Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
C harlotte woke to Milo's cold nose pressed against her hand. His tail thumped against the hardwood floor of her rental cottage. It was a tiny place just off Main Street that she'd started thinking of as home somewhere between hanging her first load of laundry and stocking the kitchen with coffee mugs.
"Five more minutes," she mumbled, but Milo was insistent. He grabbed the edge of her comforter and tugged, then darted to the front door.
"Alright, alright." She followed him, wrapping herself in a thick cardigan against the February chill. "But make it quick. It's freezing out there."
When she opened the door, Milo bounded straight for the porch steps and stopped. There, weighted down by a smooth piece of driftwood, was a cream-colored envelope with her name written in a steady hand.
Charlotte's heart skipped as she picked it up. The paper was thick, expensive. She slipped her finger under the flap and pulled out a single note card.
Meet me here at 4:00. I have something special to show you. - Grant
That was it. No explanation, no hint of what he had planned. Charlotte read it three more times before Milo's whine reminded her why they'd come outside in the first place.
Back inside, she set the note on her kitchen counter and started her morning routine, though her thoughts kept drifting to Grant. To the way he'd given her his jacket on the beach, how his hands had lingered on her shoulders. The soft look in his eyes when she'd kissed his cheek.
"What do you think he's planning?" she asked Milo as she poured her coffee. The dog just wagged his tail and looked expectant. "Right. You probably knew about this already, didn't you?"
The morning crawled by. Charlotte tried to work, reviewing photos for the book, but she kept getting distracted. Every image seemed to remind her of Grant. The careful restoration work at Indigo Bluff, the lighthouse where they'd almost kissed, the beach where she'd finally admitted she was thinking of staying.
By three o'clock, she'd changed clothes twice, settling on a soft sweater in deep blue and her nicest jeans. She'd just finished braiding her hair when she heard the rumble of Grant's truck outside.
Milo beat her to the door, tail wagging furiously. Through the window, she watched Grant climb out of his truck. He'd dressed up too in dark jeans and a charcoal gray sweater that made his eyes look stormy. Her stomach did a little flip.
"Hey," she said, opening the door before he could knock.
"Hey yourself." His eyes traveled over her, lingering for a moment. "Ready for an adventure?"
"Depends. Are you going to tell me where we're going?"
"Nope." He smiled, reaching down to scratch Milo's ears. "That's part of the surprise."
The drive was peaceful, filled with comfortable silence and the occasional comment about places they passed. Grant turned onto a narrow road she'd never noticed before, one that wound through a stretch of pine forest. The late afternoon sun filtered through the branches, creating patterns on the truck's hood.
Charlotte sneaked glances at Grant as he drove. His profile was strong against the light, and his hands were steady on the wheel. She noticed he'd rolled up his sleeves, exposing his forearms. The detail shouldn't be as distracting as it was.
Milo sat between them on the bench seat, his head swiveling back and forth as if he couldn't decide who needed his attention more. When Grant turned onto an even smaller track, barely more than a trail, Milo's tail started wagging with obvious recognition.
"Almost there," Grant said softly.
The trees opened up suddenly, revealing a hidden cove Charlotte hadn't known existed. The water stretched out before them, deep blue in the late afternoon light. Old oaks draped in Spanish moss created a natural archway leading down to a small, sandy beach.
Grant parked in a cleared area and came around to open her door. "Watch your step," he said, offering his hand. "Path's a little steep."
His palm was warm against hers as he helped her down. She expected him to let go once she was steady, but his fingers remained linked with hers as they started down the path.
"I found this place my first year doing restoration work," he said, his voice quiet in the stillness of the cove. "Was checking some property lines for a project and stumbled onto it. Been coming here ever since."
"It's beautiful." Charlotte took in the way the setting sun painted the water in shades of gold and pink. The air was unusually still, protected by the natural bowl of the cove.
"Not many people know about it." Grant led her toward a fallen log that made a perfect bench overlooking the water. "Thought you might like to photograph it sometime. But today..." He hesitated, and Charlotte felt his hand tighten slightly around hers. "Today I wanted to share it with you for a different reason."
Charlotte's heart thundered in her chest as they sat down. Milo settled at their feet, unusually calm, as if he understood the importance of the moment.
"Grant—" she started, but he shook his head.
He took a deep breath. "There's something I want to give you."
The sun dipped lower on the horizon, painting everything in golden light, and Charlotte held her breath.
Grant reached into his jacket and pulled out a wooden box about the size of a book. The wood was deep mahogany, polished to a soft shine, with brass hinges that caught the fading sunlight. Charlotte's breath caught at the obvious care that had gone into making it.
He cleared his throat. "After our conversation about Sweetheart candies, I couldn't stop thinking about messages that matter. Real ones."
He placed the box in her hands. It was warm from being carried close to his body, and she could feel the slight roughness of hand-carved details under her fingers.
"Open it," he said softly.
Charlotte lifted the lid, and tears pricked her eyes. Inside, nestled in dark blue velvet, were brass tokens cut in the shape of hearts. Each one was perfectly sized to fit in her palm, with messages carefully engraved in Grant's precise hand.
She picked up the first one. "'Be Brave,'" she read aloud, running her thumb over the letters.
"Because you are," Grant said. "Moving from place to place, always starting over. That takes courage."
The next token read "Stay Awhile." Charlotte's heart thundered in her chest as she traced the words.
"That one's a bit selfish," Grant admitted. His voice was low, intimate in the quiet of the cove. "I'm not ready for you to leave."
When she lifted the last token, the largest one centered in the box, a tear slipped down her cheek. "Found My Home."
"Charlotte." Grant's hand covered hers, both of them holding the token. "I've spent my whole life preserving other people's stories. But since you arrived I've been thinking about my own. About what's missing."
She looked up at him, caught by the intensity in his blue eyes.
"You see this place the way I do," he continued. "But you see more too. You show me things I've walked past a hundred times but never really noticed. You make me look at my own home through new eyes." He took a shaky breath. "And somewhere between showing you the lighthouse and sharing coffee under live oaks, I realized something. Home isn't just about place anymore. It's about who you share it with."
"Grant..." Charlotte's voice wavered. She set the box carefully aside and turned toward him. "I've spent so long running. Taking pictures of other people's lives, other people's homes. Never staying long enough to build my own." She smiled through her tears. "But here, with you? I don't want to run anymore."
"Then don't." He reached up and brushed a tear from her cheek. "Stay. Let me show you every hidden corner of this island." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Let me love you."
Charlotte leaned forward, closing the space between them. She caught the scent of sawdust and coffee on his sweater, familiar after so many shared moments. When their lips met, it felt like coming home. Like every photograph she'd ever taken trying to capture belonging had led her to this moment.
Grant's hand cradled her face, and she felt his heart racing under her palm where it rested against his chest. His lips were soft against hers, tasting faintly of coffee and something sweet, like the orange-cranberry bread from the coffee shop. The kiss was gentle at first, hesitant, as if he was afraid she might pull away. Then she pressed closer, and the kiss deepened, becoming something more urgent, more real. The calluses on his fingers caught slightly against her skin as he traced her jaw, years of restoration work evident in their roughness. But his touch was infinitely tender, and Charlotte found herself melting into him, memorizing every sensation. The warmth of his breath, the strength in his hands, the way he kissed her like she was something precious he'd been waiting his whole life to find.
Suddenly, a cold nose pressed between them, followed by an enthusiastic tongue. Milo had decided they'd had quite enough serious conversation.
Charlotte laughed against Grant's mouth before pulling back. "Your timing is terrible," she told the dog, but she was smiling too hard to sound stern.
"I don't know." Grant kept one arm around her, using his free hand to scratch Milo's ears. "He's the one who brought us together in the first place."
They sat together on the bench, Charlotte tucked against Grant's side, while the sun painted the sky in brilliant oranges and pinks. The brass tokens gleamed in their box, catching the last light of day.
"Happy Valentine's Day," Grant murmured into her hair.
Charlotte picked up the "Found My Home" token, holding it tight. "It certainly is."
Milo settled at their feet with a contented sigh, and Charlotte smiled. Sometimes, it seemed, you had to travel the world to find what was waiting just around the corner. Sometimes home wasn't a place at all, but a feeling. A moment. A heart-shaped token in a handmade box, and the man who carved it just for you.
The sun dipped below the horizon, but Charlotte had never felt warmer. She was exactly where she belonged.