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Chapter 1
Ella took a seat on the Greyhound bus just like she had every third Friday of the month. It had been her routine ever since her dad got sent to prison eight years ago. Her brothers hated that she took the trip and wished she could just forget about their dad like they had, but she couldn’t bring herself to abandon the man who once kissed her boo-boos and carried her on his shoulders. Convicted felon or not, he was and always would be her dad, and she held hope that her family’s wounds would one day heal, that forgiveness wouldn’t be a dream but a reality.
She closed her eyes, envisioning her three brothers, dad, and grandfather sitting together at the dining room table, passing plates of spaghetti around, joking and laughing, just like they once had before everything had gone so terribly wrong.
The fantasy eased the tension in her shoulders and the emotional knots in her stomach she always got after seeing her dad dressed in the same canary yellow prison uniform he wore like a badge of shame and regret.
Yellow used to be her favorite color, but now it just reminded her of her father’s crimes and of the time that was taken from them. He wasn’t there to take pictures with her for senior prom or high school graduation. He didn’t get to teach her to drive or wish her good luck as she left for college. So much time was taken from them because he chose to break the law.
While she didn’t agree with the choices her father had made and wished he would have taken a different path, she could almost understand.
He wanted to take care of his family after losing his wife, and instead of swallowing his pride and asking his own parents for help, he found his answers in dealing drugs. In the end, he lost the house, his family, and his freedom.
“Is this seat taken?” a masculine voice asked, and Ella opened her eyes, completely taken by the handsome stranger pointing to the spot beside her. His dark blond hair was cut short and stylishly swept to the side. His piercing blue eyes were as beautiful as the sky on a warm spring day, vibrant and inviting.
A brown leather messenger bag hung from his broad shoulders, and the sleeves to his dress shirt were rolled up, revealing tanned arms.
“Hi,” Ella said with a goofy grin on her face.
He arched an eyebrow in her direction and swept his gaze back toward the empty seat. “So is someone sitting here?” he asked.
“Oh! No.” Heat exploded in her cheeks, spreading down her chest. She’d been openly staring like he was a model on a poster and not an actual living breathing man. Ella snatched her bag from the seat and placed it on her lap. “Sorry about that. It’s all yours.”
He offered a smile and stepped out of the aisle, letting the people behind him pass. “It’s quite all right,” he said, easing the strap from his bag down his arm. He sat, surrounding her in a mouth-watering aroma of leather and cedarwood, and pulled out a laptop.
“Not from around here, huh?” she asked.
He turned to her, those two perfect sapphires filling with curiosity. “What makes you say that?”
“Your arms,” she said, nodding to the tanned skin poking out of his crisp white and blue plaid shirt.
He laughed. “My arms?”
“You don’t get a tan like that in the northeast until at least July.”
“I could’ve gone on vacation to somewhere tropical.”
“Possibly, but then there’s also the University of California sticker on your laptop.” She pointed to the blue and yellow insignia.
He followed her finger, and the edge of his lip quirked. “You’re very observant.”
“My grandfather would call it nosy.”
“Are you close with your grandfather?”
“I am.” Close didn’t even begin to describe their bond. He was the foundation that kept her standing from one tragedy to the next—an unbreakable force who helped her keep one foot in front of the other. It was why after her grandmother passed away she knew what she had to do.
College had always been the goal. She wanted to be the first in her family to get a degree, then make a name for herself in the interior design world, but her grandfather had carried her on his shoulders time and time again; it was her turn to return the favor.
“I actually live with him.”
It was only supposed to be temporary, a year at best, but seven years later she was still there. The degree she dreamed about—walking across the stage to receive while her family cheered her on in the audience—was nothing more than a distant memory.
But she was okay with that. For seven years she got to know her grandfather even more and when the time came when he would take his last breath—hopefully not anytime soon—she would be grateful for all the time they’d had together. It was time she never got with either her mother or her grandmother.
“That’s kind of funny actually.”
“Why is that?”
