more subdued after seeing the idiot’s final resting place. She hadn’t attended the funeral after all.

The world was pretty dead at four in the morning, and it was a seven-hour drive back to Serenity Springs, plus a time zone change. I could make it, but Paisley was sagging against the window, and I had no doubt her head was probably throbbing.

I pulled off the main highway and into the parking lot of a small hotel, blinking Vacancy. It wasn’t a bad place as hotel chains go—not luxury, but enough to give us a few hours of sleep without too much concern.

“What are we doing?” Paisley slurred from the passenger seat.

I had to smile. I would never get tired of how this adorable woman made my heart skip a beat, even when half asleep. “Grabbing a room for the night. We could use a bit of shut-eye.”

She blinked at me owlishly behind her frames, then nodded and climbed out of the truck. I grabbed our overnight bags and followed her into the lobby. She swayed beside me at the front desk as the teller handed me a key card.

We padded silently down the zebra-striped sepia carpeting to room 112. Paisley yawned, waiting while the card took three swipes to unlock the door.

The room was clean and reminiscent of the ’70s, with its ten shades of brown and harvest-yellow décor. There was only a queen bed and a small couch, which didn’t appear to be a pullout.

“You can take the bed. I’ll take the couch,” I said, setting our bags down on the low coffee table.

Paisley eyed me lazily from head to toe, her gaze heating my blood. It would have been a coy look if she hadn’t been so sleepy. And if she still thought of you like that. “Good luck with that. It was built for Munchkinland-sized humans, not a Greek Adonis,” she muttered.

Something in me swelled with the praise, though I doubt she meant it as a compliment. “I’ve slept on worse.”

Her pert nose scrunched in disgust. “Don’t joke about that. There’s a bed, we’re adults, and . . . You know what, I’m too tired to argue with you. Do what you want. Just don’t complain about your bad back tomorrow, old man.” She snatched up a toiletries bag and stumbled into the bathroom.

Only once the door clicked did I allow myself to chuckle softly. This snarky version of Paisley was more what I was used to. I changed into pajama pants and tugged on a T-shirt. No sense scandalizing her. Although, it might work to my advantage someday, but not tonight. She was right. We were adults who could share a bed. We were married.

After Paisley finished in the washroom, I took my turn, brushing my teeth and slapping cold water on my face. She was already curled under the scratchy sheets, nose scrunched like she was trying not to think about how rarely hotel coverlets were washed. I slipped under the covers on my side.

“Grey?” Paisley’s voice was raw and small.

“Yeah, love?”

“Thanks for tonight. Well, this morning now. Most guys wouldn’t have done that.”

She was right. But I was determined to win her heart again, and if this was what it took, I’d do it again tomorrow. “Anytime.” I tucked my arm under my head and clicked off the lamp, plunging us into darkness, except for the light switch at the door glowing as a soft night-light.