Where I Belong

By Cameron Hart

Addison: I never thought I'd be back in my small midwestern hometown, but when my gran took a fall, I booked the next flight home. Or, what used to be home. I'm not sure where I belong anymore.

My gran's too-charming, too-sexy, too-good-to-be-true neighbor keeps showing up and helping out, despite me trying to keep him at arm's length. His smoldering looks and sweet kisses might just be my undoing.

I wonder if Everett will stick around once he finds out the real reason I left...

Everett: She's it for me. I knew it the moment she walked into my bar.

She's scared though. I know she has a past, and she doesn't think she deserves a happily ever after, but I'm going to do everything in my power to prove her wrong. I can be patient. I can be everything she never knew she needed.

Addison is mine, even if she doesn't know it yet.

** Trigger Warning: Where I Belong describes past abuse that happened to one of the main characters. **

What to expect from a Cameron Hart book: Lots of heat, plenty of sweet, and just enough drama to keep things interesting. No cheating, safe, guaranteed HEA!

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cameron Hart
• Release date: Nov 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223820758

Cameron Hart

Hello. I'm Cameron Hart, and I write sweet steamy romances. I’m a USA Today Bestselling author with over forty books available. I write romance with lots of heat, plenty of sweet, and just enough drama to keep things interesting. I graduated from the Iowa Writer’s Workshop in 2012 with a degree in creative writing. When I’m not working on my next book, I can be found reading, crocheting, doing yoga, and chasing around my grumpy cats. **What to expect from a Cameron Hart book: Lots of heat, plenty of sweet, and just enough drama to keep things interesting. No cheating, safe, guaranteed HEA!**

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One look at the stunning waitress carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders, and I’m a goner. I wasn’t looking for a sweet little thing with auburn hair and more baggage than I can fit on the back of my bike, but there’s no going back now. She’s mine. I’ll prove to her I’m more than capable of handling her past and making her feel safe again.

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Chapter 1

Addison

I watch the patchwork of farmland spread out before me as the plane begins its descent to the Des Moines airport. I never thought I’d be back in Iowa.

A lot of people think I left right after high school because I found my small hometown boring, or that I was too good for it. I got plenty of disapproving glares and scoffs when I told people I was going to the University of Washington instead of saving money and staying closer to home.

Truthfully, I planned on staying in Iowa forever. I took great pride in being from flyover country. You could get lost in the sunrise out here, stretching on for miles, melting over the low rolling hills into the banks of the Mississippi. It is the land of stubborn morals and strict work ethics. Rich soil, rich souls.

There were a thousand reasons to love Iowa, but just one reason to leave. After that night, the town felt suffocating, conversations felt overwhelming, just being in an enclosed space made my skin crawl and throat tighten. I spent my senior year applying for scholarships to out of state colleges and saving up for my escape.

By the time I graduated high school, I’d isolated myself so much I had no friends left who would miss me. No one at all, really, except my gran. My parents weren’t the most stable people, so when I was eight, I was all too happy to move in with my grandma forever. She filled my life with so love and grace I didn’t have room to feel abandoned by my parents. Gran was the only one I missed when I moved away. She didn't know what happened, but she let me go all the same.

I haven’t been back in six years, but I got a call yesterday from Mercy Hospital in Des Moines, saying gran fell and broke her hip and collarbone. They told me she needed someone to take care of her while she recovered. Gran will need physical therapy and possible follow-up surgeries, which means it could be up to six months of recovery.

I didn't have to think twice; I hopped on the next plane out of Seattle, packing whatever I could cram into my duffle bag and backpack. The first few hours of the plane ride I spent worrying about gran, feeling guilty as fuck that I wasn’t there for her and chastising myself for not calling her every day. I mean, how hard is it to pick up a phone? The woman raised me and I can’t even bother to talk to her for ten minutes a day.

But then I heard her soothing voice in my head as I imagined what she’d say to me. You’re doing the best you can with the hand life dealt, lovie. Most of the time, I believe it. I have a lot of regrets, but I do think I’m doing my best to pick up the pieces and move on.

I spent the last hour wondering who’s still in town, what they’ll say, and how long I’ll be part of the rumor mill before something else more exciting comes along. Now, as the wheels touch down, a different feeling comes over me. I feel like everything is about to change.

After shuffling through baggage claim, I grab an Uber from the airport and head straight to the hospital. I take a deep breath before squaring my shoulders and walking up to the front desk.

Hello, dear, are you looking for someone?

Yes, my gran. Dorothy Carlson.

"Oh, Dorothy is such a card, isn't she? We've loved having her, though of course, it's unfortunate we had to meet her under these circumstances. She's been such a trooper though with her collarbone and hip. What a nasty fall that must have been!"

I have to smile at her response. I’m pretty sure she’s breaking some sort of HIPPA law by telling me about gran’s injuries. But damn if she isn’t the friendliest person I’ve met since before I moved away.

I know, I feel awful that I wasn’t there for her. I’m hoping to stop in and see her, it’s a bit of a surprise.

"Oh! She’ll just die of happiness! The nurse’s eyes go wide. I mean, not literally. Oh, my, that wasn’t the right thing to say, was it?"

I laugh and wave my hand in the air. I understand what you mean.

Okay then. She’s in room 224, just down the hall and to your left.

Thanks so much, I look down at her badge, Cindy.

She smiles. Of course, dear. What’s your name?

I’m a little out of practice when it comes to talking to people. The last few years have been all about keeping a low profile. I don’t really like revealing too much about myself, even my name if I can help it. But I don’t want to be rude.

Addison. I finally say. The nurse shakes my hand and points me in the direction of gran’s room. I thank her again and head down the hall.

My first interaction with a person since landing and I think it went well.

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I get to gran's room and I almost burst into tears. Not only is seeing her again overwhelming and tugging at all of my heartstrings, but seeing her laid out in bed with casts and tubes and monitors all around her has me choking down a sob.

I take a deep breath and get my shit together.

Be strong for her. Be strong for you. You can’t afford to lose your shit on day one.

I step in the room and quietly set my bags down on the floor before pulling a chair up next to her bed. She looks so peaceful in her sleep.

Gran cracks one eye open and glances at me in a mischievous way only she could pull off while strapped down to a hospital bed.

Oh, Addy! I thought you were a nurse. I like to pretend to be asleep so they don’t bother me.

I laugh and take her hand, tears burning behind my eyes despite my efforts to keep them at bay. Gran is as feisty as ever and I didn’t realize how much I missed her until this moment.

Well get on over here, child. I need a hug, not some damn hand-holding after six long years!

I stand up and carefully lean over her bed, wrapping my arms around her. Resting my head on her good shoulder, I breathe in her familiar lilac smell. I let my tears fall as she holds me.

There, there, Addy. I’m okay. Shoo, shoo, sweet child, gran coos in my ear. She always knows what to say – and just as important, what not to say. I don’t know why you left, but I’m so glad you’re here now. Thank you for coming.

We stay like that for a few minutes, but then gran pats me on the back, signaling we’re done with the pity party.

Now. I assume they told you I fell? And I’ll need some surgeries?

Yeah, what happened, gran?

Oh, you know, it was a silly thing. The porch light was out, and I got up on a chair to change it, but the damn legs gave out and I went tumbling down. She rolls her eyes like it’s no big deal, but it breaks my heart. As much as I don’t want to admit it, gran is getting older. She’s in her seventies now, and if I were here she wouldn’t have to worry about things like changing the porch light. A wave of guilt floods through me, but I try to keep it from reaching my face.

Anyway, gran continues. My neighbor found me and rushed me to the ER. All dramatics, I tell you. I assured him I’d be fine until morning when I could just go see the family physician – you remember Dr. Price, don’t you, Addy? I nod, humoring gran. But he didn’t listen. Drove me to the hospital himself. She rolls her eyes again. "By morning, the doctor transferred me over here, despite my many, many objections."

Well, I'm glad your neighbor found you. I'm so sorry I wasn't here, gran.

Oh, pish posh. She waves away my concern with her good arm. These things happen. You’re here now, ain’t ya? That’s family. Showing up when you’re needed, even if it means fighting through your demons.

She gives me a pointed look that lets me know we’re going to be having a conversation later, but she lets it slide for now.

I take her hand again and squeeze it. I’m not ready to talk about it yet, but I’m glad I’m here. I’ve missed her so much. So fucking much.

I’m about due for another round of pain meds, which knocks me on my ass. You, my dear, could use a shower. No offense. I laugh and nod. I know I’m a hot mess from the last-minute travel. Why don’t you go on home now? It’s only about an hour away. You can come back in the morning. I have my first surgery at ten.

A shower does sound pretty great right about now.

It’s settled then. Go on back home, the key is under the flowerpot like always. My car keys are in the dish on the breakfast bar, go ahead and use the car as you need.

I nod and lean in for another hug. It’s so good to see you, gran. I’ll be back tomorrow.

She gives me a squeeze and then I stand up and head out to find another Uber back to my tiny hometown of Ogden. I don’t think I’m ready for this.

***

The Uber drops me off at my old house as a wave of nostalgia hits. It’s the same, and yet different. The yellow siding is faded, the white shutters slightly crooked. The porch has sunken a little, and the yard could use a little TLC. My gran always loved gardening, but I’m guessing she hasn’t been up for much of it these last few years. I resolve to fix up the garden for her so she has some bright flowers to greet her when she gets home.

I step out of the car and make my way up to the door. The flowerpot is where it’s always been, but the key is not. I look under the doormat and even dig in the dirt of the pot, but no luck. I continue my search around the porch, but I can't find the damn key anywhere.

Heading to the back of the house, I hope maybe the backdoor is unlocked. It isn't. I start tugging on the windows, thinking maybe one will give. We never used to lock the windows or the back door for that matter. Then again, we always had each other. Now that gran is all alone, I'm sure she's taking more precautions to be safe. More guilt piles on my shoulders.

I should have been here for her.

I continue my search, now on my hands and knees in the grass in front of the porch. I hear a car pull up, and I and stand from my position in the yard.

It’s a police car. I’d recognize the face of the man in the driver’s seat anywhere. Tommy. I’ve seen his face in my nightmares for years. I can’t believe he’s here.

All the air drains from my lungs and my stomach rolls violently. I feel physically ill. I knew I’d probably run into him, there