The Family You Make (Sunrise Cove #1)(57)

She gave a stunned nod. “I think it’s from my grandpa. He’s the only other person who would know what such a gift would mean to me.”

“Can you ask him?”

“I haven’t talked to him in twenty years.”

He didn’t look judgy or horrified. He merely nodded. “I can understand why.” Gently, he rubbed the pad of his thumb over the back of her hand, which was gripping her beer bottle with a white-knuckled grip. “What do you want to do?”

She wasn’t sure. Did she want to make contact? Her first instinct was no, a decision made by hurt. But suddenly she wasn’t sure. Wariness kept beating back her curiosity, but maybe it was time to let go of the past and make a present for herself. “I don’t know,” she said quietly. “If I just show up, I might upset him.”

Levi continued to hold her hand, and she wondered if he knew that simple touch was the only thing keeping her grounded.

“If he’s the one who got you the ornament, he already knows you’re here,” he pointed out. “You won’t be a surprise. He gave you the ornament knowing you’d figure out who it came from. I’m betting he’s expecting you.”

She looked into his calm eyes. “But what if he’s not? What if he’s unhappy to see me. I can’t . . .” She let her gaze break from his. “I don’t want to be turned away.”

Levi gently cupped her face, bringing it back around. “Either way, going to see him or not, you’re in the driver’s seat now. You can’t make a wrong move.”

She nodded, empowered by the reminder. “I’m just . . . wary. I don’t know how to trust this. I have no idea what he expects. But you’re right. This isn’t about him, it’s about me and what I want. And what I want is for bygones to be bygones, because family matters.”

“I agree, family does matter. But it only works if it’s a give-and-take.”

“He did make the first move,” she said. “Sort of.”

He nodded, keeping a hold on her hand, gaze solemn. He was taking this seriously. He was taking her seriously. Just as Charlotte had, and Jane realized how much that meant. “When I lived with my grandparents . . . it was the best time of my entire childhood,” she admitted.

“There’s no harm in reaching out and seeing what’s up.”

How did he always make everything sound so simple, so easy, so right? She had no idea. All she knew was that when she was with him, she felt like she could do anything.

Their pizza came, and she practically fell onto it, inhaling the best-tasting loaded pie she’d ever had. “Oh my God,” she said around a mouthful.

“Right?” Levi was working on his own big slice. “Only yesterday, I’d have said heaven on earth.”

“What changed since yesterday?”

“I have a new favorite taste,” he said, and laughed when she blushed.

She put her hands on her cheeks. “Are you always such a flirt?”

“No.”

“So why me?”

He smiled at her. “Because when I’m with you, I feel like . . . me.”

Everything inside her softened at that. Because the truth was, she felt the exact same way, which meant he was dangerous to her heart and soul. She decided to concentrate on eating rather than messy things like feelings. “I’m starving,” she said, grabbing another piece. “Didn’t get any breaks today.”

“You work too hard.”

She shrugged. “Not more than anyone else.”

His look said he disagreed, but he let it go. He told her about his day, how he was balancing his own work with helping out his parents with the store’s accounting, making her laugh with the antics of Jasper, the goldendoodle. How he’d put his nose where it didn’t belong on the poor UPS guy and now they couldn’t get their deliveries. And then there was the dog’s choice of snacks—his humans’ belongings, like his niece’s socks.

“Maybe they’re just lost,” Jane said on a laugh.

“He horked up the evidence on the kitchen floor while we were eating breakfast, along with a pair of my mom’s underwear—nude lace.” He shuddered, looking so pained, she nearly snorted her beer out her nose. “No,” she gasped.

“Oh yes. There was a lot of screaming. My ears are still ringing.”

She laughed in sympathy and then eyed the last piece of pizza.

Levi nudged it toward her.

“I couldn’t,” she said, trying to mean it. “You take it.”

“It’s got your name on it. I’m full.”

She was halfway through the piece when she caught him smiling at her. Not laughing at her, just genuinely smiling. And yet . . . she realized that his smile was missing its usual wattage. “It was sweet of you to come to my work to see me,” she said. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He grimaced a little at the sweet. “I wanted to make it easier for you to communicate to me whatever you needed to.”

“I’m sorry I accused you of leaving me the ornament,” she said on a wince. “Not my finest moment.”

“I understand.”

She met his gaze. “Are you sure? Because I feel like something’s bothering you.”