Page 58 of Tides of Change
“Too late for that.” I tried for humor but was unable to shake the weight of my guilt. I glanced at Garrett. “I should go. I don’t want to intrude.”
“No!” Noah piped up, his bright eyes fixed on me. “We’re having burgers for dinner, and Auntie Harper’s making fries! You should stay!”
My gaze darted to Garrett, who shrugged and grinned. “He’s already invited you. Can’t let him down.” He mussed Noah’s hair.
I hesitated, torn between the warmth of being included and the persistent fear of bringing the stalker to the house. Butthe hopeful look on Noah’s face and the casual acceptance in Garrett’s smile tipped the scales. “Okay,” I said, my voice soft. “Thank you.”
Dinner was noisy and joyful. Noah dominated the conversation with tales of his weekend adventures with Harper—a visit to the library, hot chocolate at The Coffee Cove, and a blanket fort to read in. Harper provided occasional commentary. I found myself pulled into Noah’s orbit, asking questions and laughing at Noah’s animated storytelling. For a moment, the weight I’d been carrying lifted, replaced by the fullness of belonging.
Harper watched my interactions with Noah and Garrett with a smirk that only grew as the evening went on. When dinner was done and we were clearing the dishes, I lingered at the table, unsure whether to help clean up or play with Noah in the living room. Then I heard Harper’s teasing voice from the kitchen.
“I like him,” she said, light but pointed. “He’s good for you.”
Garrett quietly mumbled his agreement.
My cheeks heated. I wasn’t used to being the subject of approval. But her words settled something inside me, a quiet reassurance that I hadn’t entirely misstepped by staying for dinner.
Harper lingered long enough for Garrett to walk me home. The cool night air was a welcome relief after the warmth of the house, but the silence between us was charged with the significance of the day.
I approached my porch with trepidation, but I breathed a quiet sigh of relief when there was no “gift” waiting for me. Had we escaped the stalker by leaving town?
Garrett turned to me and cupped my jaw with strong fingers. “I had a great day with you. And thanks for staying for dinner,” he said, low and husky. “It meant a lot to Noah.”
I met his gaze, the sincerity in his eyes making it hard to breathe. “It meant a lot to me, too.”
He took a step closer, and his lips met mine. The kiss was soft and unhurried, the fitting end to a day of belonging. When we finally pulled apart, Garrett’s smile was small but teasing. “Now get your ass inside and lock the door.”
I chuckled. “Yes, sir.”
As I threw the deadbolt and armed my alarm, I knew I was in trouble in a way no security system could save me from.
My feelings for Garrett Whitlock, with his tender heart and fierce protectiveness, were growing stronger by the moment.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Garrett
My car’s tires crunched over gravel as I pulled into the parking lot at the ark. The towering trees framed the lot like silent sentinels. Noah and I had walked this easy loop trail many times over the years, his small hand in mine as we marveled at banana slugs and chased the echoes of birdcalls.
Noah.The thought of him tightened my chest, guilt worming its way in. Another weekend apart. Another missed adventure with my boy. I could picture his eager face as he’d climbed into Ava’s parents’ car last night, bundled in his puffer jacket and gripping his mittens. He’d been so excited about the trip to their cabin in Tahoe, giddy at the chance to see snowflakes dust the world in white. I’d hugged him fiercely before he left, breathing in the scent of his shampoo and telling myself it was okay—he deserved that fun, even if it meant the house felt emptier.
But my guilt wasn’t just about Noah. A part of it, if I was being honest, stemmed from the anticipation humming in my chest. Spending the weekend with Ethan was something I’d looked forward to all week. He’d made significant progress on his book and taken the day off, something I knew didn’t come easily.
I glanced at him across the console, his profile lit by a shaft of sunlight breaking through the clouds. His jawline was strong, his short beard neatly trimmed, and his expression relaxed. I reached over and squeezed his thigh, firm under my hand. “Thanks for coming with me.”
He turned toward me. “Looking forward to it. It’s nice to get out of the house.” His lips curved into a teasing smile. “Oh, and to spend time with you, I guess,” he added with a wink.
I laughed, a low snort that broke the quiet, but inside, his words warmed me.
We climbed out of the car, the cool, damp air wrapping around us as we made our way toward the grove. His hand found mine, fingers lacing together in a way that felt both new and natural. A couple walking their dog gave us a sidelong glance, but I kept my chin high and refused to let their judgment touch the quiet joy buzzing between us. Fudge them.
Under the towering canopy, the temperature dipped. The air smelled of pine and rich, damp earth, with a hint of bay leaf that made me inhale deeply. A woodpecker’s rhythmic tapping echoed, answered by the mournful cry of a dove somewhere deep in the grove.
We started down the well-worn trail, our pace unhurried. This wasn’t a hike to conquer, but a chance to soak in the towering redwoods and, more importantly, each other. I pointed out a banana slug inching through a patch of redwood sorrel, its vibrant yellow standing out against the green. Ethan glanced at it but seemed distracted, his gaze distant as if he were somewhere else entirely.
“What’s on your mind?” I asked, my voice low and laced with concern.
He rubbed his hand along his short beard. I recognized it as a sign he was weighing his words. “I hate taking you away from Noah,” he said finally, quiet but heavy. “I want to find the stalkerso you and your son can spend your weekends together, without this hanging over you.”
