Page 18 of Major Love

“Jason?” she replies, glancing shyly up at me from under her lashes, a tentative smile on her lips as she places her palms on the wooden counter behind her.

And that’s all that it takes for me to immediately start moving, tossing the bags of gravel beside the doorjamb so that I’m unencumbered and my hands are free. Her smile grows wider and I can’t fight back my own grin, warmth spreading through my chest at the realisation that she’s happy to see me.

It’s been over a decade, and Sunday’s still happy to see me.

I’m barely three feet away from her when my boots kick something out of the way, and I glance down at the floor as her boots go flying across the living room.

“Shit,” I murmur, trudging over to the couch so that I can pick up her cowgirl boots. Then I swallow quietly as I make my way back over to her, only meeting her eyes after I’ve set the pretty boots next to the front door.

“Sorry,” I rumble, rubbing at the back of my neck and breathing out an embarrassed laugh.

She looks up at me with a dimpled smile, shaking her head gently as she laughs.

And then we’re carefully searching each other’s eyes, not sure where the line is or if we can cross it.

Because the last time that I saw Sunday I was about to graduate high school, and I was holding her in my truck after one of the worst nights of her life.

The night she lost one of the people she loved most, and, as a result, I did too.

Because her losing him meant that I lost her.

I glance down at the front of my jacket, the rain making it stick tight against my chest. Then I look down at what Sunday’s wearing.

A baby blue robe and matching pyjamas.

Pyjama shorts, to be exact. And they’re really… short ones.

I keep my breathing even as I bring my eyes back to hers.

It wouldn’t be appropriate to hug her like that. The second she touches my work gear she’s going to get soaked.

And, for all I know, she could have a boyfriend. A husband.

I run a hand through my hair, pushing back the rainwater as I look down at her.

“Thought you were in Nashville,” I admit, eyes dropping to her robe as she refastens it.

And when I get a glimpse of those shorts, I look as far away from them as possible.

She blinks up at me in surprise, that beautiful smile softening her expression. “Did Casey tell you where I was?”

I smile at that. “Case didn’t tell me.”

Doesn’t matter how long it’s been. I remember everything that you ever said to me.

The second that her mom met Cash Anders, it was Sunday’s dream to move to Nashville.

We watch each other in silence, and then she bites her lower lip, as if weighing her next words carefully.

“I was in Nashville, but some stuff came up. I’m just taking a little time away.”

“A vacation?” I ask, a frown touching my brow.

A vacation in Phoenix Falls?That sounds too good to be true.

“Something like that,” she says huskily, with a pretty swish of those soft blonde curls. Then she looks at the gravel I just hauled into the doorway, and flicks her eyes to mine, a question in her expression. “What areyoudoing here?”

I jerk my chin in the direction of Casey’s back yard, my eyes never leaving Sunday’s as I stand over her.

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