The afternoon nurse was late, and my father wasn’t happy. Alex Sorenson was a schedule man, always had his day planned out to the minute, and didn’t tolerate tardiness in anyone. To him, being on time meant being late. I looked up from my book when I heard him sigh impatiently.

“Do you want me to go and see if there’s a problem or something?” I asked because my father also liked action. If there was a problem, he didn’t stand around waiting for someone to help. I knew it was killing him that he couldn’t just get out of bed, march down to the nurse’s station himself, and give them a dressing down over their tardiness.

“No, Cami. She’s only ten minutes late with my medication. I’m not her only patient,” he replied. Cancer was teaching my dad patience.

“Okay,” I responded with a quirk of my brow.

“Isn’t Palmer’s party tonight?”

“Shoot.” I looked at my watch. If I didn’t leave right away, I wouldn’t make it home in time to get ready. After eight years enlisted in the Army, my best friend was finally coming home for good. “It is. I’m sorry, Daddy, but I have to go.”

“Don’t worry about it. Tell him I’m glad he’s home.”

I quickly packed my stuff and hurried over to my father. Leaning across the bed, I kissed his cheek. I whispered my love in his ear and then left.

On my way to the elevator, I stopped at the nurses’ station. A middle-aged woman with a perma-frown stared up at me with tired eyes.

“Hi,” I said, giving her my best smile. “My dad is in room 121. The nurse hasn’t come by with his medication, and he’s getting a little antsy.”

“Okay, I’ll take care of it,” she replied without the enthusiasm that assured me she would handle this issue.

“Listen, I know you’re busy and tired. I get it. But my dad has a thing about being punctual. This disease has taken everything from him, including some of his dignity. Could you just make sure the nurses are on time? He’s too proud to say anything himself.”

The nurse rolled her eyes, but at least, I had said my piece. Cancer is a bitch; it forced my dad to take an unplanned hiatus. As his daughter, the least I could do was advocate on his behalf.

“Thank you,” I said sweetly when the nurse just kept staring at me with an expectant look in her eye. I quickly walked away before my mouth got me into trouble. My sister, Valerie, was the even-tempered, logical daughter, and I was the emotional train wreck with my heart permanently affixed to my sleeve.

Two years ago, I moved out of the luxury condo that I owned in a slick downtown Seattle high-rise to move back to Gig Harbor and help Valerie take care of our father. And despite being two grown adults, we both lived in the house where we grew up—a sprawling white brick rambler right on Wollochet Bay.

When I got home, Valerie was finishing getting dressed. I glanced down at the watch on my wrist and frowned. There wasn’t much time, but if I rushed and Valerie helped, I could make it.

“How is he?” she asked me when she realized I was home.

I stripped out of my clothes and tossed them in the laundry basket. “Antsy,” I answered, walking into the bathroom and turning on the shower full blast. “The nurse was late with his medicine.”

“I bet he hated that,” Valerie commented as I stepped under the spray. “Hurry up. I told Mrs. Grayson that we would help out before everyone gets there.”

I rolled my eyes and groaned silently. Lucinda Grayson, my best friend Palmer’s mother, was an overbearing woman, which only worsened when Dad got sick. Even though Valerie and I were adults, she took it upon herself to act as a surrogate mother. She provided us with a constant and almost unnecessary stream of food. However, my love for Palmer outweighed any annoyance I felt toward his mother and her overbearing behavior because secretly, it felt good to have a mother again. But tonight was all about Palmer and celebrating his achievements. It felt good to smile again and to be excited about something.

I finished my shower quickly and stepped out, wrapping myself in a fluffy towel. I padded through my bedroom to the giant walk-in closet that dominated one end. I started rifling through my clothes, searching for the perfect outfit. Even though I had rarely seen Palmer since he traded high school for boot camp, I wanted to look nice. There was also the chance that Palmer would have some friends from his unit traveling with him. He frequently mentioned his best friends Jackson and Garrett, and selfishly, I hoped they would be joining him. I knew practically every guy in Gig Harbor, and none of them piqued my curiosity in the slightest.

Valerie saved me when she pushed me out of the way and started rummaging through my clothes. I gave her outfit a once-over; she was gorgeous in a body-hugging, striped red and white dress and blue chambray shirt that she knotted underneath her chest.

“Wear this,” she commanded, handing me a sheer navy blue blouse with white polka dots. Then she handed me a pair of white shorts that were just a tad too short. “And these too.” Hesitantly, I accepted them from her.

Valerie had impeccable taste, so I didn’t question her choices. Truthfully, if I spent any more time in my closet, I’d arrive at Palmer’s party in an oversized T-shirt and leggings. Despite Valerie’s warning from earlier that we had to leave soon, I took my time getting ready. I dried and tamed my wild curls into big, bouncy waves and slathered my body in my favorite jasmine-scented lotion.

“Getting all dressed up to welcome home your man from the war,” Valerie teased.

“Hardly. Besides, you picked my outfit.” I scoffed. “And Palmer certainly isn’t my man.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Cami. You and Palmer are destined to marry each other.”

Practically everyone we knew felt the same way; they believed Palmer and I were destined to be together forever. I was fairly certain that his mother had our entire wedding planned out, which was a terrifying idea. Palmer was handsome, smart, and about to take over a fairly successful company; he was the total package. But when I thought about him romantically, there was no magic, no spark, no flame. I didn’t see him as anything beyond my best friend, the kid I went clam digging with during every Christmas break.

“Palmer can’t offer what I want.”

“And what’s that?”

I shrugged my shoulders. Palmer’s return was permanent, and I knew he’d want to settle into his new career working alongside his father and his new life. But I didn’t want to remain in Gig Harbor for the rest of my life, and Palmer was a small town kind of guy. I wanted someone who could offer me a world beyond this small town by the bay. But if I told her all of that, my honesty might feel like a slap in the face to her. Valerie hadn’t left Gig Harbor, and she probably never would. Her fiancé, Dominic, was stationed at Fort Lewis and was also a Tacoma native. I held my wanderlust in check for both of our sakes.

“Never mind, Val,” I said, with a final swipe of red lipstick. “Let’s just go and have a good time, okay?”

I loaded Val’s car with the cupcakes I had baked at Lucinda’s request. Baking was my religion, my Zen, my everything. I visually inspected each box as I placed them in the car. They all looked amazing with their patriotic colors and decorations. When we arrived at the Graysons’, Lucinda put Valerie and me right to work. It was hard to escape the long looks and knowing winks she sent my way. Or the fact that she just happened to hum the wedding march every time she passed me.

Jesus, take the wheel, I thought to myself as I arranged the cupcakes on a table.

I heard loud voices coming from the front of the house and knew that Palmer and his friends must have finally made their appearance at the party. I set one last cupcake down on a stand and walked over to the doorway where I could get my first glimpse. Instead of seeing Palmer, my eyes were drawn to a tall, handsome stranger with dark hair and a hint of beard covering his cheeks. He was so breathtaking that butterflies sprang to life inside my belly.

“Cami!” I felt like I’d been caught doing something naughty. I turned to face Lucinda, who had more jobs for me to complete.