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My stomach growled even more. “It’s lasagna, isn’t it?”
His grin widened. “Your grandmother’s recipe. She gave me a whole box of handwritten ones.”
Tears burned my eyes, but they were happy tears. “I have a box of them, too.”
Jensen ushered me inside and I was hit with a wave of nostalgia at how familiar the house was. Everything was just as I remembered it from all those years ago when Jensen first bought it. The kitchen was small, but Jensen had it all updated with new stainless-steel appliances and granite countertops before he moved in. What I loved most about his house was the living room.
I moved past the kitchen to the wall of windows overlooking the sound. There was a giant oak tree in the middle of his backyard that was taller than any of the others around. And just past that was a long dock that went a little way out into the water, where a small white boat was tied up to the side.
“I love the sound of the waves crashing, but there’s something so serene about being on this side of the island. The water almost looks like glass out there.”
Jensen came up beside me. “I like it. You won’t believe this, but I saw four manatees by my dock about two years ago. I haven’t seen them since, though.”
“Oh, wow,” I gasped. Manatees have been known to travel in North Carolina, but seeing them was rare. “I wish I could’ve seen them.”
Jensen smiled over at me. “Maybe you will one day.” He left me to go into the kitchen, and I heard the oven beep as he turned it on. “We have about forty-five minutes until the lasagna’s done. Do you want me to open a bottle of wine? I promise I’m not trying to get you drunk.”
Laughing, I glanced at him over my shoulder and then turned to face him. “Wine sounds great.”
I joined him in the kitchen and leaned against the counter while watching him open a bottle of Pinot Noir. He poured us both a glass and I took a sip, loving the hint of cherries, raspberries, and strawberries on my tongue. The oven beeped once it got to temperature, so Jensen grabbed the lasagna from the refrigerator and put it in to cook. When he faced me, his gaze shifted to something on the counter.
“I have something that needs to go home with you.” I followed his line of sight to the glass dish sitting to the side. “That was your grandmother’s.”
Brows lifted, I turned my attention back to him. “And why do you have it?” I asked curiously.
He came over to me and set his wine glass down. “I doubt you know this, but she used to bake me her famous dark chocolate brownies every time I went out to sea.” He moved his focus to the glass dish. “They would always be waiting for me along with a welcome home note.”
Of course, my grandmother kept that a secret from me. But it didn’t surprise me one bit; she loved Jensen. A giggle escaped my lips, and I wiped the tear away that started to fall down my cheek. I hadn’t told Jensen about all the love letters I’d found.
Before I could mention it, he pulled out the drawer to his right and grabbed a folded piece of white paper. There was a sadness on his face when he handed it to me.
“This is the last one she wrote. It was written right before you and your grandmother were supposed to leave on your trip.”
My stomach clenched and I forced myself to hold back the swarm of tears I knew wanted to fall. Taking in a deep calming breath, I took the note from him and opened it up. I was no longer holding back the tears when I read my grandmother’s words.
Jensen,
Welcome home! I had to make your brownies a little early this time since I’ll be gone on vacation when you get back. Hopefully, they’ll still be good. If not, I’ll make you more when Everleigh and I get home. Maybe it’ll give you both a chance to talk? Eleven years of silence is just about ridiculous. I’m just sad you and Everleigh both inherited my stubbornness. Through hell or high water, I’m going to get you two in the same room again.
Love always,
Rachel
Closing my eyes,I held the note to my chest. “I can only imagine what she would’ve done to get us talking again.”
I turned to Jensen and he wiped away my tears with his thumbs. “Knowing her, she would’ve locked us in a room together and thrown away the key.”
That made me laugh. “I wouldn’t put it past her.” I handed him back the letter and he tucked it safely away in the drawer. “Speaking of keys, letters, and locks,” I said, moving into the living room with my glass of wine.
I sat on the brown leather couch and Jensen watched me curiously. “What are you talking about?” he asked, coming to sit next to me.
I drank the rest of my wine and set my glass on the coffee table. “Hide Away by the Sea has many secrets within its walls,” I stated plainly.
Jensen’s eyes widened. “How so?”
“Well,” I began, remembering how it hurt when my toe clipped the edge of the floorboard in my grandmother’s room. “I found a box of old love letters from a man who wasn’t my grandfather; they were dated a little while before she met him.”
Jensen’s mouth dropped. “Interesting. Do you know who that guy is?”
