Page 92 of Heart Set on You

“I’m glad. And I’m here to help you in any way I can.”

“I know, Miles. Thank you.”

We reach the end of the path as the farm and the house come into view. Rylee stops, pulling her phone out of her pocket. “Can we take a picture?”

“Absolutely.” I want to remember this moment with her. A moment of bliss, pure happiness, love, before she slips away from me again when I board that plane in just a few short hours.

We turn our backs to the farm and Rylee’s childhood home. I pull her to my side, clinging to her a little tighter, not wanting to leave her. I catch the scent of the beach that is so her. I close my eyes quickly. I haven’t left and I already miss her. It’s a beautiful pain.

I take it all in… tall grass, field flowers and my country girl with her arm wrapped tightly around my waist. Rylee snaps a photo. And another. Before she snaps the last photo I drop my lips to hers and kiss her. When I pull back from the kiss, she’s glowing, a big smile on her face. It’s how I always want her to look – like she’s right where she belongs. With me.

“Hey, Ryls…?”

“Yes, Miles?”

“You’ve changed everything for me.”

“Everything?”

“My priorities. My entire life. All the things I need to be happy. You are what I want most.”

She goes up on her toes but doesn’t kiss me. Instead, she cups my face and gazes steadily into my eyes.

Like I’ve given her the moon. Or maybe like she’s just as in love with me as I am with her. My skin tingles. My heart skips a beat. Then she sweeps her lips against mine.

We walk the rest of the way back to the house, and I go upstairs and pack. Later, she drives me to the airport, and right before my plane is to take off, my phone vibrates with a message.

It’s from Rylee. It’s the photo of us we took today on the farm. The last one – the kissing one.

She follows the photo with a text. My everything.

My smile is instant. I fall for her even harder.

Twenty minutes later I’m on the plane, staring out the window as Deer Lake vanishes from view.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Rylee

I’m going through the motions: breakfast, the market, taking Belle to school, making my grandparents lunch, doing a few loads of laundry. Later in the day I go to the cemetery. I bring my momma petunias, her favorite, laying them on her tombstone and place a painted rock that Belle made on my father’s. I sit in the grass, filling them in on Gran and Gramps and my photography. I tell them how I quit my job and moved back home to be with our family. I tell them about Miles and how I think I’m in love.

The thought of them never meeting him crushes me. I wish they could see how talented and sweet he is, how witty and charming and handsome. I want so badly for them to know how much he loves Deer Lake, and Gran and Gramps. My momma, I bet, would get a kick out of the fact that he’s a Hollywood movie star. My daddy would only care that he was treating his little girl right.

I spend a little more time under the sun, breathing in the clean, warm Tennessee air. Memories of my parents and my two older brothers and I flood my mind. Like the time my daddy tried to teach the three of us kids how to fix a flat tire or the time my momma drove me into Nashville to get my ears pierced.

Sometimes it still hurts to think about those happy times together, but usually the memories bring me comfort. I came to terms with my parents passing a long time ago. I found a way to move on.

My phone buzzes in my pocket but I ignore it, not ready for the memories to fade just yet. For a minute I can hear my daddy’s voice and my momma’s laugh. Closing my eyes, I allow myself to get lost in this walk down memory lane. It’s peaceful and calm and quiet, except for the faint sound of the breeze through the tall grass. I suddenly feel so tired, and decide to give into it, lying back and letting sleep pull me under.

When I wake up I’m surprised to see that 45 minutes has passed. Gran and Gramps were at a church function this afternoon and I told them I would cook dinner. I rush home and head immediately to the kitchen, chopping the vegetables I need for the stew and getting a start on the dumplings. I set the lid on top of the pot so it can simmer just as my grandparents walk through the front door.

Once dinner is done, and the dishes have been cleared my gran and gramps settle in to watch an episode of Jeopardy and I finally have a free minute to dig my phone out of my pocket and check my messages. Miles. He’s texted a few times. He’s missing me, he’s written. His day was long.

I walk outside to the porch and call him.

“Hey Ry,” he answers, and I smile. His voice is exactly the sound I needed to hear.

“I got your message. I was going to text you then changed my mind. Hearing your voice is better.”

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