Chapter 29
A month later, Emily stood in Grant’s office, trying to process the words he was saying. “You want me to what?”
“Be my partner in this new venture.”
Grant leaned against the edge of the desk. “You don’t have to decide right now. I know it’s a lot to take in.”
It was more than a lot. A month ago, she’d been ready to run from Starlight Shores forever. Now Grant was offering her this partnership.
“The Sanders Foundation wants to fund artist residencies? And they specifically requested my involvement?” She stared at him.
“Yeah, my mother is kind of remarkable when she sets her mind to something. She was determined to find a way to expand the teaching side of the gallery. She found the Sanders Foundation.”
“Your mother doesn’t do anything halfway.”
“She’s adopted you. Resistance is futile.”
Emily smiled at that. After years of being rejected over the scandal, having Margaret Stone champion her cause felt like an unexpected gift.
“The foundation was impressed by your work at the festival. And it seems the art world is finally believing your story of what happened with Franklin. It’s about time.
” His voice held that protective edge she’d grown to love.
“The foundation thinks combining your teaching experience with the gallery space could create something special.”
Special. Everything about the last few weeks had been special in ways that terrified her. The paintings she’d sold. The community that had rallied around her. The way Grant looked at her like she was worth fighting for.
“This would mean staying here in Starlight Shores.” He looked directly at her.
“Yes, it would.” She stood, walked to the window, and watched a pelican dive into the water as the first hints of sunset colored the sky. “I came here to hide. I thought if I just stayed quiet enough, small enough… I don’t know. I thought maybe I could disappear.”
“Emily—”
She held up a hand. “Let me finish.”
He nodded.
“Then I started sketching again. Then painting. Met Winnie and Melissa and even Clint with all his rules.” A laugh bubbled up, surprising her. “I painted that lighthouse like my life depended on it.” She shrugged. “Because maybe it did.”
She walked back to the desk and picked up the paperwork from the foundation. “Teaching workshops. Curating exhibitions. Building something that lasts. With you.”
“We’d be good partners.” Grant moved closer but didn’t touch her. “We already are.”
They were. Somehow, between hanging paintings and adjusting lights and sharing their broken pieces, they’d become a team. But this felt bigger. More permanent. More real.
“What about your current artists? Steven and Dave and a few others made their feelings pretty clear about associating with me.”
“They’ve all asked to come back.”
She reached out and took his hand. “You should let them. We all do… ah… unexpected things when we’re scared.”
“That’s really what you want?”
“Yes.” She squeezed his hand, then changed the subject. “So the teaching space would be in the back?”
“Yes, where we had the festival art. Melissa’s already offered to teach photography workshops. And Winnie has a whole list of artists she thinks would make good residents.”
Of course, Winnie had a list. The woman had probably been planning this since Emily first showed up at her door, scared and convinced she’d never paint again.
She took a deep breath, set down the paperwork, and stepped into his arms. “Okay, yes. Let’s do this.”
He pulled back to look at her. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure I want to try. This town, these people, and you are worth the risk. And I’m tired of running.”
He kissed her then, and Emily let herself believe in second chances, in new beginnings, and partnerships that might actually last.
When he finally stepped back, he smiled at her and took her hand. “I think we should go to the beach. That’s where this all started.”
“I think that’s a great plan.”
He led her through town, where countless locals called out greetings. They crossed over to the beach and headed toward the lighthouse. She thought about Winnie’s words about promises kept and harbors found, and how some places called to the people who needed them most.
They continued walking along the shoreline as the waves rolled in and the sun started dipping below the horizon, tossing brilliant streaks of purple and orange across the sky. He held her hand in his, and it felt natural and right.
She finally stopped and looked directly at him. “You’re sure about this partnership?”
“The gallery needs you.” His hands framed her face. “But that’s not why I want you as my partner.”
“No?” Her heart skipped. The way he looked at her made her feel eighteen and eighty all at once. She felt ridiculous and grateful at the same time.
“I want to argue about where to hang paintings. I want—” He laughed at himself. “I want coffee breaks that turn into something else. I want this. With you.”
“Grant—”
“I love you.” His words came out sure and steady. “I think I started falling for you that morning on the beach when you were painting the lighthouse. Maybe before that.”
She thought about all the reasons to be careful and all the ways love had failed her before. But standing here with the lighthouse keeping watch and the Gulf stretching endlessly before them, those fears felt as insubstantial as seafoam.
The lighthouse beam swept past. A promise and a blessing.
“I love you too.” Her words felt like coming home. “I love your stubborn integrity and your protective heart. I love how you fight for this community. I love that you gave me a second chance when everyone else would have walked away.”
Grant pulled her into a kiss full of new beginnings and permanent things. When they finally broke apart, he smiled. His whole face changed when he smiled like that.
“My mom is going to be insufferable.” His grin widened. “She’s been planning our partnership since she first met you.”
“The gallery partnership?” Emily raised an eyebrow.
“Oh, she’s got plans for that too.” He pulled her close. “But I’m more interested in this one.”
He kissed her again. Behind them, the lighthouse beam swept across the water and the waves kept coming in, steady as always.