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I didn’t even feel the need to insert my own familial anecdotes. It was rare for him to share things with me. There was work of course, and I’d seen him in his element at the orchard, but he was different. He felt different.

“I told my ma about you.”

I turned in his arms, my heart racing. “You what?”

“I did. She knew it even before I opened my bleedin’ mouth. We spoke of you and all the feelings you churned up inside of me. The way I’d distanced myself from everyone to focus on work. She even poked a few wounds I didn’t want to face.”

I had so many questions, but what I saw when I twisted again to look into his eyes made everything go still inside me. “Another woman.”

He nodded slowly. “Quite a while ago. There hasn’t been anyone for me in so long that she kind of became this festering scab that never quite healed. I can’t say I was a total monk, but in my line of work, it was probably pretty close.”

I touched his chin. The hair there was nearing a beard. “Did you love her?”

“It was young love, but felt real enough to me. Obviously, she didn’t feel the same since she cheated on me.”

“Oh, God.”

“With my best mate.”

“That fucking whore.”

“Whoa.” He laughed and linked his hands at my lower back. “There’s my ginger fairy queen.”

“There’s no excuse for cheating. Ever. Fucking man up and break things off, but to do that—God, I can’t.”

He laughed and kissed me at the same time. The kiss was as sweet and wild as the breakers behind us. It had the potential for more, but he seemed to pull himself back as if he wanted to keep the moment light and soft.

I gripped his shirt, the simple vee of it stretching with my touch. I frowned as black ink peeked out of the place where whorls of hair used to be. “Did you get a tattoo?”

His neck flushed and his cheeks reddened. “Maybe.”

I pulled until the words came clear. “You don’t have any ink.”

“I didn’t used to have a fiery redhead in my life either. Things change.”

I traced my fingers over the words.

Tomorrow I’ll be on a plane

Gone far away

A lock of flame in my pocket

The words I couldn’t say

The song he’d written and sang to me in the clearing at Happy Acres. The words were heavier now that I knew his truth. And that he’d come back for me even though he’d practically dared the worst to happen between us by ignoring my call.

So much made sense now. To lose your girl and your best friend was a lot for anyone. I looked up at him and his eyes softened.

“Don’t cry for me, Ivy Rose.”

I dashed at the tears. “I blame the baby. I’ve never cried so much in my life as I have since this little bit of news.”

“Scary news for sure, but good.”

My eyes stung again. “Yeah?”

“Maybe a bit out of order with how I’d figured things would go. And boy, is my mum going to flip. She’s excited to meet you simply for the fact that you brought her boy home. Her words, not mine. Now? Well, let’s just say the good graces train is covered with hearts and flowers.”

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