Page 67 of Where You Left Me

“Good. Happy you s-said that.”

I lift my brows and smile, my worries slipping away.

“Because we need you to s-s-seriously think about your plans of taking over the business,” he says, his expression serious, with his wiry brows pinched together.

It feels as if a rock has landed in my gut. “I mean, I know we’ve talked about it before and that was the plan. But that was a long time ago. Before…before I left.”

He nods and his jaw clenches. Like maybe he’s trying to choose his next words carefully since they’re harder to get out these days. “It’s still the plan,” his words rush out.

Fear etches in my mind. “But what if I’m not planning on coming back to stay?”

He waves me off. “You’ll be back.”

“Dad,” I stretch out his name.

“You were born for this, s-sweetie.”

How is he so sure? Most days when I’m working, I feel like I’ve forgotten everything I used to know when I was the managerhere. I guess that’s what dads do. They have confidence in their kids, sometimes when they don’t have any in themselves.

“You’re s-strong. And yes, stubborn too.” He grins.

I smile along with him because he’s not wrong. I get my strength from him. It’s obvious by how much he’s improved since the stroke.

Nodding, I drop my chin to my chest so he can’t see the tears building. The compliment wasn’t necessary, though it was appreciated. Knowing he’s not only grateful I’ve been here and helping this summer, but proud of me makes my head swim.

“Hey?” he calls.

I cautiously lift my head.

“And you love him.”

My brows shoot up and I choke on my own spit. “Excuse me?”

“J-J-Jones.”

Now I’m the one waving him off. Because while I do love Jones, I don’t love him in the way a person does when they commit to being their partner forever. Even if deep down I know there’s no one else for me.

“I’ll think about it, Dad,” I finally say.

We takean early evening drive out to the private lake near Rosie’s cabin. This is something Jones and I did often while we were dating. It was a chance for us to be alone together. To reconnect. To justbe.

I love my parents and our friends, but all the noise, the opinions, the watchful eyes, it’s too much pressure. Jones and I need a moment to play catch up. To see how we are together.

Some of our best, most intimate conversations have been in Jones’s truck, on a hike, or on a bike ride, or sitting by the lake.

Jones keeps glancing my way every two seconds as we get closer to the lake. The grin he flashes me is so darn cute my heart is at risk of exploding in my chest. He reaches out his hand and I slip mine into it. It’s easy. Comfortable. And it’s scary as hell. The way we fell back into our old rhythm is terrifying. Leaving him will be even harder the second time.

We reach the lake and I’m relieved when no one else is here. Even though this lake is private, it doesn’t always keep people away. Especially if the nearby lakes are crowded. It’s as if suddenly people don’t know how to read the “Private Property” signs.

Jones cuts the engine of the truck. Instantly, the heat from outside fills the cab. Even with the windows down, it’s too hot. I’m regretting not wearing my bathing suit underneath my clothes.

“This has got to be the hottest day all summer,” I complain, swiping the sheen of sweat off my forehead.

“Record-breaking,” Jones replies.

“I think it’s gonna be too hot to talk in here.”

“How about we table our conversation and go swimming instead?” Jones suggests.

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