Page 40 of Holding Ground

I sit up in bed. “Well, I don’t have much choice but to make it work.”

“Sure, that could be it. Or maybe you like this guy. Maybe you’re figuring out that you’re compatible.”

He’s completely delusional.

“Are you kidding me? This guy is all about stability, and I’m not sticking around. Besides, he doesn’t even like me half of the time.”

That used to be true. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel some kind of chemistry between us, but I’m pretty sure it’s just the physical kind. Not that we can act on it, though.

“Sounds like it could be a hot hookup for a couple of months.”

I chuckle. “Pretty sure that’s not his style.”

If it were, though, is that something I would be into? I’m not sure. Although that night he saved me was pretty hot.

“I’m sure you could convince him somehow.”

“I’m trying not to end up in bed with him, remember?”

He laughs.

“All right. On that note, I have to go. It’s a nice day, so I think I’m going to go out on the deck and work in the sunshine while I still can.”

“Enjoy. And listen, you know I’m here anytime you want to talk, right?”

“I know. Thanks, cuz.”

We hang up, and I flop back on the bed and stare at the ceiling, blowing out a breath. I hate that I have this feeling, this aching to know more about Tanya, the guilt that I’m not entitled to find out more. I had good parents. They loved me and raised me well. Why can’t that be enough?

I wish it were enough.

Because if I go down this road, it’ll hurt my parents when I inevitably have to talk to them about it. There’s no way around it.

The blood draw just brought to the surface what’s been brewing inside for a long time. And with every year that passes that I don’t do anything about it, the feeling becomes sharper, more cutting.

I roll off the bed and go to the closet, pull on a cardigan over my T-shirt, grab my laptop and my notes, and head outside onto the deck. Since it’s lunchtime, it’s warm, not hot, and the sun is high in the sky. If I took a picture, you could almost mistake the day for the middle of summer, but the temperature and the scent of the earth make it clear that autumn is almost upon us.

After I’m seated at the table and have my laptop set up in front of me, I take a moment to appreciate the view. Sun sparkles off the water, and evergreens stand tall and proud on the far side of the lake. The air is fresh, the area quiet and peaceful.

I’m not sure if it’s the view or talking to Trey, but I ache for home a little. But then the feeling of what it was like to not quite fit returns, and I remind myself why I left Sunrise Bay in the first place and why I’ve been bouncing around the country since. I still haven’t found a place where I feel like I fit.

I keep thinking that if I find out more about my mom, maybe all these feelings will settle. So I pull up Facebook and click on the name of the woman who left the comment, Lisa Barter, and type out a message to her.

CHAPTER

SIXTEEN

Elliott

Baylor runs from the truck to the house after I pick her up from school. She searches all the common rooms, and when there’s no sign of Emelia, she looks disappointed and retreats to play in her room.

I choose to ignore the pang of disappointment in my own chest that she’s not here. Emelia’s car is in the driveway, so I expected her to be here, but maybe she went on a walk or something.

Walking into the kitchen, I set the bag of food I picked up for tonight’s dinner on the counter by the sink. That’s when I hear her voice through the half-open kitchen window.

“I understand, sir, but the community needs some parameters in place, some reassurance that our goal is not to buy up properties around the lake—” She’s quiet, clearly listening to whatever the person on the other end of the line is saying. “I’m not sure that’s the best course of action.”

Silence again. I feel like an asshole for eavesdropping, but this is the future of my community, and any insight I can get into her plans is worth it.