Chapter 8 What Comes Next
WHAT COMES NEXT
JACK
She wasn't mad.
I'd braced for it, the shift in her expression when she'd unfolded that property survey, the way her shoulders had tensed. Instead, she'd just looked at me and said she understood.
I didn't know what to do with that.
We were still sitting on the couch, her hand in mine, and I was acutely aware that this moment could tip either direction. Toward something real or toward the kind of polite distance people put between themselves when they realized things were more complicated than they'd signed up for.
"Can I ask you something else?" she said.
"You're going to anyway."
She smiled slightly. "Fair. How many other properties do you own?"
"A few."
"Define 'a few.'"
"Does it matter?"
"No. I'm just curious." She tilted her head. "You said you bought this place to preserve it. Did you do that with the others?"
"Most of them."
"So you're not just rich. You're the guy who buys things to keep them from being ruined."
I pulled my hand back, not to create distance, just to think. She let me.
"I made money fast," I said. I leaned back against the couch. "When you build something that scales like that, the money becomes… noise. People want meetings, partnerships, advisory positions. Everyone has an idea they need funded or a crisis they need solved."
"And you didn't want to solve them."
"I didn't want to be the guy everyone turned to when they needed something." I met her eyes. "So I started buying land. Places that mattered. And then I disappeared into them."
She was quiet, considering. "That's why you chop wood."
"It's why I do a lot of things. Physical work keeps me grounded. Keeps me from thinking too much about what I walked away from."
"Do you regret it? Walking away?"
"No."
The radio crackled from the kitchen counter, and I stood to grab it.
Pat's voice came through, clear and slightly amused. "Jack, you still breathing over there?"
I keyed the mic. "Still breathing. What's the update?"
"Road's clear. Crew just finished. You're good to go whenever."
"Copy that. Thanks, Pat."
"Your guest doing okay?"
I glanced at Elaine, who was watching me with an expression I couldn't quite read. "She's fine."
"Good. Tell her we'll see her around town."
"Will do."
The line went quiet.
I set the radio down and turned back to Elaine. She was standing now, arms crossed loosely over her chest, not defensive, just thinking.
"So," she said. "I can leave."
"You can."
"Do you want me to?"
The question hit harder than it should have. Not because I didn't know the answer, but because saying it out loud felt like stepping off stable ground.
"No," I said.
She relaxed slightly. "Good. Because I'm not ready to yet."
"What are you ready for?"
"I don't know." She moved closer, stopping just in front of me. "But I know I don't want this to be the kind of thing where we wave goodbye and then avoid each other on the property.”
"I don't want that either."
"So what do we do?"
I reached for her, slow enough that she could step back if she wanted, and pulled her in when she didn't. She fit against me like she'd been designed for it, head tucked under my chin, arms wrapping around my waist.
"We figure it out," I said into her hair.
"That's not a plan."
"It's a direction."
"You really don't like planning, do you?"
“I know what I want. The rest is logistics.”
She pulled back enough to look up at me. "And what do you want?"
"You. Here. Again." I paused. "Often."
Her mouth curved. "Often."
"If you're interested."
"I might be." Her fingers found the hem of my shirt, toying with it. "But I need to know something first."
"What?"
"Are you going to disappear on me?"
The question was light, but I heard the weight underneath it.
"No."
"You're sure?"
"I've been disappearing for three years." I tightened my hold on her. "But I don't want to disappear from you."
She studied my face for a long moment, then nodded. "Okay."
"That's it? Just 'okay'?"
"What do you want me to say?"
"I don't know. Maybe ask me more questions. Make me prove it."
"I don't need you to prove it." She reached up, fingers brushing my jaw. "I just need you to mean it."
"I do."
"Then we're good."
She kissed me, soft and certain, and I felt something ease in my chest that I hadn't realized was tight.
When she pulled back, her expression had shifted. Still soft, but with an edge of mischief I was starting to recognize.
"What?" I asked.
"I just realized something."
"What?"
"You're my boss."
I groaned. "Technically..."
"No, I know. Management company, layers of bureaucracy, all that. But still." She grinned. "This is wildly inappropriate."
"You want to stop?"
"Absolutely not."
"Then it's fine."
"Is it though?"
"Elaine."
"Yes?"
"Stop overthinking."
"You're one to talk."
"I know. That's why I'm telling you to stop."
She laughed, and the sound filled the cabin in a way that made me realize how quiet it had been before she arrived.
How quiet I'd been.
"I should probably get back," she said, though she didn't move. "Check in with the management company. Make sure nothing exploded while I was... indisposed."
"You could stay a little longer."
"I could."
"But you won't."
"I have responsibilities." She stepped back, and I let her go even though I didn't want to. "Besides, if I stay much longer, I'm going to forget why leaving is a good idea."
"Is it a good idea?"
"Probably. I need clean clothes. A shower that isn't yours. My phone charger."
"Practical reasons."
"I'm a practical person."
"I've noticed."
She moved toward the bathroom to grab her dried clothes, still slightly stiff but wearable, and I watched her go, already calculating when I'd see her again.
Tomorrow. I could make a delivery tomorrow.
Or I could just... show up. At the lodge. Like a normal person.
The thought made me uncomfortable. But not as uncomfortable as the alternative.
When she came back out, dressed in her own clothes again, she looked more like the woman I'd pulled from the river and less like the one who'd been wearing my shirt.
I didn't like it.
"Walk you back?" I offered.
"You don't have to."
"I want to."
"Okay."
We took the ATV, slower this time, no emergency driving, and I tried not to think about how different this ride felt from yesterday. How aware I was of her arms around my waist, her breath warm against my shoulder blade.
How much I wanted to turn around and go back.
The resort lodge came into view, and I pulled up near the staff entrance.
Elaine climbed off, and I killed the engine.
"Thanks," she said. "For everything."
"You keep thanking me."
"Because you keep doing things worth thanking you for."
I stood, closing the distance between us. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"You will?"
"I have a delivery scheduled."
She smiled, and I caught the edge of something playful in it. "Well, I'll make sure to be around."
"Good."
She turned to go, then stopped. Looked back.
"I'm glad the trail was blocked yesterday."
"Me too."
She nodded once, then disappeared through the door.
I stood there longer than I should have, staring at the space where she'd been, before finally climbing back onto the ATV and heading home.
The cabin felt emptier when I got back.
I didn't like that either.
Because for the first time in three years, empty didn't feel permanent.
It just felt like waiting.