Page 99 of Until Then

It occurs to me then that, as worried as I’ve been about Layla pulling back from me, I haven’t asked Izzy how this is affecting her relationship with my daughter. They’re friends and her being with me could ruin that.

If I were a better man, I wouldn’t have let it get this far. I never would have laid a hand on her, but I don’t regret it. Izzy makes my heart race for the first time in a long time. It’s like I was living in pastels—my life, my surroundings, were fine, but muted—and then she came along and painted my world in technicolor.

They talk for a good five minutes before Izzy starts back to the house and Layla reverses out of the driveway.

Quickly, I back away from the window, nearly tripping over my own feet as I go, rushing to make it to the couch before she catches me.

Izzy gives me a confused frown as she comes in.

Locking the door, she asks, “You were spying, weren’t you?”

“No,” I lie, my heart still racing.

“Liar.” Her soft laughter carries on the air as she plops onto the couch beside me.

“How’d it go?”

She gives me a small smile. “I think it went okay. It’s going to be awkward for a while, but I’m hopeful we can move past it.”

My chest constricts. I hope for that, too.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” She stifles a yawn. “We’ll get there. She just needs time.”

I give her a gentle tug, pulling her onto my lap and guiding her to straddle me.

“If you wanted to get me on top of you, all you had to do was ask.”

A chuckle escapes me. “I like this way more.”

Wrapping her arms around my neck, she presses her forehead to mine. “I have a confession to make.”

My first instinct is to panic. A confession? That could be a concern.

When she doesn’t go on, I swallow back my nerves and ask, “What is it?”

“I’m falling hard for you.” She pulls back, catching her lip between her teeth. “I hope that’s okay.”

I smooth my hands down her sides and settle them on her hips. “Only if it’s okay that I’m right there with you?”

Rather than answer with words, she leans in and presses her lips to mine. And when I carry her up to my room, we say even more with our bodies.

28

DERRICK

“The lighthouse?”Izzy asks when I stop the truck. “What are we doing here?”

As I unbuckle my seat belt, I turn the key in the ignition. “It’s a rite of passage for locals to climb the lighthouse stairs.”

“But I’m not technically a local.” She peers up at me, fighting a smile, humor shimmering in her eyes.

“You’re an honorary local,” I say. Then, after a moment of hesitation, I add, “And you could be, if you wanted.” The moment the words are out, my lungs seize. I’m frozen where I am, waiting to see what she might say.

“I’m going to talk to a realtor soon about selling my place in LA.” She stretches her fingers out in front of her. “The idea of going back doesn’t make me happy. Canceled or not.”

My heart pinches at that word. “Are you still canceled?”

---