Chapter Twenty-Five

Lola

Meeting more of Perry's family wasn't as awkward as I imagined. His dad at least seemed genuinely happy to meet me. And Aiden is great—hilarious, sweet, and everything I'd think a typical nine-year-old boy should be.

He hasn't stopped chatting since we climbed into Perry's truck, and I can't help but steal a glance at him every chance I get. His resemblance to Perry isn't as obvious as Jerica's with his thick blond hair and lean, lanky frame. It's more in the way his blue eyes turn down just slightly at the corners, and even his hand gestures resemble Perry's. It's fun to be able to mark the family resemblance in each of Perry's siblings, and even more fun to get to know them better.

Being his usual somber, quiet self, Perry nods and listens to Aiden's stories, only interjecting an "Ah, okay," or a "That's pretty cool" every so often. Each time, he peeks a look at me over Aiden's head and either smiles or winks. The subtle gestures do more than he knows. I can't wait to sit side by side with him at the fireworks.

Full darkness descends as we pull into the parking area off Main Street, and a few practice pops fill the air.

"Perry, hurry!" Aiden shouts, grabbing two of the folding chairs. Perry and I do the same and book it to the grassy area designated for people to watch.

"Jerica said she's already got us a spot near the swing set," Perry calls up to Aiden.

We head that way, passing small crowds of people, and I practice my best smile as I try not to dread the coming awkwardness. Will she be upset that I'm officially seeing her brother? That I tossed her warning out the window just to be with Perry for as long as it makes sense for both of us?

As we near the swings, she comes into view, dressed in her typical jeans and top combo. She turns at our approach, and immediately holds her arms out for Aiden, who lunges at her with a squeal.

"I'm so glad Dad and Sloane let you come!" she says, twirling him around. "I was beginning to think maybe they changed their minds."

"Nah, just me running late," says Perry.

Jerica sets Aiden down and eyes Perry with curiosity. "Well, that's new." Then her gaze settles on me, and a sheepish sort of smile crosses her face. "Hey, Lo. I've, uh…missed hanging out."

I step forward and wrap her in a hug, not caring that we haven't spoken in over a week. "I've missed hanging out with you too. Wanna come over tomorrow?"

"I'd like that." She steps back, waving toward where she has a folding chair set up. "Just put your chairs anywhere. We've got a pretty good view right here."

We each set up our chairs, Aiden putting his between Jerica's and Perry's, but when I go to sit in mine, I'm grabbed from the side and plopped in Perry's lap.

"Wanna sit here?" His breath skitters down my neck as he speaks low into my ear. "I hear the view is fantastic." A whole-body shiver overtakes me as I settle back against him.

"If this isn't crossing any lines in your stepmom's eyes, sure," I whisper back. He drapes his large, muscled arms around me, taking the time to situate us more comfortably.

"I don't care if it is," he says. "She needs to lighten up." Placing a sweet kiss to my neck, he adds, "Besides, I think it's good for Aiden to see a positive, loving relationship, don't you?"

Electricity sizzles under my skin like tiny lightning strikes, making a path directly to my heart. I so badly want to stay in this positive, loving relationship. I can't fathom it ending and having to deal with the fallout. My heart may never recover.

"Lo?" Perry nuzzles his nose against my neck, nudging me back to the present.

I clear my throat. "If you think so, yeah."

"I do."

In that moment, I meet Jerica's eyes, and to my surprise, she seems…happy for us. There's not a trace of hurt or anger in her gaze, only what looks like acceptance. Aiden snags her attention once again and I ease back, melting in Perry's strong arms.

A loud boom earns a collective gasp from the crowd, and we all raise our gazes to the sky. An array of colors lights up the night, streaking wildly through the dark and smoke. Aiden and Jerica ooh and ahh at the bright display, while Perry keeps his arms tucked tightly around me.

"I'm so glad you're here," he murmurs against my skin. I angle myself toward him, and he skates his nose along my cheek. "You feel perfect in my arms. In fact—" He squeezes me tighter. "I think you should stay right here forever."

I smile at his sweetness even while my tears sting behind my eyes. I run my hands over his forearms and meet his lips in a quick, chaste kiss. "I want to stay right here forever."

He pulls back and looks into my eyes, questions swirling through his. Another loud bang gets our attention, breaking the intensity of the moment. I settle against him and refocus on the sky. I can't allow my emotions to get all tangled up, not when Perry can read the nuances in my words, my expressions.

I'll let myself fall apart later, when no one else can hear me cry.

Right now, we're together and enjoying the time we do have.

After one of the sweetest goodbyes I've ever seen where Aiden clung to Perry while he promised to take him fishing, Jerica carted the little guy off toward her car. The two of us abandoned his truck to the public parking lot in favor of walking home hand in hand.

The clear night sky draws my attention, and I realize it's not as easy to see the stars in Rhode Island. Maybe it's the smog or because I live in the city, but out here, the stars seem to twinkle a little brighter. The longer I'm in Willow Cove, the more I consider what it might be like to stay.

"Do you have a few minutes?" Perry asks. I meet his eyes, wondering what he has planned. "There's something I'd like to show you. Something…I haven't really shown anyone other than Jerica and a few close friends."

My heart picks up speed. "Yeah, sure. I've got all night."

His responding smile is as wide as if I just gifted him a million bucks. "Perfect." When we reach the bungalow, we head out back toward Perry's, but just when I think he's going to steer me toward the door, he bypasses the front completely. "It's around back."

I laugh out loud and tug on his hand. "You know I've watched plenty of crime documentaries. Too many, honestly. Enough to know that my chances aren't that great if I walk to the back of a guy's house with him."

He just laughs and shakes his head. "Baby, if I wanted to murder you, I would've done it when you burst into my house in just a nightshirt." Heat creeps into my cheeks and I duck my face. "I mean, at least then I would've had cause since you broke into my home wielding a weapon."

I scoff. "Hardly. A broom doesn't count."

"And yet, you thought it was the ideal weapon in case you needed to fight off an intruder."

I bump into him from the side, and he does it back until we're standing before a large wooden shed. "What is this?"

He cocks an eyebrow and gives me a sidelong glance. "My murder shed."

I burst out laughing and push at his chest. "Okay, fine, I'm sorry for insinuating you were a killer. Now show me what this place is."

He inhales a breath that sounds uncharacteristically shaky. "All right. Just promise you won't laugh."

"Can't do that," I quip. When he turns back to me, I clarify. "I laugh sometimes when I'm excited. Sorry, can't help it."

He shakes his head at my shrug, then opens the double doors with a loud creak. "Just a second while I get the light."

I step over the threshold into complete darkness. Shadowed shapes on the walls feed into my earlier theory. "You sure this isn't your murder shed?"

The heat of Perry's hard muscled body hits my back, his warm breath tickling my skin. "Don't forget, Lo, I know where you sleep." One calloused finger trails down my neck and I shiver.

Then the bulb flickers on above us, bathing the entire space in warm light. The first thing that catches my eye is what looks like a large oven. An array of tools and benches take up the space—some I recognize, others I don't.

"What is this?" I ask Perry.

He settles next to me, hands on his hips. "This is my workshop."

I turn at the pride in his voice when a riot of color captures my attention. Different kinds of glass, all shapes and sizes, are artfully displayed on three stacked shelves. Goblets, bowls, even ornaments, take up the space, showcasing colors and shapes I didn't even know glass objects could be.

"Did you…make these?" The glass calls to me, and before I realize what I'm doing, my fingers trace a path across a particularly beautiful yellow bowl.

"I did." Perry's voice now holds a hint of hesitancy. I whirl toward him, amazed. "Perry, this is incredible."

He scuffs his boot on the hard cement floor and lowers his head. "It's just a hobby right now, but…someday, I'd like to open up a shop on the boardwalk." Peeking up at me through his lashes, he smiles. "Think that's too lofty a goal?"

"No." I shake my head and move toward him, resting my hands on his shoulders once we're toe to toe. "Perry, you are incredibly talented. This stuff rivals some of the glass I've seen in big-box stores."

A self-deprecating chuckle rattles through him as he swipes a hand through his hair. "I don't know about that. But figured maybe I could make a buck off some of the tourists that travel through town."

"Perry." I set my hand on his cheek, forcing his eyes back to mine. "I am so impressed." I bite my lip on the question that forms on my tongue. Deciding to go for it, I ask, "Would you be willing to show me how you do it? I've always thought glassblowing was so cool."

His face transforms from shy to confident under my touch and he nods. "Sure. How about right now?"

Perry suits up with gloves and eye gear, and for the next hour, shows me his exact process for glassblowing. He makes a pink-tinged glass cup, and I'm in awe of how thoroughly he inspects the glass as he goes. It's an intense process, it seems, heating the glass, then turning it over and blowing into the tube to get the right amount of air inside it.

I've never been more entranced than I am watching this man transform a glowing blob of molten glass into a perfectly formed object that can hold actual liquid.

It's nearly one a.m. when he sets the glass into a small oven to cure. "So what do you think?"

"I am even more impressed," I say honestly, rising from the stool he procured for me. "You're very skilled."

His smile widens as he tosses off the gloves. "In more ways than one?"

My hands find his shoulders, then his neck, and I pull him closer. "Hm, I don't know. Might have to practice some of your skills a bit more for me to be able to pass judgement."

Bending down to meet me, he captures my lips, slowly and deliciously. "I'm so glad I got to share this with you," he breathes against my lips.

"Me too." For a moment, we stay like we are, foreheads pressed together, pretending like we've got nothing but time. My thoughts stray to the story he told me while he was making the glass, how he forced himself to take up a hobby when Brandi left him. He claims that glassblowing not only gave him an outlet to process the grief of losing that relationship, but it filled him with new purpose when he realized his items were good enough to sell.

Except the years passed and he never took the chance on a business, instead deciding he should save up enough for the startup costs plus a cushion in case the whole thing fell through.

"So that's why you readily agreed to work with us," I say when it all clicks together.

He leans back, looking into my eyes. "Yes. And no."

"No?"

A heavy sigh leaves his lips as he raises a hand to trace my cheekbone with his thumb. "I wanted the money for the business, yeah. But I also think that…" He shakes his head with a laugh. "I know this is going to sound ridiculous, but I think somewhere deep inside, I wanted someone like you to find me. To see me and bring me back to life."

His words settle under my skin, into my bones. A watery laugh slips from me as I run my fingers through his hair. "You did?"

He dips his chin and places a soft kiss to my lips. "You came in and wrecked things, Lola. In the best way. You wrecked my summer plans, my false sense of peace, even my hard exterior. You broke through everything to get to the me underneath. And I've never been so happy to be found before."

A tear leaks from my eye before I can hold it at bay.

"What's wrong?"

I inhale a shaky breath. "Perry…We're not…"

He steps away, whether to give me space or because he's upset, I can't tell. "We're not what?"

"We're not…permanent."

His eyes narrow slightly, then he blinks. "Right. I know that." Clears his throat. "I mean…you live in Rhode Island; I live here." All the closeness from before vanishes as his demeanor changes. "Um, I'm actually pretty tired. Mind if I close this up and we talk tomorrow?"

More tears slip free, but I brush them away. I want to stop him, to force him to work through this with me, but what good would that do? I'm too emotional to hold a conversation right now. Too tired to come up with solutions to the problems that plague us. "Yeah, sure. Goodnight."

"Night, Lo." I don't wait a second longer before I rush out into the dark and race for the bungalow, my heart breaking with each step.

Why did I have to ruin a good moment with my stupid emotions? I should've known he didn't want to talk about it, that he wouldn't beg me to stay. Of course he won't; he's Perry. He's lived his entire adult life alone, and just because he said some pretty words doesn't mean he's willing to give all that up to be with me.

And am I willing to give up my entire career for a guy? How could I when it's all I've worked for so long? I don't have the energy to try and figure it all out tonight. He obviously doesn't either, which was why he sent me away. Maybe tomorrow when we're not so tired we'll be able to talk about it.

For now, I cry myself to sleep, wishing things could be different.