Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
Keri
I toss and turn all night long. I finally force myself to get up and go through the motions of an ordinary day.
I shower and get dressed. I meticulously apply my makeup and do my hair.
I make coffee. I sit at my mammoth desk and stare at the wood-paneled walls surrounding me, my mind filtering through ideas on how I can turn this space into a gallery of sorts.
By sunrise, I’m fit to be tied, ready to proclaim my commitment to the man that I love.
Our call is scheduled for eight in the morning, Dan insisting we start early to make sure the Parisian team will be ready in their time zone, six hours ahead. All of these time changes are crazy. I’m just thankful we’re going to get this over with today.
Even in the early morning, the heat presses down, the latest summer wave unrelenting.
Blasting the air conditioner as I drive, I lower the sun visor, shielding my eyes from the glare.
My suitcase waits in the trunk. I’m ready to move home and be with Adam.
Still, I hope my need for space hasn’t hurt him.
With an incredible spirit of giving, he expects nothing in return.
Despite the pain he’s endured, he carries himself with humility and a gentle heart—a heart I’m not willing to break.
He’s always been that way. A man grateful for the sun, the waves, the mountains, and the natural world we live in.
He enjoys a cup of hot coffee, walking his dog, a chat with a stranger, and the chance to love on whoever is around him.
I can imagine him sitting at the kitchen table with Molly asleep by his feet, his tight tee accentuating his broad shoulders and the hard muscles of his arms. His hair grazing his shoulders in sexy waves.
Thinking about him has me all worked up, especially today.
I feel the memories of Adam Woodbury pushing at my seams, their contents threatening to burst. The sound of his baritone voice, the smell of his skin, the taste of his kiss.
That look he gives me with his tawny eyes before we make love.
I grip the steering wheel a little tighter, my blood thrumming with excitement knowing we’re about to be reunited.
I don’t know if it’s the field of sunflowers I passed, or the Rand McNally map I highlighted last night, or the time I took to ponder the decision that has me feeling like the wayward pieces of myself are sliding back into place.
I just know I belong here in Heartsboro with Adam.
I’ve found what makes me happy, and I’m ready to settle into it.
I park on the graveled driveway, surprised I’m not greeted by Molly or Adam.
For a brief second, I wonder if he’s even here.
But then I see his camper van parked down by the creek, chairs placed around the center of our last fire.
The front door of the house is unlocked, and I make my way in.
I hesitate in the doorway of the kitchen.
The surrounding air smells like him. Coffee and sunlight and the faint scent of musk.
“Hey,” I say quietly.
He looks up from his laptop, eyes shadowed but gentle. “You’re early.”
“I couldn’t sleep.” I try to smile. “Guess I thought I’d beat the traffic.”
He chuckles at my little joke. He looks tired, his hair slipping from behind his ears, his sky-blue tee wrinkled across his chest.
“What are you working on?”
He hesitates before he shifts his laptop toward me. “Before we get on this call, there’s something I want you to see… something I’d like to show you. Please, have a seat.”
I’m nervous and excited, my blood humming like a million bees under glass. “Okay.”
I get comfortable sitting across from him. He leans forward and presses a button, the computer flickering to life. Suddenly, my face fills the entire screen—not the version I’ve trained myself to show the world, but something raw and unguarded.
I blink, startled. “When did you take this?”
“In between the poses,” he says quietly. “When you stopped performing.”
My gaze lingers on the image, confusion slowly melting into awed recognition. It’s as if I am seeing myself unveiled for the first time. An honest wonder flutters in my chest. Adam is silent, reverence glimmering in his eyes, as if a single word might shatter the fragile magic between us.
Adam has taken thousands of photos of me, but none have ever caught this.
My humanity, my freedom, the soft light beneath the practiced pageant smile and years of disappointment.
My throat tightens. The image shimmers with truth.
I’ve spent years chasing beauty other people defined through pageants, photoshoots, and brochures, always smiling the way I thought they wanted me to.
But here, through Adam’s keen eye, this is the real me. Laughter that needs no permission. The woman who doesn’t have to be perfect. Once again, I hear his poignant words:
“No matter how I feel or how the world seems, when I take my camera and pay close enough attention, I’m able to uncover the beauty hidden in plain sight through everything else going on.
As hard as it is sometimes, I keep seeking the light.
I’ve learned over the years that it’s always available. I just have to choose to see it.”
The refrigerator hums in the kitchen, and I can hear a noisy flock of birds flying over the house outside. We don’t say anything, and in that comfortable silence, I realize I will never need Paris to see myself. I just need Adam.
“They want me because they think I fit their idea of beauty,” I whisper. “But you”—I look right at him, my voice trembling with clarity—“you are the magic behind the image. You shone your light on me.”
Adam’s phone alarm goes off, indicating that our meeting will start in a few minutes. We both stare at it vibrating on the table. It feels like it belongs to someone else.
“I thought Paris was my dream,” I say, each word steadying me.
“But it was never really mine to begin with. It wouldn’t have happened without you.
I want to thank you for capturing me as a real person, not an image.
I don’t want to live a life that only looks beautiful from a distance.
I want one that feels beautiful up close. ”
Adam stands, and I follow his lead. He takes a step closer but doesn’t touch me. The air between us is charged with love and electricity.
“I want to stay,” I say softly. “And I want you and Dan to give Pierre the option to use the photos you’ve already captured at Feather Falls. It’s a win-win for all of us. He could easily use the images in his campaign, and I wouldn’t have to set foot on foreign soil. I wouldn’t have to leave you.”
His eyes press shut, his jaw clenching to thwart off a slight smile. When he finally looks at me again, his voice is low and pleading. “Don’t do this for me. Do it for you. This is totally your decision, and I’ll support you no matter what.”
The knot inside me finally unravels. For the first time in years, I can breathe. I look around the kitchen, the quiet pulse of truth filling the air. I don’t want to model someone else’s vision. I want Adam’s magic behind the lens to be the focus.
“I want us to start something here,” I say slowly. “Something real. Our own collaboration, with no filters or edits. Just authenticity, blending our two stories together.”
His mouth curves, pride glinting in his eyes. He gets closer, his large hands cupping my face. “I’ve always said people love a good story. This sounds like the best thing you’ve ever come up with.”
“The best thing we’ve ever come up with,” I correct him.
I laugh through the tears I hadn’t noticed were falling.
I’m drunk on his smile. I lean into his embrace, desperate to feel his arms wrap around me, our hearts pressed together as one.
I want my hands in his hair, my lips on his mouth.
I want to stay here in our rundown kitchen in the country in Adam’s arms, with morning light streaming through the windows.
Molly panting at our feet. I don’t want to leave.
I never want to be away from this man again.
We both jump at the sound of his phone going off for a second time, the ringtone an indication that our meeting is about to start.
We pull back from one another in surprise.
Drenched in light, the soft gaze he gives me is one I know well—one part devotion, one part protection.
It’s a gentle stare, as if he’s looking into me rather than at me.
I feel an immediate sense of safety and tenderness in his presence.
I’m bold and reach for his phone, switching it off. “They can wait an extra minute or two while we seal this deal with a kiss.”
He grins as I grasp his face between my hands and lean forward, pressing my lips against his. My larger-than-life image on his computer screen looks on. The one where I’m laughing mid-breath, alive, and free. I can almost hear the goose-honking echoing in the air.
The photo Adam captured is a declaration.
And it feels like the beginning of… everything.