Page 76 of Meet Me on Blueberry Hill

After trying for days to talk to Sadie, he realized there was no reason to stay. Time to cut his losses and find another spot of solitude.

Wearing a backward baseball hat over his dark-blond hair, Cody tied up the boat in the marina, and Asher tossed his duffel on the dock next to Cody’s slip.

His stomach nothing but a ball of knots, he held out a hand to Cody. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”

“Sure thing, brother. Take care. And don’t be a stranger.”

Asher smiled but refused to commit. Returning would simply remind him of what he’d lost.

Several hours later, he pulled his rental into his parents’ driveway.

He hadn’t driven in over a year, having remained holed up on his uncle’s ranch.

Part of him wanted to accelerate and keep driving, but no matter how far he went, he wouldn’t escape the disaster of his choices.

Somehow, though, he had to put Jonathon Island and Sadie out of his mind for now.

He climbed out of the black SUV and approached the front door of the brick ranch that had been his home for the first eighteen years of his life. Multicolored flowers grew in decorative pots on the front steps. His mom’s favorite rocker still sat in the corner of the covered porch next to a small table that usually held her cup of tea or novel she was reading. An autumn wreath in reds and golds hung on the front door withWelcome to the Quinnscentered in the middle.

His parents, Noble and Pamela Quinn, welcomed people through the years into their home. Him, not so much. At least, not anymore.

Music and laughter sounded from the backyard. He rounded the house and found his parents’ back deck lit up with strands of lights and candles on small round tables. At least twenty people milled around, drinks in hand, talking and laughing with one another.

The party.

Oh man. With everything that happened with Sadie, he’d forgotten today was his father’s birthday party.

And he wasn’t exactly dressed for a celebration.

He glanced down at faded jeans, beat-up loafers, and wrinkled button-down shirt open over a gray T-shirt.

It would have to do.

Scents of seared steak spiraled toward him, scoring a direct hit with his taste buds.

The party for his dad was in full swing.

Maybe he could stay for a bit.

He removed his sunglasses, hooked them on the collar of his shirt, then crossed the yard to the slim, dark-haired woman wearing a blue floral dress. He tapped her on the shoulder. “Hey, Mom.”

She whirled around. Her blue eyes lit up as she flung her arms around his neck. “Asher, you came!”

Her expensive floral perfume tickled his nose as he buried his face in her neck, careful not to dislodge the clip holding back her hair. “It’s great to see you.”

And he meant it.

His dad, on the other hand, eyed him from his position at the grill but didn’t approach them. He lifted his chin in greeting.

Asher nodded in reply.

Dressed in khakis and a light-blue short-sleeved button-down, his short dark hair combed back, Dad manned the grill at his own party. Was it an excuse not to mingle, which Asher knew his dad hated? Or did he need to control everything?

Including trying to direct Asher’s life. Which was why their conversations had been limited to a few words each year. Usually at Christmas. Although he did send the perfunctory birthday text and received “Thanks” as a reply.

Asher scanned the guests and frowned. “Where’s Abi?”

“She and Blake are running late.”

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