Chapter Fourteen #5
“I’m sorry, Esme. I—” He breaks into another round of laughter that lasts minutes as I stare incredulously. Finally, he gets out, “I’m sorry. I haven’t laughed like that in a while.”
My frustration diffuses. Of course he hasn’t. He’s been depressed over a woman who doesn’t truly exist.
Noah breathes deeply and smiles softly, his eyes sparking. “May I put my hands on your face so that I can make sure you hear every word of what I’m about to say?”
Confused, I nod.
He stands, straddles the bench, and sits, his knees knocking into mine.
Warmth from his large hands settles on either side of my face as he stares into my soul.
“Esme Lorraine Jenkins,” he breathes my name, his breath smelling like mint toothpaste.
“I know just the sort of woman you are. You freaked out when I asked you to continue dating me when we returned home. You were going on about how I didn’t really know you and that I might not like you when we were off the island.
I’ll tell you now what I told you back then.
” He clears his throat. “You think I couldn’t tell that you are timid and anxious and settled?
You hardly made a decision that week because you went along with whatever I suggested, huffing and puffing through climbing a mountain with me and everything.
I picked up on the cues that told me when you didn’t really want to do something.
I identified your plastic smile and what set it apart from the genuine one.
I saw your planner. I noticed the way you got nervous in large crowds and preferred quieter environments.
And most importantly, you opened up to me about your past with Lane and Bryan.
You told me how they said your romantic expectations were too high and that no man could ever meet them. ”
My hands fly to cover my opened mouth. Noah removes one of his hands to gently move mine away from my face.
He doesn’t let go of it as he continues.
“And then I told you that they were emotionally unintelligent boys who didn’t know what to do with a woman like you.
A brave, intelligent, beautiful, meek, and kind woman. ”
Tears run down my cheeks, and Noah gently wipes one away with the pad of his thumb.
I’m at a loss for words, so he fills the silence.
“And also like I told you that day… I know I have so much more to learn about you, so please, take me to school, Miss Jenkins, because I want to learn. I want to do it every day by your side. I want to learn your soul.” I’m a statue as Noah gently places his hand over my heart.
I should swat it away, but I can’t. I won’t.
“Your heart.” He moves his hand to stroke my oily, airplane hair. “Your mind.”
I know what comes next. I wrote this scene. Real.
Noah asks permission with his eyes when they drop down to my lips and back up to me. I should say no.
When I drafted Forgetting My Vacation Fling , I never imagined he was real. I wrote about instant love because I believe it exists and is beautiful, but I never imagined it was something that could happen to me because of my personality.
But it did. And as my title suggests, I forgot about it.
A little string in my soul tugs as if it’s telling me he’s the one. He’s it. He’s the one who I’ve searched for. Waited for. Longed for. My missing person. My missing memories.
I close my eyes and lean toward him involuntarily.
Does he kiss like I imagined?
His lips press featherlight to mine. A breath, and then he pulls away, a small reverent smile lifting his full cheekbones. “And eventually, one day when I finally coerce you into marrying me, every inch of your body.”
“Real,” I murmur out loud, swiping my thumb across my bottom lip where it still feels the imprint of his soft mouth against mine. I should feel off-kilter for a thousand other reasons than the one currently taking precedent.
Noah makes a humming sound. “Very real.”
At that moment, Nick calls for us, saying his moose lasagna is ready. I’m shaken out of my stupor and jolt back from Noah.
What am I thinking? I just met this guy!
You’ve known me for a while, my little author, fictional Noah states.
Real Noah flinches at my sudden movement, but to his credit, he doesn’t show his disappointment or sadness.
“Noah, I—”
He holds up his hand. “You don’t have to say anything, Esme. Let’s just focus on being in Alaska right now, and we can figure things out later.”
I swallow the anxiety in my throat and nod.
We stand, and Noah takes my hand. “You don’t have to date me right now, Esme.
Or ever, for that matter.” He says the last phrase with a tinge of sourness in his tone.
“But, if you’re willing, I’d like for you to give me a chance.
Don’t answer me now. Think about it. We can make decisions back home. ”
Home. The word feels so close yet so far away.
“Thank you, Noah. I know this isn’t easy for you, but I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you are willing to put yourself through—” I search for what I’m looking for, but I let it fall because I don’t actually know what I want to say.
I squeeze his hand before dropping it. “Anyway, thank you.”
“I’m just glad God saw fit to bring you back into my life, even if it’s just in this small manner. Him and I went rounds over you.” Pain flashes through his eyes, and I know he’s trying hard to believe that.
Nick hollers again, and we start making our way to the cabin.
I scrunch my nose. “Lasagna is my favorite dish, but I don’t know about this moose business.”
“When in Crescent Cove, Alaska…”