I flush, and I’m sure he can see it. Feel it.
But then his voice loses the smile. “You were the first person to see all of me, Juliet. The first person who made me feel like I was worth more than a reputation and a record. That’s the hardest part of losing Cemetery Girl. I don’t know if anyone will look at me that same way again.”
I draw back and put both hands against his chest, then slide them upward until I find his jaw.
He looks away.
“I see all of you,” I say. “And I’m looking at you that way now.”
He takes my hand, puts it over his heart, and holds it there. His eyes close. “You’re killing me, Juliet.”
“Look at me,” I say.
He looks at me.
“You can’t make your own path with your eyes closed,” I tease.
“Watch me.” Then he leans in and captures my mouth with his.
Acknowledgments
Full disclosure: I’m writing this while I’m sick, and my eyes are kind of blurry, and I’m at that emotional part of an illness where you think about people and their kindness and you start crying. So if I sound like a blubbering mess in print, blame Influenza A.
First and foremost, I have to thank my husband. He’s my best friend, my confidant, my rock. (Okay, I’m crying already. Second paragraph. Go me.) He has been unfailingly supportive of my writing career since day one, and I couldn’t do this without him.
Tremendous thanks go to my agent, Mandy Hubbard, who is quite possibly Wonder Woman. (I know you have the gold wristbands, Mandy. ADMIT IT.) One day we will meet in person and I will tackle her with hugs. I imagine this happening in a field of daisies, despite the fact that I wouldn’t even know where to find such a field. Thank you, Mandy, for everything.
Additional tremendous thanks go to my editor, Mary Kate Castellani, whose guidance and vision in the crafting of this novel have been invaluable. You can join me and Mandy in the field of daisies and we can all tackle-hug. Or shake hands, if that’s your thing. But seriously, I am so lucky for the opportunity to work with you. Thank you for everything.
Many thanks to everyone at Bloomsbury who has been working on my behalf. I wish I knew all of your names so I could thank you individually, but please know that I’m very aware that a book “takes a village,” and you’ve all played a part in mine. You have my sincere appreciation. I hope to meet you all one day.
Huge appreciation and love go to my close friends and critique partners, Bobbie Goettler, Alison Kemper, and Sarah Fine. You all mean so much to me, and I’m so lucky to have you in my circle.
This book took a ton of research, from legal issues to photography to automobile repair. Charles “Chuck” Allen, I owe you a lunch (or a dinner, or a restaurant of your own) for all the emails you answered in regards to photography and photojournalism. Officer James Kalinosky of the Baltimore County Police Department has been a constant resource for all matters regarding law enforcement, and this time was no different. Most of my automobile information came from Joe Clipston, Ryan Albers, Stephanie Martin, and Scott Prusik. All of these people provided brilliant assistance. Any errors in print are mine alone.
Many people read early pieces or drafts of this manuscript and provided feedback that helped make this a better finished product. Huge thanks to Jim Hilderbrandt, Nicole Choiniere-Kroeker, Tracy Houghton, Joy Hensley George, Shana Benedict, Nicole Mooney, Amy Clipston, and Michelle MacWhirter.
My heartfelt appreciation goes out to all of my readers, whether this is the first book of mine you’ve read, or if you’ve been along for the ride since you met Becca and Chris in Storm. Without you all, I wouldn’t be able to do what I love. Thank you.
As always, I must thank my mother for her eternal wisdom, guidance, and support, even when I was in second grade, writing a book about a dog. (Which she still pulls out to show people, folks. Seriously.) Finally, as always, tremendous thanks go to the four Kemmerer boys, Jonathan, Nick, Sam, and Baby Zach. Thank you for letting Mommy follow her dreams, while I thank my lucky stars each day for all of you.