On Kylie’s first day back to work, Joe walked into Reclaimed Woods to find Gib at the front counter. The guy looked up from his computer, expression carefully blank.

“Problem?” Joe asked.

“I like the guys you work with,” Gib said. “Archer. Lucas. Reyes and the others. I like your good friend Spence too, and Caleb, because he just spent a fortune on some of my stuff. I’m also fond of your sister. Molly’s good people. Really good.”

Joe wasn’t sure where this was going, but he nodded. He liked all of those people too.

“But I’ve never liked you,” Gib said.

Joe felt a rough laugh leave him. “Yeah, well, that’s not exactly new information.”

Gib didn’t smile. “I’m going to trust that everyone knows something about you I don’t, that you’re a good guy.”

What was he supposed to say to that?

“You going to take good care of her,” Gib said.

Joe nodded. “I am.”

Gib went back to his computer screen.

And thus, apparently temporarily vetted, Joe headed through to the back. He found Kylie in a huge apron, covered in sawdust, large protective goggles on her face. She was bent over a saw, milling something that was sending sparks and more sawdust into the air that circled her like a puffy cloud as she worked with great concentration.

Afraid to startle her, he stood there and watched a moment, marveling at how just laying eyes on her warmed his heart and eased his soul. He’d grown soft, he realized, by allowing her in. But there was no going back for him. He’d rather suffer the weakness of loving her and having her in his life than reverting to his empty life before her.

He was just damn lucky—and grateful—that she seemed to feel the same way, that she’d been willing to fight him, fight for him. He waited until she stopped, turned off the saw, and eyed whatever she was working on before moving closer.

She whipped around, and at the sight of him, sent a brilliant smile in his direction, at once making his day, his week, his month, his entire life.

“Hey,” she said. She tossed off the goggles and threw herself at him.

He caught her up and lowered his head, finding her lips with his, trying to promise everything he didn’t have words for.

“Mmm,” she said when the kiss ended, leaving her eyes closed, her mouth curving. “Missed that.”

He’d left her bed six hours earlier and he was quite certain he’d kissed her thoroughly then too. Every inch of her. “I’ve got something for you,” he said.

Her eyes flew open as he carefully lowered her back to the ground. Her leg was healing up just fine, but it still bothered her some and he could tell by the slight tremor in her body that she’d pushed herself too far today. “Sit.”

“Gimme,” she said. “One of Tina’s muffins?” she asked hopefully.

“Something even better. Sit first.”

She rolled her eyes but sat on a stool.

He pulled her beloved penguin from his pocket.

Her mouth curved in a little oh! of surprise as she held out her hands for it. “It didn’t burn,” she breathed, hugging it to her chest.

“There wasn’t a lot that made it out,” he said, “but several of your grandpa’s pieces actually did. It was all being held as evidence until today.”

She looked up, her eyes meeting his. “There’s more,” she guessed.

He reached into another pocket and pulled out a second small wooden carving. Another penguin, the mirror image of the one she held.

She gasped. “Ohmigod, there are two? This one was on the boat too?”

“No.”

She looked up. “Then where?”

“A while back you told me you thought maybe there might be more carvings, so I did some digging and tracked it down.”

She looked boggled. “What? How?”

“Your mom had your grandpa’s files, or what was left of them, and I went through them. I found a bill of sale from years ago and contacted the buyer, who was actually an ex of your grandpa’s. He’d given her the penguin and she still had it. She said it was a memory keeper. When I told her your story, she changed her mind. She wanted you to have it more than she wanted to keep it.” He shrugged. “So she sold it to me.”

Kylie was staring at him, very still. “It had to be insanely expensive.”

He shrugged again.

“Joe.”

He stroked a finger over the curve of her ear, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her it. Because he didn’t want to stop touching her, he let his fingers slip into her wild waves of hair. “I wanted you to have it.”

Her eyes went a little shimmery with unshed tears. “But—”

He put a finger over her lips. “I wanted to.”

She was silent a moment, like she was so moved she couldn’t speak. “No one’s done anything like that for me,” she finally whispered and blinked the tears away. “Thank you.”

He took the two penguins and showed her how they went together like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. They’d been made as two halves of a whole.

“They fit,” she said, marveling.

“They do,” he agreed and met her gaze. “And so do we, Kylie.”

She shook her head, reaching for him. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

“I don’t,” he said, lifting her up against him again, closing his eyes, loving the feel of her in his arms. “Maybe you should tell me, slowly and in great detail.”

She took him home and did just that.