Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
Jonah
I came in from the shop to make a sandwich out of the roast Summer had cooked two nights ago.
My stomach had been rumbling for the stuff all morning.
I didn’t usually bother with breakfast. I preferred to get lost in my work, but staying in the shop all day made me antsy when Summer was in my house.
The snow was cleaned off the concrete pads in front of the garage and the shop. My driveway was clear. The wind had diminished to a light breeze. All we were waiting on was the roads to get cleared. I took my gear off and found Summer on the couch. Again. Just like yesterday.
She’d gone from Die Hard to Final Destination to Twister. An eclectic mix. Now she was on Legally Blonde, curled up in the same corner of my couch, wrapped in a throw quilt Mom had made me when I’d first moved in.
Her blond hair was sticking out, too pale from what I was used to.
Her hair was like her shampoo. A hint of strawberry.
Not that I’d paid attention, but the rare times I’d caught a glimpse of her roaming through town, she’d looked different.
She’d been more polished with each sighting.
Her hair was lighter, her nails always done instead of plain, and her clothing looked more and more city and less like the jeans and T-shirts she used to run around in.
A younger Summer had always appeared ready to run the distillery or jump on the back of a horse. Present-day Summer was a step away from the investment banking world of her douche ex.
A younger Summer had come to my hospital room, dressed like an angel in a loose white top, skin-hugging blue jeans, and well-worn cowboy boots.
She’d sat on the edge of my bed and put her hand over mine.
At the time, I’d been going through brutal physical therapy on that arm.
She’d sat on my left side, and she hadn’t been afraid to touch me or look me in the eye.
She’d been properly sympathetic and absolutely gorgeous.
The grief and anguish in her eyes had matched my own.
Her skin had slid against mine, a slice of heaven in my fog of pain.
I had only wanted her to keep touching me.
My fingertips had tingled with the urge to stroke her.
The guilt and shame had staggered me. So I’d turned into an absolute prick and run her off.
The movie finished and she scrolled through a list for more.
“Find anything good?” I asked to fill the silence between us. After our dinner together the other night and her cry in the bathroom, she’d been subdued.
I did not like a subdued Summer.
She lifted a shoulder. “Do you want to watch something?”
I wanted to see her smile. I wanted to hear her laugh. It’d been so damn long since I’d heard her laugh.
I wasn’t exactly a comedy connoisseur. I played all kinds of music in my shop and sometimes I listened to podcasts and the news. “Know any funny shows?”
Her blank stare stayed on the TV. “No.”
If I was the one who’d put out her fire, I’d never forgive myself. “Douchebag didn’t believe in comedy, so you gave it up too?”
She frowned, but a spark of light flamed deep in her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’re a sad sack, and I can’t stand it.”
Her mouth dropped open. “My wedding—”
“Turned into a shit show. I was there.”
“I don’t know how bad of a shit show—”
“Does it matter?”
“Jonah—”
“Summer.”
She narrowed her eyes on me. “You’re interrupting me.”
“I learned it from this annoying girlfriend of my brother’s.”
Her lips twitched. “I did not interrupt you.”
“Please. I couldn’t finish one thought before you were telling me how I should be doing something differently.”
She gave her head a small shake, but a small smile appeared. “You’re being a dick on purpose.”
“As opposed to . . .”
A faint giggle left her. “There’s something to be said for self-awareness.”
“I’m very aware of myself, sunshine.” The endearment slipped out, and I couldn’t take it back. I also didn’t care to.
Astonishment flickered over her face. “I got in my head.”
Grateful she’d ignored the pet name, I kept the humor going. “Scary place to be.”
That earned me a scowl.
I crossed the expanse of the living room. My leg was achy from the snow removal and my knee was especially threatening. I should’ve grabbed a cane, but I wasn’t making a U-turn.
Dropping onto the couch, I let out a breath. Fire laced through my hip. I needed to stretch and get a massage. Neither would be happening soon. Summer wouldn’t be here much longer, and now that she was opening up, I didn’t want to miss the show.
“The roads should be clear tomorrow,” she said.
“Yup.” I changed my weight to my good hip. “Pick a movie.”
“What if I don’t know any funny ones?”
“Then watch one of the bridal shows you didn’t want to touch the other night. See if you’re ready to return home.”
She was in the middle of lifting the remote when she paused. “You know what? I think you’re onto something.”
Screens flashed as she scrolled through different menus. “Here. Maybe it’ll make me feel better.”
“Runaway Bride is a little on the nose, isn’t it?”
She rolled her eyes and cuddled into the corner of the couch, drawing the throw up to her chin. “If I can’t take it, I can’t go home.” Her eyes widened. “Oh, I mean, I’ll go. I don’t need to keep crashing—”
“I know what you mean. If you need longer, you can stay. I’ll try to figure out how to get everything done around you.”
The corner of her mouth hooked up. “You interrupted me again.”
“I learned from the best.”
She laughed. “I wonder who it was.” A wistful sigh left her. “Do you have popcorn?”
“Nope.” The same food had been in my cupboards for years.
“A sweet wine or maybe a Summer’s Summit?” She lifted her brow. Summer’s Summit was the line made for her. Darin Bailey had made all his kids a special blend.
Cold shrank my good humor. “I don’t have alcohol in the house.”
“Oh.” She made herself tinier in her corner. “I’m sorry. I should’ve . . .” Squeezing her eyes shut. “I’m so sorry.”
Me and my big damn mouth. “Like I said, I know Copper Summit isn’t to blame. I used to be on meds that I couldn’t have alcohol with. Now, I can’t tamper with my balance.”
She gave me a placating smile and turned her attention to the TV, but her expression was introspective. She wasn’t seeing the show.
I reached over and snatched the remote out of her hand. After pausing the movie, I leaned over. “You’re going to stay out of that cunning brain of yours, quit second-guessing everything you do, and we’re going to enjoy the movie.”
She studied me for several long heartbeats. She sucked her lower lip between her teeth and pulled it back out. “And you said I was bossy.”
Summer
I set my bag by the door to the garage and stepped into my slippers. They were stained gray from sprinting through the parking lot.
Jonah crowded into the nook by the back door and stuffed his feet into his boots. “Is that all you have to wear?”
I straightened. I was in my fourth flirty floral dress. At least I had leggings for this one. My other dresses were dirty and all I had left clean were my bikinis and beach wraps.
I shrugged. “I’m Bali ready. It’s fine.” The trip to Mama’s house would only take twenty minutes.
“It’s cold out.”
“I came here in a wedding dress.” Admittedly, the wedding dress had more fabric, but I wasn’t putting that thing on again.
His eyes darkened. “Wait here.” He disappeared into the garage.
Several minutes ticked by. I had no phone to scroll through, only the silence I’d appreciated during my stay.
My condo in Bozeman was quiet. Sort of. My neighbors were mostly working professionals who kept to themselves, but it wasn’t like living in the country.
Sounds of traffic and people talking invaded the space.
There were no sounds of nature unless a storm rolled through.
When Jonah returned, he had a pile of winter clothing in his hands. He handed me a pair of blue ski pants. “Everything’s cold. I don’t keep the garage heated. A waste of money when I have the shop to work in.”
I eyed the pants. “I could wear these as overalls.”
He grunted and hung a black winter coat up on the wall next to me. “Try them on.” Underneath the clothing was a pair of mud boots. “These were for turkey season.”
I would swim in it all, but the gust of cold air that had come in from just the garage was enough to spur me into action. “You must have a lot of extra winter clothing.” I had my fun winter wear and my winter work gear. I didn’t throw away old coats. They were rotated into the ranch clothing.
“These were for my . . . old hobbies.”
Old hobbies. He had let it all go. He spoke like he had to, yet he’d been outside doing manual labor half the time I’d been here. Building furniture wasn’t an office job. Why’d he given everything else up?
The snow pants swamped me, but I tugged them all the way to my chest and cinched them. He handed me the coat. My fingers were lost inside the sleeves, but he zipped the front for me.
“Guess I won’t need gloves,” I said, holding a droopy sleeve up.
“And it has a hood. Now try the boots.”
I stepped out of my sandals and into the boots. They were cool, like the rest of the gear. Lifting a foot, I giggled. I had to keep my toes tense to take a step without walking right out of them.
His lips quirked and he grabbed my suitcase and the garbage bag I’d bundled my wedding dress in. “They’ll do. You have something if we get stranded.”
Grateful he was thinking about winter survival while I was low-key wishing I could stay for longer, I went into the garage.
I walked like I was one of Autumn’s students making a path through two feet of snow on the playground. My boots dragged on the floor and I snickered, then waddled like a penguin.
He came around from behind me and opened the door. The corner of his mouth lifted when I shuffled the rest of the way. “You gonna balance an egg on your feet?”
My laughter grew. So fucking silly, but Jonah had gone with it. Boyd would’ve had a comment that made me feel uncouth and embarrassed.