The door opens and she pushes the screen door with her hand before leaning against the frame. A mischievous smile appears, tipping up one side. I’ve been told I smile the same way. Guess I learned from the best. Her hair is pinned back but some strands from a long day of work have fallen. She’s dressed like she has someplace to go, but I know better. She’s a homebody by choice. Meredith Koster just likes to look good. She crosses her arms, and says, “Well, if it isn’t my long-lost son. What brings you to town, kid?”
The kid reference makes me smile. Also makes me miss the innocence that the name suggests. “Just thought it was time for a visit.”
She drops the hard-ass act and opens her arms. “Come here.” Hugging me tight, she adds, “I have missed you so much. I don’t know why you like to worry me like you do.”
One front door. Two deadbolts. One chain. A screen door.
Back door. Three small windows. Two locks. A screen door.
Fourteen windows total.
It feels good to hug her again. I’m way bigger than she is, outgrowing her by eighth grade, but she still hugs me like I’m her baby. Backing into the house, she says, “Get on in here and close the door behind you. You’re letting bugs in.”
The screen door screeches closed and I shut the front door, locking it behind me, even though I’ve never considered myself the paranoid type. I probably should be, considering what I’ve been up to, but I never felt unsafe at home.
She moves into the kitchen as I drop my backpack on the floor. Peeking out, she says, “You sure are traveling light these days.”
“A few changes of clothes. The basics are all I need.” I start for the kitchen but get sidetracked by the framed photos on a bookcase. My graduation photo is too large to enjoy. No one needs to see an eight-by-ten in a cheap brass frame, highlighting a bad haircut. There’s a photo of me as quarterback senior year of high school and one from my little league days. The baby pic of me with my face covered in cake is humiliating, so I don’t linger too long on that one. That seems like a lifetime ago, and a broken arm in college ended my glory days.
Bending down, there’s a smaller five-by-seven from prom night. Delilah Noelle. The belle of the ball. The queen of my heart. The town darling. We made a good-looking couple, a match in every way. The head cheerleader who fell for the football star. So unoriginal. People said we were so sweet we gave them a toothache.
It was real.
We were real.
Looking over my shoulder, my mom says, “I can’t seem to pack it away.”
A lot like my feelings for Delilah, despite how hard I’ve tried.
I stand up and turn to my mom. I take the offered mug of tea, not wanting to talk about the girl in the photo or the woman across town.
Sitting on the couch, Mom asks, “How long are you staying?”
“How long will you have me?”
“As long as you need.”
“I’m not hiding out.”
“Okay, as long as you want then.” She sips her tea and I do the same. “I’ve cleaned your room, and you have plenty of clothes in the closet and the dresser. I can take you out shopping tomorrow for anything else you might need.”
“I don’t need you to buy me things. I can afford what I need.”
“Odd jobs. Here and there.”
She knows when to stop pushing for answers I’m not going to give her. Standing, she asks, “Are you hungry? I was just about to make grilled cheese sandwiches with tomato soup.”
“That sounds incredible.”
“You go settle in and clean up, and I’ll make dinner.”
I grab my bag and head down to the hall but stop when she adds, “It’s good to have you home, son.”
Home.
There’s that word again. It’s a word I haven’t known in some time. Am I home? I’m not really sure anymore, but my mom has always been a haven, so she deserves to hear that from me. I smile and say, “It’s good to be home.”
Spend more time with Jason and Delilah here: CLICK NOW
On A Personal Note
My family has the patience of saints. They are truly the most encouraging, loving, and supportive people. I count my lucky stars every day to have them in my life.
To my friends, I miss you. Thank you for your friendship and support while I buried myself in this book and in the world of Cruise and Clara. I promise to drink extra cocktails next time we get to spend time together. WOOT!
To the Readers, Authors, and Bloggers, you make this all possible and I’m so fortunate to have such awesome peers and friends. Thank you for reading my books and for the love you always show me and the characters.
Irrevocably in love,
Suzie
About the Author
For more information on New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author, S. L. Scott:
Visit her website www.slscottauthor.com
Sign up for her newsletter: http://bit.ly/1pF049r
Living in the capital of Texas with her family, Scott loves traveling and avocados, beaches, and cooking with her kids. She's obsessed with epic romances and loves a good plot twist. Her favorite color is blue, but she likens it more toward the sky than the emotion. Her home is filled with the welcoming symbol of the pineapple and finds surfing a challenge though she likes to think she's a pro.
www.slscottauthor.com
Also by S.L. SCOTT
SAVAGE
SAVIOR
SACRED
SOLACE
Hard to Resist Series
The Resistance
The Reckoning
The Redemption
The Revolution
The Rebellion
Talk to Me Duet
Sweet Talk
Dirty Talk
Welcome to Paradise Series
Good Vibrations
Good Intentions
Good Sensations
Happy Endings
Welcome to Paradise Series Set
From the Inside Out Series
Scorned
Dylan
Austin
From the Inside Out Compilation
Stand Alone Books
Missing Grace
Until I Met You
Drunk on Love
Naturally, Charlie
A Prior Engagement
Lost in Translation
Sleeping with Mr. Sexy
Morning Glory
To keep up to date with her writing and more, her website is www.slscottauthor.com to receive her newsletter with all of her publishing adventures and giveaways, sign up for her newsletter: http://bit.ly/SLSNewsletter
Join S.L.’s Facebook group here: S.L. Scott Books
Book 2
Book 3