Chapter 22

After a few more precious moments in the quiet of the treehouse, we climbed down and went back inside the house. I mentally prepared myself for the chaos. Being an only child for so long, the energy of a large family could sometimes be a bit much for me to handle. As much as I loved it, I also needed a little space. I snickered to myself at the thought of needing a timeout.

It was funny how the things that used to be a punishment when you were a child were your salvation as an adult.

We stepped through the back door into the living room. To my surprise, it was quiet. I could hear the soft chatter of voices from the other room but the frenetic energy from earlier was gone.

Rix glanced over at me with a smirk. "Even the Evers aren't loud all the time."

When we walked into the living room, Tana looked up. "There you are. I was just coming to find you."

"Oh I was just checking out the treehouse. Sorry if I held you up."

She nodded but wasn't meeting my eyes. I instantly felt bad. When she'd come over to drag me out of the house, I'm sure she was thinking that we'd get to spend some time together. Instead I disappeared right after dinner and hid like a child.

But then I looked at her again. Tana's eyes were suspiciously bright and there was a bright red mark on her neck. She'd been wearing an oversized shirt when we came but must have taken it off when she was helping her mom clean up after dinner.

I pointed at her. "You've been keeping secrets."

She grabbed my arm and dragged me into the corner. "Shhh. It's nothing."

"Nothing, huh? It's definitely something if you have to hide a hickey from your parents." I laughed as her hand flew up to her shoulder. "You forgot it was there, didn't you?"

Tana grabbed her shirt from the back of the couch and yanked it over her head. "Not a word."

"Oh come on. It's so obvious. I could see it the night of the bonfire."

Her eyes swung to mine, looking unexpectedly vulnerable. "You could?"

I leaned closer so Rix couldn't hear us. "Everyone could tell. You and Greg were yelling back and forth over the fire all night. He's cute. I don't know why you don't just ask him out."

She laughed weakly. "Greg. Right. The situation is kind of complicated–"

"Hey man! I didn't know you were here." Rix's voice broke into our conversation.

I turned to see Carter stepping into the room. He had a bottle of wine tucked under his arm. His eyes swept over me and Tana in the corner before he raised his hand in a wave. "Sorry I'm late."

He handed the bottle of wine to Rix before they did some sort of complicated handshake that turned into a hug.

Rix looked at the bottle of wine with amusement. "You know you didn't have to bring anything."

"I wanted to. Your mom told me to come and get plates for me and my dad. Believe me, I appreciate not having to cook. Also, an excuse to get out of the house."

"Well, Mom is going to love this," Rix replied.

When they disappeared into the kitchen, Tana turned back to me. Her eyes narrowed. "Is everything okay? You were gone a long time."

My face heated. "I just needed to get some air. I'm amazed that treehouse is still standing."

She hummed in agreement but I could feel her eyes on the side of my face, assessing.

Luckily, Rix chose that moment to come back. "So I figured I'd give Charlie a ride home, since we're going the same place. We're starting a new project today."

Tana shrugged. "That works. I need to stop by the shop before I go home anyway."

After a quick hug, she grabbed her bag and headed for the front door. Before we could follow, a blur ran from the other room and tackled Rix. He laughed before picking up the bundle of giggling eleven-year-old.

"Hold on, Charlie. I just need to take the trash out." He tossed Beck over his shoulder and made a show of stomping toward the back door.

Beck screeched with laughter. "No! I'm not trash. Put me down." His hair was lighter but he looked so much like Rix did at the same age it was uncanny.

Rix paused and then tilted his head as if confused. "Did you hear something?"

I shrugged and looked up to the ceiling. "Nope. I didn't hear anything."

"Me either. But this bag of trash sure is smelly. I'd better put it right in the can."

Beck flailed helplessly before Rix finally turned him over and dropped him gently on the couch. His legs were so long one of his feet almost caught Rix in the face.

"What have they been feeding you, kid? You look like a Daddy Longlegs."

Beck grinned up at him, exposing a gaping space on the side of his mouth where he was missing a tooth. "Chicken. And Lucky Charms."

Rix snorted out a laugh. "Well, that'll do it. Where's Cam?"

Beck shrugged. "He's texting his girlfriend."

Rix knelt down and whispered something to him that made Beck smile. It was so illuminating to see Rix like this. As grumpy as he usually was, he had such an endless well of patience and love for his family. As I watched, I tried so hard to keep my mind from going places it shouldn't but it was impossible. Because this was exactly what I imagined Rix would be like with his own kids. Playful and fun but always there to listen when needed.

Picturing Rix as a father was the last thing I should be doing but the mental image came so easily, almost like I was remembering instead of daydreaming. I could see him standing with his hand on a child's shoulder while cradling an infant in the other arm. He'd handle the stress of parenting the same way he did everything else, with a grumpy expression but a secret smile when he thought no one was looking.

He'd be the father that was always there to play catch or teach his kids how to build something but also there with a firm word when they needed correction.

There. That was the operative word. He would be there. Always.

If I knew anything with certainty it was that nothing short of death would keep Hendrix Evers away from his kids.

"You ready to go?"

I looked up to realize Rix was talking to me. I nodded but caught the faint look of disappointment on Beck's face.

Rix must have seen it too because he ruffled the boy's hair. "I'll see you at your baseball game in a few days, right?"

Beck brightened. "Yeah."

Rix pulled out his phone. He typed something and then looked down at Beck. "Also I just sent you some game bucks."

Beck whooped. "Yes. Thank you!" He gave Rix another hug before racing off.

Rix yelled after him. "Say bye to Charlie at least!"

Beck poked his head out of his room. "Bye Charlie!"

I laughed. "Bye Beck!"

Rix shook his head. "Sorry. Let's get out of here while we still can."

As we passed by the kitchen, Rix stuck his head in. "We're leaving guys."

Mrs. Evers came out and pulled him into a hug before turning to me. I melted into the embrace gratefully. Maybe my emotions were still raw from the unexpected heart-to-heart in the treehouse but something about being welcomed so warmly really cracked me right open.

"Thank you so much for dinner," I murmured.

Mrs. Evers squeezed me gently before patting my cheek. "Of course, sweetie. We'll see you next Sunday."

"Is that Charlie?"

The voice coming from the kitchen was familiar but it wasn't until Maria stepped aside that I caught sight of the familiar face.

"Uncle David!"

He wrapped me up in a bear hug so tight my feet lifted off the ground. I laughed, instantly transported back to childhood.

Tana's uncle had been a young teenager when her parents got married, so he had always been more like a really cool older brother to their kids. He was a central fixture in my summer memories, always full of fun stories and game to break the rules with us. He was a mechanic and he'd been the one to teach me and Tana how to drive a stick shift. He'd also insisted we both learn to change a tire (just in case). This was my first time seeing him since I'd gotten back to town.

"Charlie! I heard you were back. Feels just like old times." He tweaked my nose, just like he used to when I was a kid. "How have you been?"

"I've been good." I stumbled over the obvious lie. Surely he'd heard the real reason I was back in town just like everyone else. "Uh, how about you? How"s Tammy?"

His smile faltered. "Oh. Yeah that didn't work out. She's engaged to someone else now, actually."

I squeezed his arm. "Sorry to hear that."

"It was for the best. She's really happy now. I don't think marriage is in the cards for me. I'll be the crazy uncle to all the kids you guys have."

"You sound like my friend Retta. I'm pretty sure she has already sworn a vow to buy my kids the loudest and messiest toys she can find."

He huffed out a laugh at that. "Looks like I'll have some competition."

Rix appeared at my elbow then. He gave his uncle a hug before tugging gently on my arm. "The only way to exit is to just make a run for it. Otherwise we might as well pull out the sleeping bags."

Laughing, we snuck out the front door without saying goodbye to anyone else.

* * *

After riding for a few minutes in silence, I perked up when Rix turned onto an unmarked road. His truck swayed from side to side as we drove onto a dirt road that was a combination of rocks and gravel. He had told Tana we were starting a new project today but wouldn't tell me anything when I asked. What kind of project could "we" be starting? Rix had already seen the extent of my home improvement experience. I was still mildly traumatized from being attacked by the porch.

"Where did you say we were going again?"

Rix lifted an eyebrow. "I didn't say. That didn't work the first three times you asked, so why would it work now?"

It was a struggle not to laugh. "Just checking. I never know when I'll catch you slipping."

He rolled his eyes. "And I thought I was bad with surprises."

"Maybe I just want to make sure you aren't taking me off into the creepy woods alone to hide my body."

He finally pulled the truck to a stop in front of an old shed. "If I wanted to hide your body, I'm not sure that would be possible anywhere in The Ridge. This may look remote but there are probably multiple nosy neighbors staring at us right now. Which is why we need to move quickly before Mrs. Donald realizes we're out here and invites us in for tea or something."

"Mrs. Donald?"

He pointed over his shoulder. When I looked, I recognized the barn in the distance. Of course. We were on the other side of the land we usually used for bonfires.

"The Donalds live right there. When I needed a place to store my stuff, Mr. Donald said I could use this old shed."

There was a padlock on the doors of the shed which he unlocked with a key from his ring. Then he turned to me with a grin. "I brought you here so we could pick up some tools."

He disappeared inside and against my better judgment, I followed. It was a fairly large space but there wasn't much walking room because everywhere I looked was stacked with boxes. The air was stale and smelled like paint and dust.

"Is this all your stuff?"

Rix shook his head. "No. Mr. Donald has some stuff in here and I think his kids left some stuff behind also. This is me over here."

I followed him to the back corner where there was a folding table with a circular saw on it and a bunch of boxes stacked underneath. He started pulling things out of one of the boxes and setting them aside.

"I just need to find… here it is."

I raised my eyebrows. "A sledgehammer?"

Rix stood. "I know just how to cheer you up. We're going to start a new project today.

"We? I thought the whole point of this was that you were going to be doing all the work. Sounds like you're trying to get your rent for free."

Rix laughed heartily. "Grab that tile cutter over there."

I walked over to what I thought he was talking about. "This thing?"

When I leaned down to pick it up, my foot hit one of the boxes that was covered in a drop cloth. It slipped off to reveal a canvas leaning up against the box underneath.

I knelt down to get a closer look at the painting. It was a landscape but unlike any I'd ever seen before. The colors in the sky were more like explosions than the typical colors of a sunset. It was like looking at a picture of the world on fire.

"Wow. Where did you get this?"

Rix hurried over and draped the drop cloth back over the canvas. "That's nothing."

"Wait–"

"We need to go if we're going to start this today. I don't have time to waste fucking around."

Stung by his sudden brusque demeanor, I stood up. That was when I saw a set of brushes on the ground under the folding table. I put a hand over my heart. Now that I was looking there were other clues that my eyes had skipped right over. The can of paint thinner on the table. The stained drop cloths wadded up in the corner covered in paint. Most notably the uncomfortable look on Rix's face.

"Rix, did you paint that?"

He shrugged. He still wouldn't look at me. I wasn't sure why he was being so weird but I was so shocked that I was speaking before I could really think.

"I had no idea you could paint like that. I guess I should have figured at least one of you would inherit your mom's talent. How come I've never seen this before?"

He grabbed an empty box and started loading the tools he'd pulled out into it. "I don't know."

"The colors were amazing. It looked so real. You should be selling those. That was better than some of the art I've seen in galleries in New York. I bet you'd make a ton of money if you had a show."

Rix slammed the box down on the table. "Making money isn't everybody's goal, Charlie. Some of us are perfectly happy with what we have."

Shocked by his nasty tone of voice, I took a step back. "I didn't mean that–"

"Or do you think art is only worth something if it has a price tag on it? Everything doesn't need a Wall Street valuation. I would think you had learned that money isn't everything by now."

The words hit me like a slap in the face.

By the expression on Rix's face, I could tell he felt the impact just as surely as I did.

I turned and walked out, not stopping until I reached the tailgate of his truck. The sun was perched low in the sky and since there was barely any breeze it felt like a furnace. But I sure as hell wasn't going back in that stupid shed to ask Rix to turn on the air conditioning in the truck. I'd walk back to town first. Maybe I'd end up passing out from heat stroke, but at least I wouldn't have anyone throwing my mistakes in my face.

If that was what I'd wanted, I could have stayed in Manhattan.

What was that all about anyway? I was trying to give him a compliment. That was the thing with Rix, he was like a wounded animal, liable to lash out and bite you even when you were just trying to help him. Maybe it was time for me to acknowledge that he didn't want my help, and who was I to think I had help to offer anyway? I was the one with all the problems. I was the one with the fractured family and the ramshackle house that seemed determined to maim me.

Who was I to try to help anyone?

The sound of boots crunching on the grass was my only warning before Rix leaned up against the side of the truck next to me.

"I'm sorry," he said finally.

For a few tense moments, we just stood in silence listening to the sounds of the land, the random calls of birds in the surrounding trees and the chirp of crickets in the grass. I wasn't even sure what to say, especially since his apology was about as nonspecific as it could get. What exactly was he sorry for?

Sorry that I liked his painting?

Sorry for insinuating I was a materialistic bitch?

Sorry for being an asshole?

There were so many choices I could probably just take my pick. Either way I wasn't sure I really wanted to forgive him. Maybe we should just go home and forget this whole stupid thing.

"Come on, I said I was sorry."

I turned to him. "Talking to you is like walking on eggshells. I don't even get why you would be mad at me for…what? Liking your painting?"

He kicked at the dirt with the toe of his boot. "My art is something that I don't really talk about. To anyone."

I still didn't get how that translated to blowing up because I liked it. It wasn't like I was being nosy and invaded his privacy. He was the one who'd brought me here in the first place.

"Okay. We don't have to talk about it. I just don't get why being good at something would be some big secret."

He pulled down the tailgate to his truck. "I"m a handyman, Charlie. People hire me to paint fences, not murals."

I watched as he disappeared back into the shed and then came out a few seconds later with a brown box. He put it on the ground briefly so he could lock the shed again. The whole time I couldn't get his words out of my head.

What did that even mean? Did that mean he wanted to paint murals and felt like he couldn't?

I thought about all the things Rix did to help others in town, like helping Mr. Donald maintain his property and rescuing cats from trees despite not even being with the fire department anymore. He did all these things for others but it sounded like he didn't have much time to do things he wanted to do for himself.

It was unsettling how much I related to that feeling. I loved my family so much and I would never describe my feelings for them as an obligation. But could I really deny that my life would look very different if I wasn't always trying to do what I thought was best for them?

I would have never moved to New York.

My degree would definitely not be in finance.

But the most worrisome thing was that I wasn't exactly sure what I wanted my life to look like. I just knew it wouldn't be the life I'd lived the past ten years.

When Rix was about to close the tailgate, I put my hand over his. His eyes jumped to mine. I was struck by how vulnerable he seemed. This wasn't a side I was used to seeing of him. He was always so confident and seemed like he didn't care about what anyone thought. But it occurred to me that maybe he was doing the same thing I was, putting one foot in front of the other because he didn't know what else to do.

"I understand why you don't tell people. When something is personal, it's not easy to talk about."

I could tell he was uncomfortable with the direction our conversation had taken, so I decided to switch gears.

Pointing at the tile cutter, I said, "Just FYI, I'm not carrying any of this stuff inside. I"ve already got a scar on my leg from when the porch tried to kill me, the last thing I need is to drop one of these tools on my foot."

Rix's face broke into a smile. "Fine. But only because I know you're about to put in some work when we get home."

After he closed the tailgate, we climbed inside the truck. As soon as he turned it on the air conditioning came blasting out. I sighed in relief.

"Hey Rix?"

He glanced over at me.

"People would hire you to paint murals if they knew you could do that."

He swallowed hard. "That was one painting. My others are different. What if they're not good enough?"

"I guess we'll never know," I replied softly.

* * *

When we arrived at the house, Miss Pauline waved from her yard.

Rix leaned over. "We have to move fast otherwise we'll get pulled into another conversation about Agatha Kitty or which relatives haven't been to visit lately."

Sure enough, I could see Miss Pauline peering over at us as we got out of the car.

"It's a nice day, isn't it?" Rix called out as he picked up the box of tools from the back of the truck.

Miss Pauline put down the shears she was carrying.

Rix glanced over at me. "She's about to come over. Move your ass, Monroe."

I grabbed my bag from the floor and then hopped out. Rix didn't wait for me so he was already on the porch about to open the front door. Miss Pauline peered at us in confusion, probably wondering why we both looked like we were running from the devil himself.

"Nice to see you, Miss Pauline!" I waved over my shoulder before racing across the lawn.

As soon as I cleared the threshold, Rix closed the door behind me.

"I feel kind of bad. Maybe we should go visit tomorrow." Miss Pauline probably didn't have many people to talk to. It sounded like her husband wasn't doing that well and her only other company was her cat.

Rix dropped the box on the kitchen counter. "I visited her yesterday. Before it was all over, I'd changed three light bulbs, dug up the weeds in her side yard and checked in her attic because she heard a noise."

I covered my mouth with my hand. "You're a good Samaritan."

He scowled. "I'm a sucker. I finally got the hell out of there before she decided to ask me to unclog a toilet or something. Or worse, invited her friends over."

The mental image of Rix being ordered around by all the town's octogenarians was too much and I finally succumbed to laughter.

"Yeah keep laughing and I won't let you do the fun part."

I bit my lip. "What's the fun part?"

He handed me the sledgehammer and then a pair of safety glasses before walking toward the stairs. I followed him upstairs to the bathroom. He put on his safety glasses so I did, too. Then he held up another sledgehammer.

"How many of these do you have–"

Before I could finish my sentence, he lifted it over his head and swung it down to the floor. Tiles went flying like confetti. I shrieked in surprise and jumped back.

"Rix! What the hell?!"

He burst into laughter. Even though my heart was still racing, I started laughing too.

"You're absolutely insane!" I finally managed to say through my laughter. "You can't just start smashing stuff!"

"Why not? You hate this bathroom."

I blinked. "Well, yeah."

He pointed at the tiled counter. "You don't need to use as much force on these but it's still fun. Try it."

Tentatively, I picked up my sledgehammer and brought it down on the tiles near the edge. They didn't fly in every direction but they split with a satisfying crack.

Rix pointed at the rest. "Just be careful around the sink area. I'm going to save as much of the cabinet and fixtures as possible."

With that, he went back to work. For the next few minutes, the only sound was the satisfying crack of tiles and the weird little grunt Rix made every time he swung his sledgehammer. About halfway through, he left and came back with another tool that he used to lift and pry away the broken tiles.

I had finished about half of the counter, leaving the part around the sink for last.

We were both covered in dust and sweating like pigs but by the time we finished, I was no longer thinking about New York, mistakes or the treehouses I'd never had.

"Okay time for a break." Rix abandoned the tool in his hands and sat on the floor.

I looked around at our progress. Without the tiles, the room looked so…naked.

Considering how dusty I was already, I figured sitting on the floor could only do so much harm at this point. I plopped down on a bare section.

"I can't believe we just did that."

"But you feel better, right?" He leaned back against the wall.

"Yeah. I do." I wiped sweat from my brow.

"Then my work here is done." Rix leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes.

I looked around the destroyed bathroom. Although I'd broken up the tiles on the counter, they still needed to be pulled off. Most of the tiles on the floor were gone but there was still a section near the toilet and tub that hadn't been touched.

It was what Retta would call a flaming hot mess.

I glanced over at Rix. "I'm sorry I disappeared like that at dinner. I hope your parents don't think I was rude."

He kicked at a piece of tile that was near his foot. "Nah, it was fine. Everyone kind of just hangs out doing whatever after dinner is over."

"I was surprised to see that treehouse was still there. But I shouldn't have been. Your dad built that to last."

Rix chuckled. "He rebuilt part of it when Campbell was born. I'm sure he'll rebuild it again now that Van and Beth have given them some hope of seeing grandkids soon. They know they probably aren't getting any from me or Santana. We're the heathens."

I shook my head. "You would be a good dad. I was thinking that earlier."

His foot stilled and his eyes lifted to meet mine. "No, you weren't."

"You were really good with Beck. It's obvious how much he looks up to you. I was thinking that you'd be just as great with your own kids."

Rix looked away then but his pleasure at the statement was obvious in the flush that appeared on his cheeks. "I don't know about that. I'd be defeated the first time they asked for help with their homework."

"Well, maybe your wife is good with homework. You would teach them how to fix stuff, how to make blanket forts and how to roast s'mores. You'd carry them on your shoulders, you know that thing dads do? But you'd be there. Every single day."

His eyes were intense now as he looked at me directly. "Why were you really hiding out up there? And don't say it was the noise. You've been right in the middle of Evers family chaos since you were a kid."

I closed my eyes. I couldn't talk to him while he was looking at me like that.

"Everyone was so happy. Van and Beth. Your parents. Even Santana is giddy over this secret guy she's seeing. And I'm just the bitter friend who can't stand being around all that happiness."

When he didn't say anything, I peeked through one eye. He was still staring straight at me but I couldn't figure out what message his eyes were sending.

"With everything going on, it just kind of hit me today that my family is never going to be the same. And let's face it, my mom definitely has a type. A French accent is her kryptonite. My dad is from a prominent Creole family in Louisiana."

"New Orleans?" he asked.

"Yup. Laissez les bon temps rouler."

His eyebrows shot up. "You speak French?"

"Just well enough to know that I did not fit in there. Then there's husband number two. Billie's dad is the son of French ex-pats who spend their time attending five thousand dollar per plate galas and looking down their noses at everyone. With my luck, my next sibling will be across the border and I'll never even see them. I feel like I should warn the men of Montreal."

Rix cracked up. "Don't forget about Quebec."

I thunked my head against the wall. "How could I forget? Why am I even talking about this? I need to stop worrying about what might happen. I wish I could be more like you."

He snorted. "Why? Because I don't give a fuck about anything, right?"

"Yeah. I could use a little more of that."

"I care more than you think," he muttered.

As if the sudden weight of the conversation got too heavy, he stood and surveyed the room. "Well, I guess that's enough for today."

I stood too. "What, just leave it like this?"

"Yeah. I can finish it up tomorrow. Unless you want to keep going?" He gave me a long look. "Maybe we should. You know, you have a lot of rage in you."

"You bring out the worst in me." I smiled sweetly.

He moved closer and tipped his head down before kissing the tip of my nose. "It's a gift."

He paused then and I could see the question in his eyes. My heart tripped a beat.

What was he doing?

But as he stared into my eyes, I nodded slowly. His head dipped again and his lips brushed over mine. Just once before he rested his forehead against mine.

By mutual unspoken agreement, we'd been operating like roommates by day and only acknowledged our new agreement to be lovers at night. We weren't kissing in the kitchen or holding hands as we walked down the street.

But this, this was different. Everything about today had been different. And I wasn't sure what to make of that.

I plastered a big, fake smile on. "I'd better go take the dog out again."

He watched me with knowing eyes before he nodded.

"I'll clean up a little in here so we can still use the bathroom without stepping on broken tiles."

"Okay."

I didn't dare look at him as I left the room.

* * *

By the time he came downstairs, I was just coming back in. I unclipped Meatball's leash and he barreled over to Rix to sniff his ankles.

He leaned down to give the dog a few scratches behind the ear before he stood back up. "So, are you busy right now?"

I arched an eyebrow. "Why? Because if you need more help with bathroom demo, then yes I am very busy."

"No more bathroom demo. There's something I want to show you."

"Okay…"

He walked outside leaving me standing in the middle of the room. I went over to the front window and watched as he approached the bed of his truck. He rummaged for a bit before he stood back up holding his toolbox.

When he turned around, I scampered back so he wouldn't see me in the window. I sat on the floor and gave Meatball some kisses when he climbed in my lap. The door opened and Rix appeared.

"Here we go," he said before dropping the toolbox on the floor next to me with a thump.

I gasped when he took out the top layer of the toolbox to reveal the compartment underneath. It was stuffed with paper.

No, not paper. Receipts.

"What in the world…"

Tentatively I reached out and picked up a random receipt. It was faded and crumpled like it had been through the washing machine. Or run over by a truck.

Or both.

"Rix, what is this?" I asked, even though I already had a pretty good suspicion.

He wouldn't meet my eyes. "My filing system."

I put a hand to my chest. "I was afraid you were going to say that."

"I told you I needed help."

"You did. And you definitely weren't exaggerating."

He squatted down next to me. "I wasn't exaggerating about any of it. Not about you being a part of our family or about how much this town needs you. The question is what do you want? If you imagine your ideal future, what do you see?"

"When I was a little girl, I used to have this recurring dream about when I'd live here with my own family."

I hugged Meatball tighter. He licked my chin like he could sense my discomfort.

"The same dream every time?"Rix asked gently.

"Not at first. In the beginning I was just reacting to the things Gran Grace said. She'd say ‘one day you'll have a husband and kids of your own' or ‘one day when I'm gone you'll live here with your family'. After awhile I started having these dreams about the life I'd have."

He smiled. "And what kind of life did childhood Charlie dream of?"

"Nothing big. My kids are running around the backyard and the wind is blowing the scent of the honeysuckle all around me. What I remember most is just being happy."

"You can have that dream, Charlie. You have a place in Violet Ridge if you want it. I think that's the real reason your Gran left you this house."

"You think?"

His words touched me more than I could express. The idea that ending up here wasn't some horrible accident but where I was supposed to be was a comforting thought. Like maybe I wasn't completely screwing everything up.

Rix smirked, like he could tell that I wanted to run. The smug bastard had always known exactly how to push my buttons, except this time he was punching me right in the heart.

"You have roots here that run deep. This town, these people, this mess of a house –this is your legacy. Gran Grace knew where you belonged."

My eyes welled up with tears. He didn't even know it but he was giving me a puzzle piece I'd spent my whole life searching for. This was my Gran's house. But it was my home.

I turned my head and because we were so close, his lips brushed over my forehead. When he didn't pull back, I looked up. His eyes were wary. Hopeful.

"I finally know where I belong, too."