Chapter 17 #2
WHEN I WAKE UP the next morning, I take one quick glance at the apartment listing Sybil texted to me—the place is gorgeous—then shut off my phone, pull on my running clothes, and jog downstairs, straight out the back doors into the fresh air.
I can’t believe I’ve been home five days now already and am totally off my routine.
I’m starting to feel sluggish—and agitated.
The tension between me and Cara just keeps ratcheting up, with no end in sight.
The wedding seems to have an internal engine of its own, sucking the oxygen out of every interaction, and my chances of escaping this reality are dwindling to none.
As I make my way around the farthest part of our property—toward the rope swing—I’m careful to avoid the wild strawberry patches that cluster along this part of the shore.
Once I pass them, I pick up my pace, feeling my heart rate slam in my chest. Determined to put all these obsessive thoughts about family, weddings, and the house out of my mind.
It’s another gorgeous morning—birds flitting in and out of the branches of the willow trees that line the shores of the lake, the water sparkling in the sunlight. What I could really use is a swim, though I doubt there’ll be enough time before we have to go dress shopping.
Annnnnd there we have it once again, folks: All roads lead back to this stupid wedding.
When I get back to the house an hour later, drenched in sweat with hair plastered to my face, Nate is sitting at the kitchen table, polishing off a stack of pancakes.
Of course.
Because for some reason he has a sixth sense for catching me when I’m at my dankest.
“You look hot,” he says, as if reading my mind.
“Well, it’s going to be a scorcher,” I say, fanning my face, which is definitely flushed, like it always is after a run.
“Not what I meant.”
If my face wasn’t bright red before, it is now.
A furious blush rushes to my cheeks as I cross to the fridge to grab a bottle of water.
“I, I—” I stutter, feeling the heat in my face increase even more.
Oh lord. Just then, Cooper and Cara walk into the room, and I physically leap away from Nate.
“Coop, is the yellow bathroom free? I have to shower,” I blurt out.
Then I take the back stairs two at a time.
I’M FEELING MUCH MORE myself after I’ve showered off and refreshed with a cute floral sundress—which is conveniently also effortlessly sexy in the way it shows off my toned legs. Not that I’m hoping Nate will notice…
Since he needs to hit the hardware store for more nails anyway, Nate has offered to chauffeur us into town.
“Given how much champagne you ladies are likely going to down at that dress shop, I’d say piling into the pickup is our safest bet,” he says.
His eyes linger on mine a second longer than they need to.
“Safety first,” I say, and watch Nate’s face break into a grin.
It’s probably pathetic, how excited I am for these little moments of being together with Nate, knowing that our “friendship” is sizzling with all this unspoken tension, and keeping it a secret from everyone else.
But that fluttery feeling quickly vanishes when I realize how small the back of the truck is. Mom will obviously get the front seat with Nate, which means Linney, Cara, and I will all have to squish into the back. And there’s no way I’m sitting smushed up next to Cara.
“Here, you first,” Cara says when Nate opens up the door behind his seat.
I stare in at the bench. “Oh no, you first,” I say.
Cara shrugs and slides in, and I gesture for Linney to climb in next.
“Seriously?” she says.
“What?”
Linney rolls her eyes. “Are you twelve?” she hisses. “Just sit in the middle.”
“Girls?” Mom calls from the front seat. “What’s the holdup?”
“Linney,” I beg.
She starts shoving me into the car. “Oldest sibling privileges. In you go.”
“Okay, okay. Fine,” I grumble, taking my seat in the fricking middle. And is it my imagination or is Cara smirking as she turns to gaze out the window?
I huff and lean forward, since my shoulders barely fit between the other women’s anyway.
The whole drive, Nate keeps sneaking glances at me in the rearview mirror.
Every time our eyes catch, I feel color rising in my cheeks at the memories of his hands and mouth against my skin.
And mine against his. It’s been five days since we kissed in the lake under the fireworks—and in various locations on our way back up from the lake—but I can still feel the memories as sharply as if they’d just happened this morning.
The girls’ advice from last night echoes in my mind.
Maybe I should lean into this welcome distraction…
Right now, he’s in a ratty T-shirt and paint-stained jeans—work clothes.
He’s been making good progress on the gazebo repairs, just like he promised.
He smells like a combination of sunlight and freshly sawn wood, and I can’t get enough of it.
I squirm against my seatbelt, and Linney shoots me an annoyed look as I bump into her.
We pull onto the main drag, and Nate slows to a stop in front of LuAnne’s. Everyone else piles out of the car, but I stay in my seat. “I’ll show Nate where to park and meet y’all inside!”
Linney shoots me a meaningful look as she exits the truck, but I just widen my eyes with as much innocence as possible.
I direct Nate the two right turns toward the nearly empty public parking lot.
“I appreciate the expert direction,” Nate says, once again opening the door for me. “Not sure I could’ve made it without your help.”
“Lake Thomas is a bustling metropolis,” I say, accepting his hand as I hop down out of the truck. “I wouldn’t want a small-town boy like yourself getting lost and overwhelmed.”
For a second, he doesn’t let go of my hand, and I don’t mind. We’re standing so close; I breathe in the now familiar scent of him, and I’m tempted to pull him even closer.
Instead, he lets go. “Have fun in there.” He nods toward the shop. “But not too much fun without me.”
“Trust me, I don’t know what you’re picturing, but this is not going to be any fun.”
“I’m picturing you in your underwear while drinking champagne.”
I blush, then laugh. “Are you picturing the rest of my family in their underwear too?”
He barks out a laugh. “Okay, no.”
“Last time I was at LuAnne’s, I’m not kidding, I ended up with sequin chaffing in places you really don’t want to know about.”
“Or do I?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow.
I swat his shoulder. “Enough. I better go in, or who knows what they’ll think.”
“Yeah, who knows what people would think.” He pauses, runs a hand through his hair, still looking at me, squinting a little in the bright sun. “Alright, I’ll be back to pick y’all up in a couple hours. Unless, of course, you need me to come rescue you from a sequin emergency sooner.”
“You’d be my knight in sequined armor?”
He laughs. “Anything for you.” And I wonder what he means by that; if it’s just his easygoing, laid-back charm, or if it’s something else.
I want him to rescue me now. I want to hop back into the truck with him, drive off into the sunset, and pretend this wedding isn’t happening.
But that’s not on offer.
So instead, I wave goodbye and jog over to the shop.
Before I pull open the door, I glance back over my shoulder.
Nate’s walking in the opposite direction, toward the hardware store.
But as if feeling my gaze on him, he turns.
He gives me a smile and a little salute, then turns, and I watch him walk away.