STRONG HANDS CARESSED her belly, and a deep voice whispered something she didn’t quite catch in her ear. The something was enough to make her stomach do an excited little flip-flop and the hairs on her nape stir in anticipation. He was warm beside her, smelling of sandalwood with just a hint of something spicy. His arms and back were smooth to her touch, warm and hard, and she couldn’t get enough of running her hands over him.
It was all so familiar. God, she had missed this. She arched her back, wanting his touch on her breasts. Oh, and he needed to do more than whisper sweet nothings in her ear.
Mara stretched her arms over her head, and the feel of the cold iron bed frame against her hands jolted her quickly out of the dream. The images were slow to leave. She and James had been entwined on silken sheets, and the headboard had been a rich, smooth wood with intricately carved spindles instead of the iron of her childhood bed.
The coverlet rich and velvety like that bed in the suite in Nashville instead of the soft cotton of one of her grandmother’s quilts.
Entwined like they’d been in Nashville.
Nothing at all like what was going on now in Slippery Rock, where James just wanted to be her friend. Where James wanted to be Zeke’s dad, and her friend. Where Mara couldn’t stop reacting to the sound of his voice or the friendly brush of his hand against hers, and where that angry kiss they’d shared when she’d first arrived threw her into dreams she hadn’t had for the better part of eight months.
She shot a glance toward the Pack ’n Play in the corner. Zeke still rested peacefully. She sat up, shook her head and slid her legs over the side of the bed, letting her toes squeeze the thickly piled lavender shag rug. Sunlight streamed through the windows, the gauzy lavender-checked curtains she’d insisted on for her senior year in high school doing little to dissipate the strong light. Lavender-and-blue flowers were painted just above the headboard, and her favorite owls, again in lavender and blue, sat on the bedside table. She’d found them in a wedding store and convinced Gran she needed them.
The familiarity was nice, if a bit weird. Most of her assignments for Cannon Security entailed staying in blandly furnished apartments. The bits of blue and lavender were a nice change from the taupe palettes she’d been living with for the past few years.
Robins and larks chirped in the trees outside her window, another nice change. Usually she was wakened by the sound of freeway traffic or inadvertently triggered car alarms. All in all, it was nice to be home.
She just needed to wrap her head around the fact that, for James, their past was exactly that. The past. He was Zeke’s dad, not her lover. Not any longer.
She grabbed clean clothes and headed for the bathroom down the hall. Once she was showered and dressed—denim capris, a light green tank top and flip-flops, leaving her long blond hair to dry around her shoulders—she felt ready to face her actual job at Mallard’s. Mike was back from vacation, and today was the day for full diagnostics of the old system so she could begin building the new. Daydreams and night dreams about James would have to wait.
Zeke turned over onto his tummy, his little hand beginning to rub against the mesh of the Pack ’n Play. She picked him up, his body still a bit limp from sleep, and cooed while she started his diaper change. He smiled at her and farted when she removed the diaper. Mara waved her hand in front of her face.
“Nice, kid, nice. You’ve gotta save some of that for your dad, okay?” Zeke grinned at that. She’d read all the baby books but still wondered for the millionth time just how much of what she said to him the child understood, and how much he just liked the sound of her voice.
She put a pair of shorts and a lightweight T-shirt on him and started down the stairs.
Gran and Amanda were seated at the kitchen table when she entered. Collin must already have been in the orchard for the day.
“Good morning,” she said, making her voice sound chirpier than she felt. Nearly a week of waking up halfway to sexual satisfaction from a dream about James had that effect on her. At least, that’s what she thought it was. Mara couldn’t remember ever having this many sex dreams, at least not back-to-back-to-back.
Amanda waved her spoon in Mara’s direction, then gathered her cereal bowl and Gran’s empty plate. “Need to check the berry garden. See ya later,” she called over her shoulder as she rushed out the door. Mara checked the dishes in the sink. Cereal bowl mostly full. Again. She set Zeke in the high chair Collin had brought down from the attic over the weekend. He waved his hands and started talking in his usual gibberish. Mara put a few pieces of cereal on his tray and filled a sippy cup with milk from Walters Ranch.
“Do you think they’ll ever stop using glass bottles?” she asked, not expecting an answer.
“Bennett says milk tastes better from glass than plastic. I agree,” Gran said, referring to Levi’s father and his penchant for old-fashioned milk bottles instead of the plastic jugs most stores carried.
Mara filled a cup with orange juice. “I’ll have to take your word for it, but Zeke definitely likes it.” And Mara liked that he hadn’t inherited her intolerance for milk. She gestured toward the sink, then the back door. “You think she’s ever going to stop running out of the room when I come in?” she asked.
Gran shrugged as she rose. “She’s not sure what to think about you being back, that’s all. She’s especially not sure what to think about you being back with a baby. Want some eggs?”
“Just juice and toast,” she said, taking what she needed from the refrigerator. While she waited for the toast to pop up, she asked, “Why does it bug her that I’m back?”
Gran sipped coffee from an orchard mug. “I don’t think it bothers her. You haven’t shared your plans with her. Like I said, it’s harder on her when people leave than it was on you. You and Collin always bounced back from those visits with your parents, from their coming and going, especially around her age. Amanda doesn’t bounce, and since you graduated, you’ve never been here more than a day at a time. Put that with the tornado and the volunteer construction work Collin’s taken on, and she’s not quite sure what to think.”
“I’m her sister. I’m here for a job.”
Gran raised an eyebrow. “That’s part of the problem.”
The toast was ready, and Mara spread on a thin layer of apple jam made by Levi’s mother, Mama Hazel. She bit in and closed her eyes as the sweetness of the jam slid over her taste buds.
“How long are you here?” Gran asked pointedly. “You don’t have just yourself to think about now. There’s Zeke, too. At some point, he’ll need preschool, a regular address—”
“He’s barely talking, and you’re planning for his education already?” Mara teased her grandmother, but the thought of leaving wasn’t quite as exciting as it usually was, and that bothered her more than she was ready to admit, even to Gran. She didn’t want to leave, not just yet, maybe not ever. But staying here, so close to James, and being only his friend? She didn’t think she could survive that.
“I’d like nothing more than for you to stay, but only if that is what you want. You’re the one who says you have itchy feet.”
That was not a reminder Mara liked. Yes, she knew it was true, but that didn’t make hearing it any easier. She finished her toast and downed the glass of juice. “I’ll go back to the B and B if it’s that inconvenient for Amanda to have me here.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being like your father. There is a kind of beauty in always wondering what is around the next corner, and being brave enough to take that next turn. He makes me absolutely crazy, and I hate what he’s put you kids through, but he is my son. I wouldn’t have the three of you if it weren’t for him.” Gran made Samson Tyler sound like some unique, noble combination of a hippie and an adventurer.
The truth for Mara was that Samson was an inconsiderate, immature man who had no interest in taking responsibility for anyone but himself. He’d dragged their mother along on his “adventures” for nearly thirty years. Not that Maddie Tyler complained about the quick moves, job changes or any of the rest of it. She simply smiled, packed their things and headed off in his ancient VW Beetle.
Gran was still talking. “You’ll stay here, of course. Amanda will get used to you and Zeke. You need a babysitter while you’re working on the Mallard’s contract. We all want you here. Some of us are just better at expressing that.”
Mara could relate to not expressing her feelings. That fear of rejection had made her run away from James in Nashville, and it had kept her away from home for too long. If she’d had a bit more strength all along, Amanda wouldn’t be running away from her now. James would know his son. Mara shook off the guilt settling over her shoulders.
“Well, if I’m going to prove to my sister that I’m at least a little bit reliable, I’d better get this inspection done quickly. When she ventures back in, tell her I’ll be home after lunch. We can work the roadside stand together this afternoon. We’ll take Zeke with us.”
* * *
“I’M GLAD THE news crews covering the tornado damage left before this reconstruction project started. Although I hear they’re going to do some kind of six-month reminder of what happened. How we recovered,” a low voice with a bit of a twang said from behind Mara. She turned to see a woman with a mass of long, thin braids, light caramel-colored skin and deep brown eyes behind her. “Mara, right?”
The voice and the look rang a bell, but Mara couldn’t put a name to either the face or the voice. “Yeah, but I don’t think—”
“I was a year behind you and the guys in school. Savannah Walters. Levi’s sister.”
“And Collin’s girlfriend. You’re the one he keeps sneaking away from the house to see.”
Mara had walked downtown to get a break from Mallard’s. While most of the workers, and Mike Mallard himself, were perfectly nice to her, she’d felt the glowering gaze of CarlaAnn from the moment she arrived at the store. During quiet moments at the register, the clerk had made it her mission to tell whoever was around about the so-called shoplifting incident.
“And I’ll bet you’ve had just about enough of CarlaAnn, haven’t you? Don’t worry, she kept the town talking about me not so long ago. It’ll pass.” Savannah grinned. “And in Collin’s defense, I keep sneaking away from my house, too. This grown-up relationship thing when you’re living with parents is weird.”
“I can imagine.”
Savannah held out her hand, and Mara shook it. Savannah sat beside Mara on the bench facing what used to be the farmers’ market. The roof had been torn off in the tornado, and one wall collapsed. The big plate glass window had blown out. Along with a crew of construction workers, Collin had helped to reinforce the walls. Today, he’d joined Levi and the rest of the volunteers working on the back side of the roof.
“Why don’t you like the news crews coming around?”
Savannah shivered. “Bad memories.”
And then everything clicked. Savannah had been on a talent show and had a big hit on country radio before a scandal rocked her career around the time the tornado rocked Slippery Rock.
“You were on that benefit concert show, right?” Mara asked. “The one that raised funds for the reconstruction.” The other woman grimaced and then nodded. “You were good.”
“I’m glad I’m not in that spotlight now.”
Mara wasn’t sure what else to say. She didn’t know Savannah Walters, not even from Collin. That was another aspect of being back that was different. There was a time in their lives when she and Collin told one another everything. She remembered that expression on his face when she’d told him that James was Zeke’s father. He’d looked betrayed...and hurt. That hurt ran deep, and it was because of her. Because she had shut so much of her life out of his. She needed to fix that.
She needed to fix a lot of things. “What are you still doing in Slippery Rock? I mean, I love my brother, but you had a Nashville record deal.”
“It turned out I hated singing on stage. Crowds and me,” she said with a shake of her head, “not simpatico.” A smile lit Savannah’s face, and her eyes seemed to fasten on Collin’s broad, muscular back. “Now I’m back here and figuring out who I am for the first time in life. I know, I know, that sounds—”
Mara held up a hand. “I totally get it. I’ve been doing the same thing for the past couple years.”
“With Zeke?”
She nodded. “Zeke changed a lot of things.” She watched the men working on the farmers’ market for a long moment. “Slippery Rock tends to change things, too.”
“I’m going to build a camp for foster kids,” Savannah said, and Mara’s attention snapped back to the woman sitting beside her. “Still in the planning stages, but as you said, Slippery Rock tends to change things for people. Foster kids need a place to just be. I figure if Slippery Rock could change things for me, it can change things for them.”
“I think that’s amazing. My brother and this town are lucky to have you.”
“Thanks.” Savannah’s focus turned to Collin, and she sighed.
Mara recognized the look on Savannah’s face. Territorial. In love. She’d seen a similar expression in the mirror in Nashville. She’d seen it again in the mirror after her argument with James at the B and B. Lord, but she was in trouble.
“Do you think they realize they’re basically giving the women of Slippery Rock a free show?” she asked. “All that tanned skin and muscle and sweat?”
Savannah cocked her head to the side as if inspecting the crew of workers. “You know, I think this oblivious thing they have going is a total act. They definitely know.”
Mara chuckled. Another man joined the men working on the market, and her mouth went dry. James wore a blue department polo and khakis, and his face was shaded by the bill of a ball cap. He wore black sneakers instead of the combat-type boots he’d worn last week. His shoulders seemed almost as broad as the nearly demolished door he walked through as he greeted the rest of the crew.
He didn’t ask where to join in, just picked up a hammer and helped Collin’s crew setting the studs for the new wall.
“Wow.” She couldn’t stop the single syllable from escaping her mouth. Mara clapped her hand over her mouth. “Ignore me,” she said through her fingers.
Savannah grinned. “He does make you look twice, doesn’t he?” She elbowed Mara. “And lucky you, you get to claim him as the father of your baby.”
Of course Collin had told Savannah. Mara shouldn’t have been surprised. Still, she wasn’t sure just how public James wanted his parental status to be.
“Does everyone know?” she asked, and her chest seemed to tighten. Which was silly. He was the father of her child, and people were going to find out. There was little either of them could do about that.
“I haven’t heard any gossip, if that’s what you mean. But I’m not really on any of the phone trees in town.”
“We, ah, aren’t really telling people. Not until we get it all figured out between the two of us, I mean.”
“Sure. The last thing you want to do in Slippery Rock is tell anyone part of any story. Before you know it, the story will be finished and will end in the one way you definitely don’t want it to end.” Savannah stood. “I have an appointment with my mom and a jam recipe. See you around?”
Mara nodded. “We should have lunch sometime while I’m still here.”
“I’ll call you.”
She walked away, leaving Mara alone on the bench across the street from the market. She watched the men working. James never looked in her direction, which she supposed was a good thing. It meant he was over whatever had been between them. He was over it; she’d already walked away from it. The sooner she got those facts through to her hormones, the better. And yet she remained on the bench, just watching.
Mara clasped her hands in her lap. Crossed and uncrossed her legs. He was completely oblivious to her. It wasn’t fair.
It was also hotter than Hades out here. She left the bench and crossed the street to Bud’s, where she ordered a large soda. At the end of the sandwich counter sat a huge cooler filled with fish bait, and Mara shivered. Why Bud made his sandwiches so close to fish bait remained a mystery to her. A gross mystery.
Bud, his steel-gray hair in a familiar buzz cut, gave her the drink but didn’t stay to chat. He was distracted with a few fishermen at the other end of the counter, which was just as well. Mara didn’t feel much like small talk. Back in her SUV, she hit the button to close the moonroof, then rolled up the window, filling the hot car with cool air-conditioning.
She drove out of the downtown area, past Mallard’s, and turned onto the highway that would lead her to the orchard. She’d come here to rebuild her relationship with her family, not with James. She wanted to help him build a relationship with Zeke, but that didn’t need to have anything to do with her.
Slippery Rock was the home she wanted to love but had never quite been able to. The place where she’d taught herself code and spent much of her time with her head buried in a book. The place where she’d learned that practically nothing would cover words painted in John Deere green on a town water tower, and that the best friend she would ever have would be the one person she had treated absolutely worst.
What she felt when he was around was simply residual attraction. She would get over it.
She had to.
* * *
“YOU KNOW, IT doesn’t take two adults and a toddler to run this stand. Not on a ninety-eight-degree afternoon.” Amanda scraped her hair toward the top of her head, then twisted it into a bun. She held it there for a long minute, and Mara realized she must not have an elastic with her. She pulled one from Zeke’s bag and handed it to her. “Thanks,” Amanda grumbled. She secured the bun and crossed her arms over her chest.
“You’re welcome. And you aren’t an adult.”
“Yes, I am. I’m—”
“Seventeen,” Mara said. She gathered her hair in her hand and flapped it, hoping the slight motion would cool her neck. It didn’t work.
“I’m going to graduate high school by Christmas. That makes me an adult.”
“No, that makes you a seventeen-year-old almost high school graduate. When you hit eighteen, we’ll talk about you being an adult.”
Amanda grumbled something Mara couldn’t understand. The sniping, which had been going on since she’d returned to the orchard just after one o’clock, had to stop. If she was going to start a good relationship with her sister—and Mara truly wanted this—she had to be the adult.
Zeke rolled his ball across the plywood floor of the stand. It bumped against Mara’s foot, and she rolled it back to him. Zeke seemed as thrilled as Amanda to be cooped up in the little stand. All of two cars had passed in the hour they’d been here, and neither had slowed.
Mara stood. “Come on,” she said, motioning Amanda to join her. What her sister needed—what they both needed—was a little free time. They couldn’t get reacquainted if they were both so miserable they couldn’t have a decent conversation.
“What now? Are we going to flag people down as they drive past?” Amanda asked, but she followed Mara outside.
“What people? You’re right. Everyone is inside in the air-conditioning. Grab that side,” she said, pointing to the other side of the stand. When the stand was open, the plywood that covered the counter area was held up with a pulley system. It offered a bit more shade without blocking the breeze. When there was a breeze. Today the air was still. Amanda released the pulley from her side and Mara released hers, closing the covering.
“What are you doing?” Amanda asked. “We’re supposed to be here until five. It’s barely two.”
“We’re playing hooky.”
Zeke had made his way to the open side door, and Mara held her hand out to him. Zeke put his hand in hers.
“Grab the diaper bag, would you?” Mara called over her shoulder as she locked Zeke in the car seat Collin had installed in one of the orchard’s utility vehicles. Amanda got into the vehicle while Mara locked the side door of the stand and hung the Closed sign on the front.
“Collin isn’t going to like this.”
“What’s he going to do, fire us?”
“We don’t even get paid.”
“See what I mean? He can’t fire us if he doesn’t pay us.” Although Mara was one hundred percent certain that Collin would disagree with that statement. She would have to do some fancy explaining when he found out they’d ditched their post.
“I don’t think Collin’s going to see it that way. He likes to tell me idle hands are the devil’s playthings.” Amanda rolled her eyes. “As if any of us ever had idle hands around here.”
Mara put the vehicle in gear and started down the lane, but instead of driving past the house, she turned onto a narrow path that would lead to the lake. Just in case Collin was paying attention, she’d keep them out of his direct sight.
“That was one of Granddad’s favorite sayings. He used it on us—well, on me—a lot.”
“I remember. Kind of. I was little when you lived here before.” Amanda sighed. “Did he tell that to you as often as Collin uses it on me?”
“I’m not sure. About how many times have you heard it in, say, the past month?”
“At least fifteen.”
“I’d say that’s about how often Granddad would say it to me.” Amanda heaved another sigh that seemed to come up all the way from her feet. Mara patted Amanda’s arm sympathetically. “You don’t like the comparison?”
“I just don’t think it’s fair, is all. I’m practically on track to be Mother Theresa next to the things you did.”
“The things I did?” She knew her childhood crimes—she couldn’t get away from them, not even as an adult. Still, it would be nice to know exactly how she measured up where her sister was concerned.
“You wrote on water towers, messed up computer systems.”
“You gave pointers to kids planning to tamper with the Memorial Day fireworks display. Pointers that wound up starting a fire.”
“Because they didn’t properly follow my directions. You and the guys all brought dogs to school on the same day.”
“You yarn-bombed an old man’s yard after the tornado. And have been painting the sidewalks downtown.”
“I was only trying to hide those ugly weeds. And the yarn disintegrated with the first rainstorm.” Amanda shot her gaze toward Mara. “How do you know all this?”
“Who else would paint antilittering slogans on sidewalks and storm drains?” She paused. “Also, Collin was worried about you. He told me when I called after the tornado.”
“Oh.” The thought of Collin worrying about her rather than just being annoyed with her seemed to stop Amanda for a moment. “Well, I worry about the environment. People should be more careful with their trash. Those drains empty out into the lake. It’s...it’s...unsanitary. And I used water-soluble and environmentally safe paint, so the next good storm will wash away the paintings.” Amanda folded her arms across her chest. “They say you destroyed a whole fleet of buses—”
“Technically only two, the third bus’s tires didn’t completely deflate,” Mara clarified. She didn’t bother to tell Amanda the bus thing wasn’t her fault. It wouldn’t matter, and the whole truth could be bad for James.
“You ran away rather than face up to what you did. You don’t care about anyone in this family. You’re a liar.”
Mara winced. “Ouch.”
“You didn’t even come home for Granddad’s funeral.”
She’d been seven months pregnant when Granddad died. Seven months pregnant and in a remote area of Alaska. She hadn’t gotten Collin’s phone calls or emails until the day of the funeral, and the pain of not being there for her family was still strong.
“No, I didn’t. I’ve been an awful person. To you and to Gran and to Collin. I’ve been especially horrible to James. None of you deserved any of the things I did or didn’t do because I was always gone.” She turned off the dirt track through the plum orchard and onto the gravel road leading to the lake. “I’m here now to fix the things I did wrong.”
“Until you leave again.”
“I have a job, Mand—”
“Don’t call me that. Only my family calls me that.”
Mara winced again. “Double ouch.” The terrain changed, and she navigated from the gravel road down to the swimming area they’d used as kids. “I want things to be different. I want things to be better, and I’m here to try to make them better. I’m not your mother. I’m not an aunt or even a trusted family friend. I’m the sister who ran away, who left you behind, and I’m sorry.”
She parked the utility vehicle under a huge oak, set the emergency brake and unbuckled her seat belt.
“Do you think we could maybe start from there?” she asked.
Amanda stared straight ahead for so long that Mara turned away. She released Zeke’s safety harness and began to slather sunscreen over his exposed face, arms and legs. She put a floppy hat over his head, and the little boy kicked his legs in protest. He hated the floppy hat, but the sun was so brutal today that it was necessary. Mara grabbed a toddler-size life jacket from the bin in the cargo area and slid it over his torso. Then she rubbed sunscreen on her own face and arms.
Amanda finally left the front seat. She held out a hand for sunscreen, and Mara dropped a dollop into her palm.
“You’re going to get bored here and leave again,” Amanda said, the words flat.
Mara capped the sunscreen and handed the bottle to her sister. “Kiddo, boredom had nothing to do with me leaving ten years ago, and so far life in Slippery Rock is promising to be anything but boring moving forward.”
Boredom had never been the problem. Mara wanted to see things, to have experiences that she couldn’t have in Slippery Rock. There was very little call for a computer programmer in a town of fewer than ten thousand people. And with her reputation, the school wouldn’t have hired her as a janitor, much less as a computer tech for the district. Mara liked the black-and-white framework of the programming world, and she liked that even with those very strict rules, things still went buggy from time to time. Figuring out the bugs was like going on a little adventure right in her desk chair.
“Did you even miss us?” Amanda asked.
“All the time, kiddo. All the time.” Mara let Zeke down from his seat, and he walked toward the crisp blue water. Mara followed, and Amanda fell into step beside her. “I missed taking you for mani-pedis when you turned sixteen. I missed the craziness of Collin teaching you to drive—I’m assuming that was as awful as it was when he tried to teach me.”
“He acted as if I was going to drive straight into the lake when we were still in the driveway.”
“Sounds about right.” Mara put her arm around Amanda’s shoulders, and for the first time, her sister didn’t flinch away from the contact. That had to be progress, Mara thought. “I missed you starting high school, but I won’t miss your graduation. I’d do a lot of things differently if I could do it all over.”
She would start by not disappearing soon after graduation, even if she’d disappeared for the right reasons. James made one mistake that night; one mistake shouldn’t derail his entire life. She had hoped that letting people assume she deflated the tires would somehow atone for the other things she’d done. Instead, running away made it easier to keep running, the way she’d run from her feelings for James in Nashville.
“Will you miss us when you leave again?”
Mara sat on the warm sand and dipped her toes into the cool water. Zeke picked up little stones and threw them into the lake, laughing as he splashed at the edge. Amanda sat beside her, stretching her legs farther out into the water.
Would she miss Slippery Rock when she left again? So very much, and she had been back in town for only a handful of days. She couldn’t imagine her life, or Zeke’s, without Gran in the kitchen or Amanda sulking in the living room or Collin wandering around with that stupid I’m-in-love expression on his face. Mara had four more weeks here, at least. How much harder would it be to leave then?
And then there was James. James, whom she’d fallen in love with somewhere between Jefferson City five years ago and Nashville two years ago. James, whose face she saw in her son’s every day. James, who was serious about everything in his life, but who had never been serious about her. She could fall for him again, and he could fall for their son, but would he ever feel about her the way she felt about him? And did she want him to?
He had a bright future. Sheriff of Wall County. There had to be a thousand small-town women swooning over him, a thousand women who would want to stay at home and have kids and enter their baked goods in the county fair competitions.
She had a set future as a traveling computer programmer and security expert. Never in the same city for more than a few months. She didn’t bake. She didn’t want to be a stay-at-home mom, despite loving every minute she was able to spend with Zeke. There were ways to make a home base work, despite her traveling schedule, but not in Slippery Rock.
She had a reputation as a troublemaker.
He had a job and responsibility to arrest troublemakers.
It didn’t matter how she’d felt about him before; it didn’t even matter that she still had those feelings for him. Mara Tyler was not the right kind of woman for James Calhoun, despite the fact that she’d had his baby. There was nothing she could do about that.
Well, there was one thing. She could keep her love for him to herself. Because if James knew she was in love with him, he would do the responsible thing. He would try to marry the mother of his child, because that’s what responsible people who had children did. They got married or stayed married for the sake of the children. Mara couldn’t think of anything worse than loving James and being married to him when the child they shared was his only reason for being in the relationship.
She stared into the distance, at the sunlight glittering across the lake like a million diamonds. There was no way she could stay, no matter how badly she would like to, not when every touch from James made her insides do that flip-floppy thing.
“I’m going to miss everyone,” she said after a long time. She bumped her shoulder against her sister’s. “More than any of you can know.”