The Promise of Us (Sanctuary Sound #2)(99)

“I’m known to have some now and then,” she joked. Her old smile flickered, and Claire couldn’t help but return it. She did rejoice in seeing Peyton looking healthier. Her skin no longer looked sickly.

Claire knew from Logan that she still suffered from bouts of lethargy and depression, and that her weight wouldn’t normalize until after she’d finished the full course of medication. But Peyton put on a brave face in public.

Logan joined them now, having been temporarily detained by Steffi’s father, and wrapped his arms around Claire’s waist. After planting a quick kiss on her neck, he asked, “Peyton, have you heard back from the two agents who asked for the full manuscript yet?”

“No, but it’s only been a few days. I’m sure they have many submissions to read, not to mention work for existing clients.” She squeezed his forearm. “Chill.”

“Imagine how antsy he’d be if he weren’t busy pulling together the installation at KRM Gallery.” Claire craned her neck to catch his eye, proud of the show he hoped would raise money and awareness for the unaccompanied minors still stuck in the refugee camps. His images had tugged at Claire’s heartstrings, and she was certain the installation would be well received.

He released her and nodded. “Patience isn’t really in my DNA.”

“No kidding,” Claire teased.

More people had filled the deck now, eager to catch the vista and the last rays of sun before darkness closed in.

The clanking of a spoon against a glass hushed all conversation as the crowd turned toward the stern, where Ryan had his arm draped over Steffi’s shoulders. He raised his glass and, above the dull roar of the engine, called out, “We want to thank Claire and Peyton for planning this beautiful celebration. We are blessed to have the support of friends and family who wish us well. Who’ve traveled along the winding road that brought us all back together. We can only hope that each of you find as much happiness as we have.”

“Cheers!” cried the crowd before they gulped down their drinks.

Peyton sipped from her glass and smiled, but Claire noted wistfulness in her gaze.

Logan kissed Claire’s temple and whispered, “I’m as happy as Ryan and more.” Then he turned to Peyton. “Sis, how about you? You’ve been living here in a sort of limbo.”

“I’m not in limbo.” She frowned. “I’ve been busy with all of this, revising the manuscript, and preparing for my reconstruction surgery.”

“But are you happy? Are you chasing your dreams?” he asked, referring to her earlier pledge not to waste a single day.

Peyton shrugged. “Everything’s changed. I don’t look at the future the same way as you. I’m just trying to get from one day to the next. I no longer know what my dream is, so how can I chase it?”

“Maybe I could help.” Claire set her glass down on a tray.

“Oh?” Both Peyton and Logan turned curious gazes her way.

“Well, when I lost my way, I dug out our old Lilac Lane League binder. Flipping through those pages put me back in touch with parts of myself that I’d forgotten about. Maybe it’d help you rediscover things about yourself, too. I could drop it off tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Claire. I’d love to see it again.” Peyton’s voice cracked, and her eyes were misty. “Would you two excuse me for a second?”

Before they could answer, she’d ducked down the stairs out of view.

“I think you made her cry . . . happy tears.” Logan squeezed Claire. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, but I didn’t do it for you. Well, not only for you. It’s time—really time—to forgive. Pat was right. In a backward way, Peyton did me a favor by getting Todd to show his true colors. And I’m so happy now, how can I stay bitter?”

“I love you more every single day.” Logan kissed her.

She nestled against him. “Good, because I have a request.”

“Should I be nervous?” He smiled.

“No. With going in and out of the city and taking the few trips to visit your dad’s inns these past two months, I’m feeling bolder. I was thinking, after the gallery opening, maybe we’d finally take our first big trip together, and I know where I want to go.”

His grin broadened. “I’m all ears.”

“You can’t guess?”

He thought for a moment, then remembered their conversation at the bistro. “The Seychelles.”

She nodded. The romantic honeymoon spot they’d talked about had drifted through her thoughts many times in recent weeks. They needn’t be married to enjoy it, although maybe someday . . .

“Done.” He smiled broadly. “And you said the romantic in you had died.”

“You revived it.”

“I’m glad.” He glanced at Ryan and Steffi. “I could never go back to the life I had before you, so don’t ever think about leaving me.”

“I won’t.” She kissed him. “Promise.”





ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

As always, I have many people to thank for helping me bring this book to all of you, not the least of whom are my family and friends for their continued love, encouragement, and support.

Thanks, also, to my agent, Jill Marsal, as well as to my patient editors, Megan Mulder and Krista Stroever, and the entire Montlake family for believing in me and working so hard on my behalf.