Page 124 of The Lost Book of First Loves

“We’ve got this,” Beck said, giving her a compassionate look.

“I’ll stay and help Grandma clean up while you two go look.”

“We can help clean up first,” June said.

Loretta waved her arm. “Go. We’ve got this. It won’t take us longer than ten minutes.”

Beck led the way toward the room he knew was Carson’s. Considered the owner’s suite, the room was huge, with a sitting area in front of a river-rock fireplace and a massive bathroom. Dominating the space was a large four-poster bed. It looked as it must have the day he died, with stacks of books on his side table and a favorite sweater over the arm of one of the chairs.

June sat down on the sofa, looking lost again.

“Are you okay?”

“No. Not really. It’s all so much.”

She released a heavy breath. “I like Loretta. She’s wonderful. But I don’t understand how she can immediately accept the situation and embrace me like I’m her long-lost granddaughter.”

“Maybe because you are?”

She rubbed her temples in a gesture that reminded him of one of Carson’s mannerisms. “What if I’m not, though? What if it’s all a mistake and the new DNA tests prove otherwise? I don’t want her to be hurt by the whole thing.”

He suddenly realized that while she was concerned about Loretta’s feelings, she was also worried about her own. June was afraid to believe, afraid of the disappointment that might be on the other side.

She looked so lost and afraid, this bright, talented, self-assured woman, that he couldn’t help himself. He sat beside her on the sofa, reached out and pulled her into his arms.

She was stiff for an instant, muscles taut, then she seemed to sag against him, and her arms came around his neck.

She was trembling slightly and he tightened his hold, wanting to give her his heat and his comfort and his strength.

Finally, she eased away with a tremulous smile. “Thank you for everything you’ve done the past few days. You’ve been a rock, Beck.”

Her eyes looked huge and luminous, a sheen of tears she refused to shed. As he looked at her, Beck felt all the walls he had built so carefully around his emotions crumble into dust.

He wanted to be more than a rock to her. He wanted to be this woman’s friend, her lover, her everything.

He knew he shouldn’t want it, that the timing was abysmal. Her life was in complete disarray.

It was too late, though.

He released her so that he didn’t compound his mistakes by kissing her again.

“Let’s find your father’s missing manuscript.”

She gave a small laugh and wiped at her face. “You make it sound so easy.”

With any luck, it would be. She deserved to have one thing be easy, didn’t she?

“I’ll go through the closet,” he said. “You can start out here.”

Chapter 42

Juniper

She had been sorting through Carson Wells’s personal writings since Beck and Ali gave her the first journals. She felt she knew the man. But somehow, being here in his bedroom, touching the neat stacks of socks and jeans and flannel shirts, felt so much more intimate.

She again wished she had been given the chance to meet him during his lifetime. Even if she hadn’t been aware there was a chance he might be her father, she would have loved having a conversation with him, listening to his insights into the world and his wisdom.

They had been looking for about twenty minutes when Beck emerged from the walk-in closet. “Anything look promising?”

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