Promise Me This (Wilder Family #3)

I’d always associated smells with certain people and places in my life. The slightest hint of exhaust or street food would bring me back to New York. Before I moved back home, the sharp, masculine scent of sandalwood and fir trees reminded me of Ian, though now I suspected that sawdust and freshly cut wood would bring him to mind.

And the moment I smelled lemon Pledge or cinnamon coffee cake, I thought of my parents’ house. Very little about it had changed since I moved out after high school because neither my mom nor dad felt the need to make updates to a place where they were perfectly comfortable.

As Sage and I walked into their house for lunch, I took a deep inhale. Rachel must have just baked the cinnamon cake at home because the scent of it hung heavy in the air, and the pang of nostalgia was so sharp, I felt it behind my breastbone.

“In the kitchen,” my mom called.