Ivey Pierce is an explorer, and thanks to her career as a wildlife biologist, she does not stay stationary for long. But when her parents die in a terrible accident, and her childhood home is left vacant for two years, she returns to the tattered me...
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I STARED AT THE tiny piece of cardboard between my fingers.
Weston joined me inside the house, his eyes bright. "I thought that was long gone."
"You lost this?"
He reached for me, but instead of taking the missing piece, he laced his fingers with my free hand and pulled me deeper into the house. My stomach bottomed out from his touch, but I was too drunk to register how good the connection felt before he let go.
We stood in the doorway of a dark room, and he turned on the light, revealing a dining space. Laying in the center of the table under the chandelier was Van Gogh's' Starry Night puzzle.
"I thought it was a faulty puzzle. I was close to contacting the company, but I'm glad I didn't because you found it."
I bit my lip to stifle my laughter. Not because I was shocked he built puzzles for fun, but because of how adorable he looked talking about them, and it was the last hobby I expected him to have.
"You can do the honors." He motioned to the empty space.
"Really?"
"Yes, really."
Standing behind me, he peered over my shoulder. His body swayed into mine, his chest grazed my back, and I could tell he felt the effects of the alcohol too. Our eyes locked, and he gripped the back of the chair for support.
"Sorry, sorry."
"It's okay."
My lungs burned as I ignored my body's urge to breathe. I could only focus on how close Weston was and how he smelled like wind on a summer night and burnt cedar. Could he hear the cavalry storming through my chest?
"Do you need help finding where to put it?"
I blinked, then laughed, surprised by his humor. The tension between us eased.
"No, I do not. Thank you."
The piece snapped into place, and triumph washed over me. I walked to the opposite side of the table and rested both hands on a chair, needing breathing space.
"A perfect fit."
We ended up in the kitchen with glasses of water. If I had not started sobering up then, I would have been walking or swimming back to my house. The fire still raged on outside, with Masie sleeping beneath.
I rolled up my sleeves and stood at the sink.
"You don't have to do those."
"You cooked dinner. I'll do the dishes."
Without a word, he joined me with a drying towel. The space around us stayed alive from the music despite our silence, and the breeze kept my sweltering body cool as we cleaned like a well-oiled machine. I felt myself gaining more composure. Still, I didn't know how I would sober up to drive, even if it was a two-minute drive around the water's edge.
