Tumble (Dogwood Lane 1)

“You’re home,” she gushes, giving me a quick hug. “I went ahead and got your coffee so you didn’t have to wait.”

“Are there always this many people here?” I grumble, sitting across from her.

She slow blinks. “Yes. Have you been gone that long?”

Shaking the cobwebs from my head, I take the coffee across from me. It’s rich and aromatic and everything a coffee should be. I bet Claire wouldn’t agree.

“So . . . ,” Grace prods, flipping a lock of hair off her shoulder. “What happened in the country?”

I open my mouth to tell her something, but it comes out as a tired exhale. Grace sets her cup down. There’s a bright-pink lipstick stain along the top.

“Okay. What’s going on?” she asks.

“Nothing. We aren’t ruining our reunion coffee with tales of my heartache.”

“Heartache?” She leans back in her chair, a tiny diamond stud glistening in her nose. “We need to get to the bottom of this.”

“There’s nothing to get to the bottom of,” I tell her. “I saw Dane a few times, as you know, and spent some days with him and his little girl.”

“The little girl who is a product of the reason you left in the first place?”

I ignore that. It’s not important. “Mia is adorable and a gymnast like me. What’s the chance of that happening?”

“You do realize you’re all gooey-eyed over a man and a little girl, right? I mean, if you’re cool with it, I’m cool with it, but I am worried about you.” She looks bewildered. “Out of all the potential things I saw happening with you going back there, this was not one of them. I’ll say that.”

I take a drink of my perfectly brewed coffee. It’s so spot-on, it’s almost annoying. “It doesn’t matter. I came back here.”

“Which thrills me because I was going nuts without you.” She throws up her hands. “When I got your text, I lost my cool in the middle of the salon. No one has any sense in this city, Neely. No one.”

“Well, I lost it in the middle of my apartment last night. You should’ve come over. We could’ve flipped out together.”

She furrows a brow. “What was wrong with you?”

“Oh, the people who live above me were pounding around all night. More car alarms went off than I thought possible. The hot water took ten years to warm. Need more?”

Grace laughs, her bangles clamoring together on her wrist. “You spent way too much time in the boonies.”

“No joke. It’s definitely going to take some time to readjust.”

To readjust. What a nice way to put it. I don’t need to adjust again to life here. What I need is to figure out why I feel like something is missing. Or wrong. I didn’t leave on the oven or a curling wand, and I picked up all my mail at the post office. So why on earth do I feel like something needs to be done?

“Neely?”

“Yeah,” I say, coming out of my daze. A dull throb taps away at my temple. I just want to close my eyes and go to sleep.

“Tell me about Dane.”

My eyes snap to my friend’s. She’s drinking her caffeine, watching me carefully.

I don’t want to talk about him. I don’t want to go there at all. But knowing Grace, this conversation will have to happen, so I might as well get it over with.

“He’s gentle and kind, but fierce and loyal,” I say, the words coming easier as I go. “Watching him with Mia will melt you in your shoes. He reads her bedtime stories and spoils the crap out of her, but she has chores to do and he makes her do them.”

I get settled in my chair.

“Mia has him wrapped around her little finger, but how could you not be? She’s the cutest little girl ever. A little sassy but all sorts of sweet, and she loves tumbling, so that’s right up my alley. And she has a thing for koi fish, which is random, but that’s her grandfather’s fault.”

“I’m with her on the koi,” Grace says. “They’re gorgeous.”

“Right? And Dane’s brother, Matt, is like a giant teddy bear. I actually think you’d like him a lot, Grace. But stay away from Penn. He’s . . .”

“What?”

I laugh. “I can’t decide if you two would get along or hate each other.”

Her eyes light up as she leans forward. “Ooh. What’s he look like?”

“He’s muscly in a carpenter kind of way. Dark hair. Blue eyes. Tattoos probably everywhere, but I don’t know that to be a fact,” I say.

“Sounds cute.”

“You would totally think he’s cute. Trust me.”

She nods, a satisfied grin on her face. “How’s your mom?”

“Good. She has a boyfriend now, which is weird, but he’s a nice guy. Claire made a joke about my mom making him pie—I’m sure you can imagine what it is—and now I can’t think of pie or him without that line in my head.” I laugh at the memory. “You should go down there with me sometime, Grace.”