Chapter 17 #2
“Yeah. Some might even say it’s dope.” Jake popped the p in dope—clearly making fun of Wyatt, who didn’t seem to notice or care. He just kept smiling and looking at me. Jake looked incensed. I’d never seen this side of him. This immature, machismo version of Jake.
I’d hoped the cringed expression on my face would get Jake to back off. Reset. Realize that antagonizing Wyatt was not going to fly.
Uncomfortable silence. What the fuck, Jake?
“Right. Well . . . Wyatt, we’ll head back in this direction.” I started to usher him away. “See ya later, Jake,” I said through gritted teeth as I pressed into Wyatt’s arm, leading him to follow me.
It wasn’t until late last night, after saying farewell to Wyatt, that I had a chance to let my thoughts about the whole day catch up with me.
Wyatt flirted with everyone he met. Shamelessly.
He didn’t hesitate to invite me back to his room after dinner.
The want in his gaze was undeniable. And the way he spoke to me through dinner—close, raspy, velvety—was meant to lure me.
I let it wash over me for a while. Enjoyed the attention. But it washed away just as quickly.
When his hand brushed against mine, there was warmth. A tingle. A clear invitation. It was entertaining. Flattering even, but there was no spark.
And after feeling the air shift like the moment before lightning strikes every time Jake so much as looked at me, I knew I would never settle for anything less again.
But the way Jake had treated Wyatt yesterday was infuriating. He was rude. Possessive. Childish. He could have offended Wyatt and jeopardized everything we’d—no, I’d—worked for. His behavior embarrassed me. It made me feel like I’d done something wrong.
When he’d walked over to us in front of the café, I looked into his eyes, searching for the cosmic breeze of calm to steady my nerves. Instead, I saw jealousy.
He was jealous! Threatened by Wyatt!
The thought was laughable.
Wyatt was model-handsome and incredibly well connected. He was a wind-in-his hair flirt. Bold, yes, but also didn’t stick around to dig deep. It was all surface and flash in the pan.
Jake was real. He was rooted. Reliable. And displayed admirable strength of character. The kind of guy who will fix your roof without being asked. Jake may be a man of few words, but every one of them mattered and he was honest.
He had nothing to worry about next to a man like Wyatt Sinclair.
But he’d wavered yesterday. And in that hesitation, he’d implied, what—that I was careless?
That I could be swept away? That I wasn’t serious about the role I’d stepped into here?
The thought burned hotter the longer I held it.
It crawled up my spine and settled sharply behind my ribs until I couldn’t tell if I was hurt, furious, or both.
I walked—okay, maybe I stomped (I had to make a point)—onto the dock where Jake was waiting for me to plunge.
He’d turned fully toward me now, a sleepy grin tugging at his face, the sky behind him just beginning to blush orange with morning light.
The sky. Him. It was picturesque and a sight I wasn’t sure I would ever tire of.
But even while that thought sent a swoony tingle into the base of my belly, I made sure my face was stone cold. I was ready to get into this with him.
“Don’t make me smile,” I muttered. “I’m still mad at you.”
“For yesterday?” he asked, feigning innocence. “Come on—that guy was a total douche.”
“So what? I worked hard to get him here, Jake. He’s important to this campaign.” I untied my robe, already annoyed. The cool morning air touched my bare skin, and gooseflesh ran down the length of my body.
“It looked to me like he was having a hard time seeing past you.”
I paused, toeing off my flip-flops and feeling the rough wood of the warped dock. “He was a little flirty. It was harmless. Don’t confuse that for a lack of focus.”
“I didn’t like it.”
“Why? I had it handled. He loves Lakeside. His platform could do big things for this town.” I ran a hand through my hair, deciding I’d go all in this morning. Full plunge. Everything shower after.
Jake crossed his arms. “All well and good—but he doesn’t need to exploit you in the process.”
That landed like a rock between us.
“He wasn’t exploiting me,” I said carefully. “He was friendly. It’s the business, Jake.”
Jake scoffed. “He wanted to sleep with you, Ali. That’s not ‘friendly.’ That’s opportunistic.”
I straightened up. “So, what—you think the only reason he came here was to screw me?”
“No. Not the only reason,” he said. “But yeah . . . I know how guys think. And for someone like him? Getting to sleep with you would be a bonus for his good deed of promoting Lakeside.”
“Wow. Real nice.” My voice sharpened. “You really think so little of me that you’d assume I trade on charm and that I would accept a man thinking he’s owed something? It almost sounds like you’re implying I’d whore myself for promotion.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“No, but you might as well have. I’ve heard it all before. I just never thought I’d hear it from you.” I grabbed the robe and slipped it back on. “Forget the plunge. I’m done.”
The dock jolted and the wood squeaked as I stomped in the direction of the house.
“Ali, wait—shit. I’m sorry. Please don’t go. This is coming out all wrong.”
I stopped but didn’t turn. “You think I’m doing this for show?
This town, this campaign, the work? I’ve been pouring everything I have into this.
Not just for Lakeside—for me. To prove .
. .” Tears caught in the back of my throat as the sharp pain behind my ribs turned to stabbing at my heart. My breath hitched.
“I’m exhausted. Not from the work—I love the work. I’m exhausted from constantly having to prove myself. To earn respect. To earn trust. To earn . . . love.”
My voice cracked on that last word. I swallowed hard.
“Your assumptions—your jealousy of Wyatt—they say a lot more about what you think of me. And what really makes me angry is that you don’t get to feel entitled to that jealousy. I don’t owe you any explanation for who I spend my time with—or how. ”
Then I walked away, barefoot on the dock, my robe trailing behind me.
I spent the rest of the morning in a foul mood, so I went to the market for a distraction. I wasn’t scheduled to work, but there was plenty to be done. I lost myself in rearranging shelves.
I felt Betsy and Eric tiptoeing around me. Constantly poking their heads in my direction.
“What?” I asked, a frosty bite in my tone.
“We’re all just wondering what those seed packets ever did to you?” Eric asked.
“Whatever you’re going through, just make sure you get through the slamming phase before you start to set up the new pottery arrivals from Abigail’s studio,” Betsy said. “We don’t need half the merchandise damaged out of the box.”
“Put the screen up to her,” I heard Misha say over Eric’s phone. Probably on FaceTime. Eric walked over and held his phone up, Misha’s face on the glass. “Girl, where is all this aggression coming from? Was Wyatt a jerk or something?” he asked.
“It’s all fine. I’m fine. Everything. Is. Fine,” I said with some force.
“Sure . . . totally fine. Your death grip on that box is totally normal . . .”
I scowled at Misha’s sarcasm. Eric audibly gulped.
“I think I might have something to do with it.” I looked up to the new voice in the group.
“Who’s that? Eric, love, please keep up. I need a 360-degree view,” Misha said.
“It’s Jake. I think I should walk away now,” Eric mumbled into the phone. He gave a closed-mouth smile toward Jake, pulled the phone toward his chest, and started to walk away.
Misha’s voice trailed, “Well, now I can’t see anything. Babe. Babe, I need a play-by-play.”
Jake stood stock-still right behind me. I felt his tall stature. Smelled his cedar scent. I continued to rummage with the seed packets.
“Hey,” he said, his voice a hush meant to calm me.
I breathed in his presence. Kept my eyes focused on my task.
“Ali. Please. Look at me at least.”
I paused my busied hands and tilted my head in his direction.
My eyes squinted with a stone-cold glare fixed on him.
Jake stood with one hand in his pocket, and the other held an awkward bundle of thin stems of flat-faced, faded-denim-blue blossoms with a pop of yellow at the eyes. Forget-me-nots. Delicate and fleeting.
“I’m sorry. I was an ass,” he said calmly, sincerely. “These are for you.” And he extended the bouquet.
“It’s fine,” I said, shrugging off the tension and rolling my eyes a little bit as I took the flowers.
“I know that it’s not. I was incredibly unfair to you, and I was being stupid. I’d like to explain, if you’ll hear me out.”
After a beat, I looked up at him over the flowers and nodded.
He noticed all eyes on us.
“Are you up for a hike?”
I paused and looked at Betsy.
“You weren’t on the schedule today anyway. Go. Shoo.”
He drove us to the edge of a trailhead that I’d not yet explored.
“We’ll pick up the path here. There’s a meadow I want to share with you. I don’t think anyone knows about it.”
Share with me? The words Jake chose to use. He knew they mattered, which made what happened this morning even more painful.
I nodded and pushed open the truck door. Lucky for me, the clothes I’d chosen to wear for grunt work today also worked for hiking in meadows.
My appearance, clothing, everything, had become more practical living here in Lakeside. I hadn’t purchased anything new for myself in what felt like a very long time. I also realized that I really didn’t miss the pressure of constantly having to update my closet with the latest designer or trend.
We walked in silence at first, the gravel path crunching softly beneath our feet. It was a gorgeous day. Summer had made up its mind to arrive in full.
Jake cleared his throat. “I really am sorry that I behaved the way I did in front of Wyatt. And then for what I said this morning. You didn’t deserve any of it,” he said.