Written in the Sand by D.B. James (10)

Of course, my dreams ended up being filled with Case. He was the last thing on my mind as I drifted off to sleep and the first thing on my mind as I awoke this morning.

Am I being unfaithful in a way toward Michael? As strange as it sounds, is it wrong for me to be thinking about another man? Because, dammit, I do think about Case. All the time. Admitting it to myself is frickin’ hard. But it’s the cold hard truth. It’s about time I start facing it, no more hiding in the corner. I should be embracing this new feeling instead of pushing it away.

Turning over, I see the sun shining its brilliant light through the blinds. I must’ve slept later than I thought or it could be earlier than I think it is. Grabbing my phone, I see the latter is correct. It’s barely after 8 a.m. Knowing myself, I won’t get any more sleep. I get out of bed and decide to take the bubble bath I never truly found the time to take last night.

My phone rings on the bedside stand where I left it, causing me to nearly jump out of my skin. Grabbing it, I swipe to answer before seeing who’s calling, I regret it instantly.

“Morning, sunshine,” chirps Savannah from the opposite end.

Holding a hand to my heart, trying to calm it, I take a moment to answer her.

“It’s shortly after 8, I didn’t mean to wake you,” she says before I can reply.

“Oh, you didn’t wake me. I’m sorry, but I did just wake up a few minutes ago. Actually, I was collecting myself before answering you. The ringing of the phone scared the shit out of me,” I confess.

“Well, good, you deserve it. You scared me because I didn’t hear from you after you ate dinner last evening. Heck, I wasn’t sure you made it to Austin. Consider my calling you and scaring you payback for doing the same to me. Karma and shit.”

“I’m sorry. When I stopped for dinner, I had an, um…scare. A police officer approached me and warned me of a citywide curfew. He may have told me to avoid hitchhikers in the area. Naturally, I freaked and didn’t stop the rest of the way here,” I confess.

She’s laughing now. It is sort of funny though in hindsight I’m sure if the roles were reversed and I were in her shoes, I’d be laughing. I lie down on the bed with the phone on speaker and join her in laughter. It’s a solid five minutes before either of us says another word.

“How’d you sleep?” she questions.

“Like the dead.” Cripes, horrible description. “I did dream of Case though. Mainly because the idiot told me to in a text before I fell asleep. It was literally his last words to me. Of course, I’d dream about him. Ugh, it’s frustrating. He’s occupying way too much of my time already. But I did admit to myself last night it’s time to move forward. See where this thing with him goes,” I state.

“You did!” she exclaims. “Did you tell him? Tell me everything, I must know,” she begs.

Sighing, I resign to telling her. Admitting it to myself—and Case—was much easier. I wonder why?

“It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while now actually. The rest of the drive here after dinner gave me a ton of time for thinking. And Dr. Beesley’s words didn’t hurt either. She’s encouraged me to pursue more with Case. If not with him, then with someone else. She’s convinced me it’s what Michael would want. Add in his last letter and I finally believe it’s what he’d want for me.”

“Sounds like what we’ve all been thinking but have been too scared to say. Dr. Beesley knows her shit,” Van says.

“Mm hm,” I hum back.

“Okay, I’ve taken up enough of your time. Fill me in on the rest of the details later. Go get ready for the day and spend it all with Case. I’m proud of you, Lee.”

“Okay, sounds great. Thank you, Van.”

Hanging up, I place the phone back on the bedside table and proceed into the bathroom. Turning on the water, the tub begins to fill while I take care of other personal issues. After my teeth are fully clean and the bath is near bursting, I slide into the steamy water.

Bliss.

Complete and utter bliss.

The next twenty minutes are spent soaking in the bubbles until the water starts to chill. Standing, I pull the plug and turn on the shower to rinse off and wash my tresses. I wonder what Case will think of the shorter cut? Having stopped in to the salon again last week, I had Monica take some more length off.

Flinging open my suitcase, I inspect the few clothes I brought along. After debating for a few minutes, I decide to wear the shirt Michael had made from my wedding dress. It’s beautiful with its satin covered buttons lining the back, its off the shoulder look covered by lace. Looks country, but classy and I’ve yet to wear it. It fits perfectly as I knew it would. Not knowing if we’re going to be doing a lot of walking today, I opt for my comfy broken-in hot pink Converse over stylish sandals. Comfort over style wins every time.

Sitting down on the bed, I shoot off a quick text to Case. He’s probably still asleep. If I had the chance to be, I’d be sleeping still.

Am I being too excessive? Asking to meet him at his place? It is quite nervy, right? But he does have the next few days off and I’m in town. His town. Not to mention the fact I’ll be staying with him. I’m always second-guessing myself, but I already hit send. It’s too late now.

What? Who invited him to coffee? I’m not ready to see Case yet. Am I? Hell, no. On one hand, I may never be ready, but on the other hand, I also need to jump right in.

There, first step taken. Taking a deep breath, I wait for his reply.

I can’t stop the smile from spreading across my face. I wouldn’t want to if I could.

It’s nearly thirty minutes later, instead of twenty, when I walk into Starbucks. Case has already claimed a spot near the front on one of the sofas provided for customers to chill. Waving to him, I silently let him know I’m ordering before I meet him to sit down.

Placing my order for an iced caramel macchiato, I make my way over to Case while waiting for the barista to finish crafting my drink. He stands as I approach the couch.

Such a gentleman.

“Hey, mo ghaol. It’s great to see you.” He leans in closer, placing a kiss upon my cheek. “It feels like ages since I’ve lain my eyes on you. You’re stunning. As beautiful as my memory recalls,” he compliments.

Smiling at his comments, I take a moment to bask in the happiness I felt when his lips touched my cheek.

“You don’t appear bad yourself, you clean up well, Case,” I admit.

“Order for Tenley,” the barista says from near the middle of the shop.

Case takes off to grab my drink while I sit down on the couch and make myself comfy. I’m already drooling at the thought of my iced brew hitting my tongue. My coffee is the one thing that can make me happy every single day. Regardless of what’s going on in my life, my love affair with coffee has never changed.

Handing me my iced deliciousness, he takes a seat right next to me. Not on the other side of the couch, but next to me all up in my business.

“What does mo ghaol mean?” I ask.

“You’re not ready to know the meaning. It’s a saying in Scottish-Gaelic—my heritage—I’ve went back and forth on a nickname for you. Nothing fits. Last night, it slipped out. Then after it happened, I found I quite like it. Does it bother you?” he both informs and asks me.

“The jury’s still out. It is better than babe though. I’ll keep it for now. Unless we think of something better. Deal?” I offer.

“Deal.” He takes a drink of his coffee and relaxes back into the couch, his arm slyly creeping around my shoulders. “The fireworks show is tomorrow, and we’ll view it out on Lady Bird Lake. My friends are taking out their pontoon, and there’s plenty of space for you to accompany me. It’s the best place to view the show. Did you think of anything else to do for today?”

“Hm…Actually no, the bat bridge and fireworks are all I planned. Van was going to think of stuff to do as well until I kicked her off the trip. What’s something you like to do? Show me your favorite places in Austin,” I say.

Taking a few minutes, he ponders over my suggestion. I’m positive he’s thinking about some places we could visit for the day. He lifts his coffee to his incredibly sexy and kissable lips and drains his cup.

“Okay, we can do my Austin. Answer a few questions for me first…Do you like the strange and peculiar?”

“Yeah, I myself am a bit weird, it’d be a lie for me to say no,” I inform him.

“Weird is super, okay, got it. BBQ or Brewery?” he asks.

“Ask me later. Right now, because I haven’t eaten anything yet, I’d say BBQ. But my heart is screaming to say Brewery. How about we do one today, one tomorrow?” I suggest.

“Sounds great to me, mo ghaol. Would you like to know what I have in mind as soon as we put some food in your belly? Oh, wait, also one more question. Do you like dancing and do you also like watching old folks dance?”

The giggle-snort escaping my mouth cannot be attractive. I’ve seen one as it popped out of my mama’s mouth before. If it didn’t appear attractive coming from her, it surely doesn’t look nice coming from me.

“I’m sorry, the, uh…laugh thing couldn’t be helped. For your first one, yes, I’d like to know what you have in mind. Second one, yes and yes.”

“Tenley, trust me when I say you look attractive doing anything.” Bringing his hand up from my shoulder, he starts wistfully running his fingers through my hair. It feels amazing. “For the weirdness, I’m taking you to a store called Uncommon Objects, it’s packed with all sorts of old and strange objects. I love it, it’s one of my favorite places in the city.” While his fingers keep up their journey mapping out my hair, he continues telling me our plans for the day. “The BBQ or Brewery question was because I want to take you on a tour of both. Each tour lasts a solid chunk of time, which is why we can’t do both in one day. And as for the dancing old folks, we’re going to BROKEN SPOKE. It’s a place with lots of dancing and it’s frequented by our elderly.”

All of it sounds wonderful.

And expensive. At least the tours will be, the rest is free, I’m sure.

I have enough set aside, but my nest egg has been dwindling over the last couple of years. Keeping my mouth shut is the smart thing to do, I don’t want him thinking I’m cheap, but I am. Well, thrifty is more accurate. Although I do plan on taking this road trip a bit further. If it’s all okay with Dr. Beesley, I’ll be venturing on.

“Sounds like we have a deal, I say.

“Great, finish up your drink and let’s get you fed, mo ghaol.”

After a breakfast filled with the best breakfast tacos I’ve ever had and hash browns, the rest of our morning is spent wandering around Uncommon Objects. I’ve been consumed in a box of old photos for over an hour. Since it’s taken up a ton of my time and I’m barely through half of it, I decide to buy it. Maybe a story will come of staring at someone else’s old photographs.

Case finds me sitting on the floor, back against a wall of framed photos, with the box in my lap. I’m sifting through them as he approaches.

“There’s more treasures to be found—I’m positive there’s more photos, too—in the rest of the store. Have you moved since I left you?” he asks.

Shaking my head, I wordlessly hand him the box so I may stand and join him.

“I’m not exactly sure what it is about this box, but I have to buy them. They’re calling to me. And no, I haven’t moved. Please don’t make me see creepy old dolls. If we can bypass all of those, I’ll let you take me around the rest of the store.”

“Hmmm…avoid dolls. Anything else?”

“Clowns,” I confess.

“Clowns?” he questions. “Why clowns? Are you one of those people who hate clowns because Hollywood has made them scary or have you always hated clowns?” he asks.

“When I was young, six maybe, my parents took me to the circus. I desperately wanted to ride an elephant, I was obsessed with Dumbo and was convinced I was going to be meeting him. As we stood in line, a couple of clowns came over. One had pointy teeth. He smiled at me and handed me a plastic flower. He was nice but scared the crap out of me. It was those damn pointy teeth. He looked like he ate children for breakfast. Naturally, I started crying and insisted on going home. My dreams of Dumbo, crushed.”

The memory brings a frown to my face, and I swear I can feel my eyes shimmering with the memory. No, I don’t hate clowns from Hollywood’s depiction of them. I purely hate them because one scared me as a child.

“Okay, fear of clowns validated. Check. For the record, I don’t like them either, but mine is due to Hollywood’s version of them. One word…Pennywise. He forever ruined my childhood, and he’s continuing to wreak havoc on my adulthood as well. Although, I did like the remake and will admit to seeing the new movie more than once.”

“Movie? Pennywise?” I ask, because clearly I live under a rock.

“IT! by Stephen King. They originally made the book as a mini-series back when we were growing up. This past summer, they remade part of the book into a movie. The villain in IT! is Pennywise the dancing clown,” he informs me.

“Ah, I never watched it. Or read the book either,” I admit.

“The book is worth the read; the new movie is most definitely worth watching. The mini-series? If you were a hardcore King fan, yeah, you’d almost have to watch, but since you’re clearly not, I’d skip it.” Reaching down, he grabs my hand, his fingers twining with mine. “Come on, I have some more cool objects to show you.”

Over the next hour, he proceeds to lead me around the store showing me one strange thing after another. Besides the box of photos, I end up buying a collection of old books. Not for the titles mind you, but for the appearance of them. They’re all from the late 1800s and in pristine condition, the hardbacks vary in color from light turquoise to soft pinks to the deepest chestnut. The way they were displayed on a cabinet once used in a library as its card cataloging system screamed “buy me”. Case had to talk me out of buying the cabinet. The only reason I stopped was because I had no way to get it back to Alabama. If I lived closer, it would’ve been mine.

“Did you decide on the brewery or BBQ tour?” Case asks as we’re walking down the sidewalk away from the store, my treasures in bags at our sides.

“Brewery today, BBQ tomorrow.” Stopping mid-step, I turn to face him. “Thank you for today, Case. This is the happiest I’ve been in a long time. It’s hard to explain it but today with you I feel weightless. Like all of the heaviness of the past two years slips away and I’m free to be me again. The person I was becoming before love took over my life and I became part of a duo. It’s nice to meet her again. On the other hand, she wants to be with you. It’s all confusing but at the same time makes sense. I’m at peace. Here in Austin…with you,” I confess.

Placing his hand gently on my chin, he tilts my face up, his hungry gaze meeting mine. “Don’t question it, just let go. For the next few days be with me, Tenley. We’ll see where it all goes after.” His head shifts down, inside I’m pleading for him to kiss me. Kiss me, Case. Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me. Closing my eyes, I feel his warm breath on my skin and realize he’s placing a gentle kiss upon my forehead.

“Come on, mo ghaol, we have a tour to take of some of Austin’s greatest breweries—self-guided by yours truly, by the way. If we drink way too much, as we should, we can catch an Uber back to my place. More of Austin’s weirdness awaits, let’s go greet it,” he says while gently tugging on my hand, pulling me along to where his truck is parked further down the street.

All at once, without my knowing, the ice encasing my heart doesn’t crackle…it breaks.

As we’re nearing the bat bridge on the Segway tour, my stomach fills with jitters.

Why in the hell did I insist on seeing over two million bats?

It’s another sure sign I’m crazy.

“Tell me again why we’re doing this?” I ask Case.

“Because you practically insisted. Plus, it’s pretty cool and worth seeing. Trust me, mo ghaol, you’ll love it,” he replies.

The tour leader instructs us all to stop, saying this is one of the best places to view all the bats. I’m praying none came at me and get tangled up in my blonde hair. I read somewhere how bats are attracted to blondes. Strange thought to have run through my head at the moment, but it’s been in the forefront of my mind since we stepped on our Segways.

Case can see the worry etched all over my face. He takes my hand and squeezes, reassuring me he’s in this with me. Instantly, my fear takes a back seat. Just in time, too. Because a few bats are starting to make their way out from under the bridge.

“They’ll fly out for over an hour, it’s two million plus bats. They come out every night in the summer months to eat roughly thirty thousand pounds of insects…a night,” Case informs me while our tour guide stays silent. Shouldn’t this be a fact he tells the entire tour group?

My worries about one possibly flying into my hair were for naught. The bats fly high into the trees and higher still until they’ve formed a gigantic black circle in the air near all the downtown buildings before disappearing into the dark to gather their dinner. All before coming back to the bridge to do it all tomorrow night.

It’s spectacular.

And scary.

But one thing is for certain, I’m glad I did it.

The next morning, I wake with a major headache. Even the flutter of my eyelashes hurt, my tongue feels like I’ve eaten a handful of sand. What in the hell did I do last night? In a moment it all comes roaring back, like waves crashing on the shore.

Memory after memory.

Boom.

Boom.

Boom.

Case kissing my forehead.

The taste of the amber beer at the first brewery, and the third glass I drank going down smoother than the first.

The fifth brewery not wanting to allow me access to the tasting part of the tour because I was “light on my feet”. And Case insisting I try his sample of their newest wheat brew. The way his glass felt as he pressed it to my lips urging me to take a sip.

Our ordering pizza from the Uber, so it’d be delivered within minutes of our arrival to his place.

My stumbling into his building around 9 p.m. and greeting the doorman loudly and with a kiss on the cheek.

Eating a slice of pizza and regretting it as it came up before I reached the hallway bathroom.

Case holding my hair back as I was sick and offering me a new toothbrush and mouthwash before tucking me into his bed, solo.

It’s where I am now, his bed, still alone. With my thoughts slightly jumbled. Maybe after coffee I’ll feel more like myself. Sliding out of bed, I flip open the lid on my suitcase and gather some clothes for the day. Wait. How the hell did my luggage get here? Actually, where’s Case? His bedroom is loft-style and from his bed you can see the entirety of his apartment, he’s nowhere to be seen.

“Case?” I call out, knowing it will go unanswered.

Hm. How strange to wake in his apartment, alone, when I don’t remember pieces of the night before. Huge chunks of the night I’m positive he’ll be able to fill in for me. Pushing it aside, I make my way into the bathroom to get ready for the day.

His master bathroom is remarkable. The showerhead has twelve different settings and the floorboards are heated. A girl could get used to this luxury. Placing my clothes on the edge of the sink, I step into the shower to get lost in the steam. I’m about to turn on the faucet when I hear my name called out from down below.

“Um, I’m about to shower. I’ll be down in a few.” Hoping he heard me, I turn the knob and lose myself in the hot water flowing down my shoulders. This is heaven. I’m shampooing my hair with his woody citrus scented shampoo when I hear the door handle click.

Shit, I forgot to lock the door.

Not used to having to lock a door, I skipped over it when I walked inside. Then again, why would he feel free enough to walk inside? Have I given him any sign indicating I’m ready for more than simply holding hands or a kiss?

“Hey, mo ghaol, my eyes are closed, I promise. Your reply was muffled and I was checking on you, making sure you didn’t need anything,” he says.

“You swear on your life your eyes are closed?”

“Yes, I swear on my life. I wouldn’t break your trust. I’m only checking in, besides the door is only cracked and I’m standing on the other side.” Now, hearing him say it, his voice does sound a bit distant. “Now, answer me, do you need anything?”

“Nope.” The word pops from my mouth. It must be enough to appease him because a second after is passes from my lips, I hear the door click shut.

Foregoing conditioner, I make quick work taking the rest of my shower. I’m excited to get the day started despite having a killer headache. It’s nothing a stop or two by Starbucks won’t cure. Today is the Fourth of July, I have a BBQ tour and some fireworks to see. I’m not letting a stupid hangover rule my day.

Hanging my towel to dry on the empty heated towel bar near the his and hers sinks, I throw on my sundress, toss my towel dried hair up into a ponytail, and call it decent. After a swipe of lip balm, I’m ready for the day. If I felt better, I’d be putting in more of an effort when it comes to my appearance, but truth is, I feel sort of shitty.

Walking down the stairs, I hear Case before I see him. He must be on the phone because he’s answering questions I’m not privy to. He spies me walking toward him, gives me a slight head nod, and continues on with his conversation. His staying on the phone doesn’t bother me one bit because the moment my foot hits the last step, I spy the Keurig machine on the kitchen island, a coffee mug and tons of K-cups resting near.

Mmm. Coffee.

Grabbing the mug, I place it under the machine, grab a random K-cup, and press brew on the biggest cup it’ll make me. Would it be wishful thinking if I want Case to stay on the phone until at least the last drop from this mug of sweet, sweet nectar hits my tongue? Yeah, I don’t think it’s illogical. I’m quite the bitch before caffeine hits my body. Add in my hangover, I’m betting on the snarky side of me winning the day, more than cool, calm-headed Tenley.

Michael always laughed when he’d hand me my coffee each morning. He’d go out of his way to find me quirky mugs to use each day. My favorite one?

First I drink the coffee. Then I do the things.

The day before his death, he bought me two new mugs. I’ve never taken them out of the bubble wrap, except to look at them when he gifted them. When I get home from this trip, I’m going to our house and getting those two mugs. I’ll drink from them every day until I buy myself more.

Why?

Because when I was glancing through the box of vintage pictures yesterday, someone had written a lovely message on the back of one. It couldn’t be more fitting for my life. It’s how I knew those pictures were meant to be mine.

It’s a picture of a beautiful girl. She’s fifteen, has curly dark hair, and even with the sepia tone of the picture you know by observing her the rouge on her lips is bright red. Her name was scrawled in a neat script on the back. With a birthdate, the date the picture was taken…and a death date. The inscription on the back says— “Some of our best living is done with the people we’ve lost kept in mind.”

On the drive to the first brewery, I took the picture out of the box and placed it in my wallet. I wanted to carry young Cativa and the message with me. As a gentle reminder to live, but to always have Michael in my mind and heart. It’s where he lives now. I believe her picture was exactly what I needed at the precise time. My confusion over Case hasn’t been extremely daunting. Which I admitted to him.

Lifting the mug up to drain the rest of my coffee, I see Case moving closer. It’s then I realize how quiet it’s become in the place. How long has he been watching me think?

“How are you feeling this morning, mo ghaol?”

“Peachy.” The comment slips from my mouth. It’s not what I planned to say, but it is the truth.

His rich deep laughter fills the room, bouncing off the walls. At least someone finds my hangover humorous.

“When you awoke, I was out running to the corner drugstore. I knew you’d need some pain relievers for what has to be a killer headache, and I was out of them. The run took a few minutes longer than I thought it would. Sorry if you were scared when you woke to an empty apartment. It won’t happen again while you’re here. Promise.”

“It’s fine. Not a big deal, honestly. I figured it was something of the sort, either you ran out for breakfast or maybe an actual run. I trusted you to be back before long. Which reminds me, how in the hell is my suitcase here?” I ask.

“Since we left it at the hotel, it was easy enough. Your keys fell out of your purse at brewery number four, on one of your many searches for your phone, which was always in my pocket. You knew where it was, but yet kept searching your purse. I snagged your keys. After I was sure you were done getting sick, I called an Uber to take me to my truck. From there I went to the hotel, paid you up on parking for the next three days, and snagged your luggage. I couldn’t sleep anyway, figured I’d put my insomnia to good use,” he says.

Oh. Okay then. My mouth remains to stay open, I dropped my jaw sometime around the time he said I kept searching my purse for my phone.

“I was a fucking handful, huh?” I jest. Mostly.

“Never. You, my beautifully tragic mo ghaol, were a gorgeous disaster.” The way his eyes shine when he says this makes me believe the words passing through his lips.

Boy, am I in trouble.

The day slips away from me and before I know it we’re on Case’s friend Landon’s pontoon, waiting for the fireworks display to begin. This day has been spectacular. From the BBQ, to the scenery, to the company, every single thing has been exactly what I’ve been searching for…

Peace.

My mind has been silent since this morning. There’s been no second guessing myself and I went with the flow for each decision I made today. I’ve gone as far as to grab Case’s hand myself and thread our fingers together. When another girl was making eyes at him, I staked my claim on him. Silently letting her know he was taken. At least for the time I’m here. If we keep progressing, it’ll take effort from both our sides. If he’s shown me anything these last few days, he’s proven to me the risk I’d be taking in putting my healing heart on the line would one-hundred percent be worth any havoc I’ll have to wade through in order to find my happiness again with Case.

Dr. Beesley would be proud of me. Hell, I’m proud of me. If Van wouldn’t have suggested this trip, I wonder if I’d be where I am now mentally? Would I have made such vast steps without her pushing me from the comfort of my nest?

“Tenley, the fireworks are about to start, come join me,” Case states from his seat near the front of the boat. He’s seated with Landon and a knockout brunette I’ve yet to meet. Which isn’t saying much, since most of my time on board has been occupied by Case. He’s introduced me to two people. Two. He claims he knows every person aboard, but I have my doubts. And I have been giving him slack for it over the last hour.

Strolling toward them, I remove my hands from my pockets, stop near the dark-haired beauty, and politely hold out my hand, “I’m Tenley, I don’t believe we’ve met, you are?”

“Moon, Landon’s wife.” Her answer is short and clipped. She doesn’t take my proffered hand to shake, only snubs her nose at me and turns her head away. She completely dismisses me.

Bitch.

Really, who names someone Moon? Bet she has a sibling named Sun. Yep, my claws are out.

“Okay, then, I’ll move along to my seat. Clearly, you’re the catty type. Stored away for future reference.” Shit. I said it all out loud, didn’t I? Oh, well, it’s the damn truth.

“Clearly, you’re merely another notch on his bedpost. Therefore, I see no reason to play nice,” Moon snaps back.

“You’re delusional. Number one, whatever I do have with Case is none of your—or anyone else’s for that matter—business. But know this, it is beautiful and light waves above notches on bedposts. Number two, when a lady offers you a hand to shake, you shake her hand. It’s called having manners. Maybe you’ve heard of them, one thing I do know for certain is you could use some, Moon.” Her name slips from my lips laced with venom, I see no reason to be nice. “Maybe you’re unhappy in your own life and need to be rude to new people you meet. But let me tell you from experience, it doesn’t push them away. It pulls them in closer. My husband dying sure has taught me how to push people away, but it’s also taught me not to let the great ones go when they stumble into your bookstore searching for a Stephen King book and leave with two novels you penned yourself. Yeah, maybe you don’t see a reason to play nice, but I do. Because I’m going to try my hardest to be a part of Case’s life forever.”

Before she musters up the gall to reply, I feel Case’s hand on the small of my back, leading me to the seats he had saved for us. He’s trying to keep me from harm, but he doesn’t have to. I can handle catty women like Moon. I’ve been dealing with them my whole life. They see my blonde hair, blueish green eyes and think I’m the typical girl next door. They don’t expect me to be a well-educated, highly-respected, best-selling author. Not to mention someone who has the balls to speak for herself.

They think an author like me should appear like Nora Roberts or Danielle Steel and not be a younger more modern young thirty-something. Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not sixty, married (anymore), surrounded by grandchildren, and writing romance for your mother.

“I had her handled, Case,” I whisper into his ear, as not to be overhead, since Landon and Moon are seated nearby.

“Never said you didn’t, mo ghaol,” he whispers back.

“She wanted me to know her claws are sharp, is all,” I whisper half into his ear, half near his cheek. He turns his head while I am speaking. His lips are seeking mine. He misses. I turn my head as quick as possible when I hear the first pop of a firework release into the mid-summer night sky.

I’m disappointed I missed our first kiss, but I know it’ll come soon enough now. If he doesn’t kiss me while the fireworks are lighting up the Texas sky, I don’t know when he will. We’ve yet to progress from the forehead kiss. And I desperately want us to move forward.

One may go as far as to call me anxious about moving forward.

The display in the sky is mesmerizing.

The local radio station has choreographed music to sync with each firework as it’s set off. It’s heavenly. I’ve never witnessed such beauty for our country’s birthday.

The song playing now is by The Beatles, it’s Yellow Submarine, every bomb going off in the sky is yellow or gold. It’s strikingly beautiful. Each song played, the more the colors coordinate. When it’s drawing closer to the end, you can feel it. The crowd becomes more excited, more tense, more enthusiastic. Case stands and pulls me with him. Placing me directly in front of him, he wraps his hands around my waist and pulls me back so I’m leaning into him, my head resting below his chin.

“This is my favorite part, sweetheart,” he whispers so close it tickles the tiny hairs on my ear. “The finale will leave you breathless.”

I’m already feeling breathless and it’s not from the fireworks filling the sky.

His scent envelops me. I’m surrounded in his strong arms, watching the most gorgeous display of fireworks I’ve ever witnessed, it’s then hundreds are let off at once, and Case was correct, it’s hard to catch your breath. The sky fills with hundreds upon hundreds of fireworks. So many it’s hard to choose where to look. Tears start streaming down my face from all the beauty I see and the company I’m with.

This. This is what I’ve been flapping around trying to find again. This is my peace.

As the last firework lights up the night sky, Case turns me around in his arms, gently places his hands on my chin, leans in, and places his lips on mine.

It’s the sweetest, gentlest, most perfect first kiss ever.

Kissing her is like a dream come true. I’ve been longing to kiss her since the day I walked into the bookstore to hear her singing off key.

I didn’t know what she looked like, but her voice hit me straight in the gut. Yes, even when it was off key and horrible. When she gave me attitude about the types of books I probably did and didn’t read, I knew I wanted her in my life. She was a feisty, untamed, hellcat. Albeit a sad one.

Tonight, when she was telling off Moon, I wrongly assumed she needed rescuing. She didn’t, she had the stuck-up bitch in her place when I walked up to grab her. I should’ve known she’d hold her own. She’s getting stronger every day. I couldn’t resist kissing her anymore.

The fireworks made it more special. Her lips are soft and perfect against mine. When she sighs, I take advantage and slip my tongue inside. Our tongues dual for a moment before I break the kiss. If I keep going, I’ll end up taking her to bed tonight. And we both know she’s not ready for the next step in our relationship.

A kiss will have to do.

Over the next two days, Case takes me all over Austin, showing me the ins and outs of the city he calls home. Places a normal tourist wouldn’t see.

It’s the most fun I’ve had since before that day.

Not all of it can be because of the company, no, it’s the surroundings.

This city.

It feels as if I could start calling this city home. Like I could see myself settling down here and burrowing in.

Domesticating.

Previously, I haven’t given any thought about selling my home back in Alabama, but I have over the last few days. When I made the move back into my parents’ house, I decided to keep my home, but try and rent it out. At the time selling it felt wrong.

Foreign. Erroneous. Immoral. Unethical.

Whatever I call it, it simply didn’t feel accurate. Letting go of my house was like letting go of the last real piece of Michael I had left. Strangely these last couple of days with Case—not to mention the picture I’m carrying around in my purse—have both helped me see a house isn’t where Michael remains. He’s in my heart. And he’ll always be there.

Yes, I’m still fighting with my demons. At moments, I still feel wrong spending time getting to know another man romantically, but I’m thinking about my future. It’s something Michael would’ve wanted me to do. He wouldn’t want me to sit inside my head anymore, driving myself crazy. This depression has been eating me alive and I’ve been letting it rule my life for too long.

It’s way overdue; I’ve taken the reins to my own damn life.

Another shocking thing to me is I haven’t been depending on the sleeping pills as much the last few days. I’ve cut down to a half a dose each night, surprisingly it’s been working. Maybe I shouldn’t be doing it without Dr. Beesley’s consent, but I don’t see her telling me not to take less of something. I didn’t stop completely or mess with my other medications. Besides, one of my main reasons for seeing her is to stop depending on the medications to get through my days and nights.

This morning, I’m packing what remnants of mine lie around Case’s apartment. My suitcase is jammed packed, and I doubt it’ll fit another item. It’s a good thing I drove and have tons of free space in the trunk.

I may have begged Case to take me back to Uncommon Objects yesterday.

And I may have also went a tad crazy with the purchases.

One thing I didn’t leave the store without? The card catalog cabinet. It’s call to me was too hard to resist, and I caved this time. I couldn’t help myself, it’s a great office piece. It’s set to be delivered to Alabama once I get back home. I’ll call them and have the delivery team sent to bring it to me.

Or…

If at the end of this long journey of finding myself again, I choose to move to Austin, I can call and have it delivered wherever I’d live here. I’ve already made a mental note to start checking the real estate in the area.

A change in scenery may be exactly what I need to go on living.

Saying goodbye to Case isn’t going to be a cake walk. I’m in over my head when it comes to this man, but I know I’ll be seeing him again…soon.