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He shoved his hands into his pockets and grabbed hold of the glass, trying to remind himself there was a reason she was here again. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks. I didn’t take it.”
He didn’t move, couldn’t even take a breath. “No?”
She shook her head, the long braid hanging over her left shoulder moving with the act, drawing his attention to her beautiful skin and the freckles on her shoulders.
“No.”
“What’s going on, Devon?”
“Oz, I hurt you and I’m sorry. I know it’s no excuse, but I had to find my own way a-and figure things out.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t,” she said, taking a step toward him before she stopped. “I thought I had everything I could ever want in New York, but after being here and going back there, I realized how empty it all was. But Ted aside, I knew if I moved back here, it had to be right.”
“I see. Maybe you should know I’ve been doing some thinking myself.”
“You have?”
He nodded. “I wasn’t willing to compromise ten years ago. I didn’t feel like I could leave my dad or my job. This place. But now that Dad’s doing better and I’m writing full-time… I can write anywhere. Including New York.”
“You’d do that?”
“If it means being able to spend time together, yes. Summers in New York, winters here. We’ll make it wor— Wait, did you say move back?”
She smiled the most beautiful smile and closed the distance between them. “Hold out your hand.”
He did as ordered, more than a little charmed by the effort she was putting into her apology.
He opened his hand, and she took it in one of hers, the other lifting to place a small bag of sand in his palm. Inside was a red heart-shaped piece of glass larger than the others he’d found.
Devon curled his fingers around the bag, his hands wrapped in hers.
“Mama had a point that day,” she whispered. “You’ve always loved me, and I was selfish and took that for granted. I’m sorry.”
“What does this mean, Devon?”
Another small smile drew his gaze to her lips.
“The tide has finally shifted. I’m home. And I’d like us to… well, I’d like us to start over, but I understand if you—”
Without warning, he drew her close and lowered his head for a kiss.
“Wait!”
“I don’t want to,” he grumbled, earning a sweet laugh.
“No, after everything I’ve put you through, I want to do this right.”
“Then hurry up, because I want to kiss you,” he grumbled. “And not have you running away afterwards.”
“Oscar Roman,” she said in a serious voice that belied the amusement and love he saw in her eyes, “would you do me the honor of dating me again?”
“Yes,” he said against her lips. “Now shut up and kiss me.”
