Write Me Home

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Write Me Home Page 24

by Crystal Walton


  She wrapped her arms around him. “Promise?”

  “With all I am.” Pressing a hand to her lower back, he brought her to him. He might not be able to vow he’d never hold her too tightly, but there was one promise he’d cling to the rest of his life. He’d never let her go.

  epilogue

  Home

  One Year Later

  Cass closed her pen inside her journal, laid it beside a planter filled with dahlias, and leafed through the day’s mail until a letter from Ti tipped out.

  Smiling, she tore into it. Hearing the primary week campers playing in the background made her miss her childhood best friend all the more.

  Ethan came through the screen door in low-hanging jeans and a long-sleeved white shirt against his tan skin, possibly looking more attractive than he did in his navy blue T-shirts. It wasn’t fair for him to make her heart race with just one glance.

  He crossed the deck, grin hitching sideways as though he heard her thoughts. “Something caught your eye?”

  She fought a grin and shrugged. “Nothing special.”

  “Oh, really?” In front of her, he set his coffee on the rail and leaned in until his lips brushed her neck. “Nothing at all?” His warm breath and whiskers hummed against her skin.

  Forcing her pulse to slow, she pressed him back. “Well, I did get a letter from Ti.”

  “Who can compete with that?” He laughed and picked his coffee up again. “How’s the art studio going?”

  “Great. She has two other employees now, so she’s free to come up next weekend and paint the mural on the canteen like we talked about.”

  He looked across the field to the newly built structure surrounded by campers bouncing around on sugar rushes. “Think it’s big enough?”

  Cass rested her chin against his shoulder and followed his gaze. “Considering this incredibly talented soon-to-be architect designed and built it, I’d say it’s perfect.”

  Another laugh slipped around his coffee mug. “You might be slightly biased.”

  “Maybe, but I hear the professors at Cornell aren’t. They didn’t give you an A on the project for no reason.”

  He returned his coffee to the rail and draped her arms around his waist. “And you thought I was the one who saw other’s potential.”

  He ran his hand through her curls, eyes a bottomless blue. “Thanks for believing in me. But if it’s okay with you, I think I’ll finish the rest of my degree online.”

  “You don’t like the classroom?”

  “I don’t like being apart from you.” His dimples sank even deeper. “As much as I love long motorcycle rides, only getting to see each other on the weekends doesn’t really fit into my plans.”

  She slid her hands up his solid chest and laced them around his neck. “Since when did you start living by plans?”

  “Since my OCD fiancée started rubbing off on me.”

  She tugged the back of his hair. “Sounds like she’s a keeper.”

  “For life.” His lips found hers. Tender, reassuring.

  His promise blended with the sensation of his touch and stoked the sense of awe she hadn’t stopped feeling since he’d proposed. The love that’d carried them through everything and led them to where they were now overwhelmed her at times.

  Still cupping her face, he rested his forehead to hers. “Next month can’t get here fast enough.”

  No kidding. Just the thought of waiting four more weeks to get married was torturous.

  “By the way,” he said. “Nonna said we better stop checking on her as much, or she’s going to return the wedding gift she got us.”

  She laughed. “Oh, yeah? What’s the gift?”

  His dimples curved. “An espresso machine.”

  “Oooh. Guess we better back off, then.” Laughter and thoughts mingled as the first time she met Nonna replayed in her mind. So much had happened since then.

  He leaned back and studied her eyes. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Just thinking.” She toyed with the hem of her shirt. “Do you have any regrets about giving up fire fighting full-time?”

  He tilted his head. “Cass . . .”

  A little brown-haired girl flew up the stairs and bounded into his legs. “Mr. Ethan. Mr. Ethan. Are you gonna build us a campfire tonight?”

  He scooped her up and shifted her onto his hip. “I don’t know. You think I should?”

  “You’re the bestest at making fires. Pleeeease!”

  Cass bit her shirt cuff to stifle a laugh. She couldn’t be any cuter. The little girl slid the end of her long ponytail between her lips, hopeful eyes looking up at him.

  Based on the pictures Cass had seen, she could’ve been a younger version of Ethan’s sister. Her heart squeezed at the image. Seeing the way he interacted with the campers always left her undone.

  Ethan scrunched his face into a look of deliberation. “Okay, I’ll do it.” He winked and set her down. “Just for you.”

  Beaming, she scurried back down the stairs. “Cynthia, he’ll do it,” she called to a friend.

  He watched the girls skip off to the boxball court, his smile almost as wide as theirs.

  He inched toward Cass again. His fingertips curled under hers, and oceans of promise met her gaze. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the skin around her engagement ring. “Cass, a second doesn’t go by without my knowing I’m exactly where I belong.”

  So was she. Smack in the middle of the one thing she finally understood was enough.

  Grace.

  Ethan brought their joined hands to his side and bobbed his brows. “Speaking of which. The creek’s calling. How about a little canoe ride?”

  She looked over to the boxball game underway. “There’s—”

  “No more work to be done.”

  Her focus darted back to him. He was right. They’d finished all the renovations, passed the inspection, and brought the books into balance. They had an amazing staff of counselors and enough camp registrations this summer to carry them through the offseason. It was time to enjoy it all.

  She let go of his hand and tried to keep a straight face. “I should probably stay with the campers.”

  “One . . .”

  She folded her arms. “Don’t start, Ethan. I—”

  “Two . . .”

  “I’m telling you. You don’t want to race me.”

  He flaunted her sassy grin right back. “Thr—”

  Launching off a giant shove to his chest, she soared down the stairs and across the gravel toward the boatshed.

  “You’re still a cheater, Cassidy McAdams,” he called while chasing after her.

  “And you’re still an instigator.”

  He caught her around the waist and swept her up from behind. They twirled in a circle before he returned her feet to the grass. “Guess that makes us a good team.”

  She traced her fingers over his scruffy cheek. “For life.” The one she never thought she’d be living.

  Sunshine and laughter curled around her with the sights and sounds that filled the blank pages of her journal every day. And as she sank into Ethan’s arms, she settled further into the joy of finding where she was always meant to be.

  Home.

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  A Word from the Author

  Thanks so much for reading Write Me Home. These have been some of my favorite characters to write. Nonna? Forget about it. Love her. I’ve adored every part of writing this sweet story—the friendship, the banter, the encouragement. All of it. The only thing that’d make it even more fun is getting to hear from you. Email me anytime.

  Make no mistake about it. Your voice matters. I hope you’ll take a moment to leave a review on Amazon and Goodreads to help new readers discover Ethan and Cassidy’s story. Thank you for partnering with me.

  OTHER BOO
KS BY CRYSTAL WALTON

  Eyes Unveiled

  Emma Matthews lost the song in her heart the same night she lost her dad. With an unfulfilled promise and an ultimatum shadowing her junior year of college, maybe it’s better that way. You can’t hurt if you can’t feel.

  But when the reflection she sees in musician Riley Preston’s eyes borders dangerously close to the one she’s spent the last five years searching for, Emma discovers her walls can’t guard her heart from its fiercest desire.

  Terrified of what she’s experiencing, and even more afraid of what she might lose, she grapples for the courage to hold on to one dream without abandoning the promise of another.

  Light Unshaken

  Falling in love is easy. Fighting for it will take everything she has.

  Between a dream engagement to promising musician Riley Preston and the perfect internship at a local outreach center, twenty-two-year-old Emma Matthews is living a life she never imagined could be real. But when Riley has to relocate to record an album, and a local gang leader threatens the Portland center, Emma grapples to remain unshaken.

  Caught in a moment when all light in her life goes out, Emma has no choice but to find the courage to lead her heart no matter what it costs her.

  Hope Unbroken

  A two-thousand-mile flight to Nashville should’ve been enough time for Emma to sort out her future with Riley. Then again, when has time ever played fair?

  With a contract ultimatum jeopardizing Riley’s career and a ruthless vendetta sabotaging Emma’s efforts to save the Portland center, the fires they spent the last four months facing are far from over.

  As danger strikes and delays snowball, the unrelenting war between the past and future tests Emma’s convictions until she has no choice but to put her faith in the one thing she’s always doubted.

  Will time once again steal the dreams she’s fought so hard to believe in, or will it finally teach her how to trust in a hope that remains unbroken?

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Crystal received her bachelor of arts from Messiah College in PA, married her exact opposite in upstate NY, and earned her master of arts from Regent University in VA, where she currently resides with her husband, David. Crystal writes contemporary clean fiction fueled by Starbucks venti green teas. She’d love to connect with you at http://crystal-walton.com.

  Acknowledgements

  Dave, thanks for giving me a home I can curl into no matter what outside circumstances shake our walls.

  Erynn, you have some superpowers of your own, girl. Thanks for the countless ways you helped me polish this story and for reminding me it’d be okay when I possibly might have wanted to freak out. I’m beyond blessed to get to partner with such a stellar editor and friend.

  Melanie, years back, I prayed for God to connect me with the right critique partner. As with most things, I’m amazed at His faithfulness. I would’ve been one hot mess working through this manuscript and launch without our deluge of phone-anxiety-free emails and much-needed long-distance hugs. Thanks for all the brainstorming, processing, and laughs along the way.

  Victorine, thanks for working with me through all the nit-picky tweaks that resulted in a gorgeous cover I can’t stop admiring with starry eyes.

  Franky, Rachel, Victorine, and Melanie, thanks for the many ways your insights, feedback, and encouragement have helped to fine-tune this story. Our critique group has been a joy to work with.

  Mom and Rachel, your support alone have kept me afloat numerous times throughout this journey. Thank you for sowing into this book with your sharp proofing skills as well. Grammar Nazis unite!

  Jacqui, thanks for ensuring my Spanish was accurate.

  To readers who’ve taken the time to leave a review or send an email to share how much you’ve enjoyed a character or story, you’ve encouraged my heart more than I can say. Thanks for sharing in this beautiful, messy, compelling thing we all love, called art.

 

 

 


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