Chapter 7 #2
"No problem." He glances down the hall toward where Abby's voice is still audible, then lowers his voice. "Look, I know it's none of my business, but... is there something going on between you and Zennika? Abby's been speculating since she heard you two were road-tripping together."
The direct question takes me aback. My instinct is to deflect, to maintain the privacy I've guarded for years. But thinking of the conversation Zennika and I had in the truck, about being honest about our situation, I opt for a version of the truth.
"It's complicated," I admit. "We're figuring it out as we go."
Brick nods, accepting this without pushing for details. "Fair enough. Just a friendly heads-up, Abby's going to be a lot less subtle with her questions."
"I figured as much." I smile ruefully. "Subtle was never her strong suit."
"You have no idea." He claps me on the shoulder. "See you at dinner. The bar opens at six-thirty, and I recommend arriving early."
"Noted. Thanks."
Once he's gone, I unlock my door and step into the Dogwood Room. It's pleasantly appointed, with a queen-sized bed, antique dresser, and a sitting area by the window that overlooks the garden. A door on one wall presumably leads to the shared bathroom.
I set my bag on the luggage rack and sit on the edge of the bed, suddenly at loose ends. After days of driving, of having a clear purpose and destination, the abrupt stop feels jarring. Now what?
A soft knock sounds on the bathroom door before it opens, revealing Zennika. She's changed out of her travel clothes into a sundress that shows off tanned shoulders and slim legs.
"Hey," she says, leaning against the doorframe. "Abby finally released me to freshen up before the bridal luncheon."
"You look nice." It's an understatement. She looks radiant, especially with the smile that lights her face.
"Thanks." She glances over her shoulder before stepping fully into my room, closing the bathroom door behind her. "I wanted to check in before I get swept into wedding madness for the day."
"I appreciate that." I reach for her hand, drawing her toward me until she stands between my knees. "I’m already missing your company."
She laughs, playing with my hair. "It's been all of ten minutes."
"Ten minutes too long." I echo our joke from the gas station, enjoying the way her eyes soften at the callback.
"I should be done with bridal stuff by five or so," she says, leaning down to press a kiss to my forehead. "Thought maybe we could get ready for the welcome dinner together?"
"I'd like that." I pull her closer, until she's practically in my lap. "Though getting ready together usually leads to getting undressed together in my experience."
"Is that a complaint?" She raises an eyebrow, arms looping around my neck.
"An observation." I trace patterns on her bare thigh where the sundress has ridden up. "A hopeful one."
She laughs, the sound warming my chest. "I've created a monster."
"You've unleashed one that was always there," I correct, pressing a kiss to the soft skin below her ear. "Years of restraint, gone in a single road trip."
"Good." She tilts her head, giving me better access to her neck. "I like unrestrained Jude."
"Careful what you wish for, Zen." I nip at her pulse point, feeling it jump beneath my lips.
Another knock, this one on the hallway door, interrupts us. "Zen?" Abby's voice calls. "Are you in there? We're going to be late for the luncheon!"
Zennika sighs, pulling back reluctantly. "Coming!" she calls, then lowers her voice. "To be continued?"
"Count on it." I steal one more kiss before releasing her. "Have fun with the bridal party."
"Try not to pine too much while I'm gone." She straightens her dress, checking her reflection in the mirror on the wall. "Maybe explore the town? Brick mentioned there's a decent coffee shop on Main Street."
"Maybe I will." I hadn't considered how I'd fill the time without her, but coffee and a walk sound like a good start. "Text me when you're free?"
"Will do." She blows me a kiss before disappearing through the bathroom door, closing it softly behind her.
Seconds later, I hear her room door open and Abby's excited chatter as they head for the stairs. Then silence, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
It's strange how quickly I've grown accustomed to Zennika's presence, easy conversations, and comfortable silences. After years of carefully maintained distance from everyone except Jason and a few close friends, the sudden intimacy of the past few days should feel overwhelming.
Instead, it feels right, like a missing piece sliding into place. And that's what scares me most. Because despite the brave face I put on during our conversation this morning, I know the logistics of continuing this beyond the wedding are daunting at best.
But for the first time in years, I'm willing to take that risk. For her. For us. For whatever this is becoming.
With a sigh, I push myself off the bed and grab my wallet and phone. Might as well explore Cusp Hollow while I wait. Maybe the walk will clear my head.
The town is busier than it appeared from the truck, with locals and tourists mingling on the sidewalks and in the small shops that line Main Street. I find the coffee shop Brick mentioned, a homey place called Java Junction, and order an Americano before continuing my exploration.
Cusp Hollow has the usual small-town amenities: a pharmacy, a hardware store, a diner, a few boutiques catering to tourists. What catches my attention, though, is a real estate office with listings displayed in the window.
I stop, coffee halfway to my lips, as I scan the properties.
Land is cheap here—much cheaper than Washington.
A hundred acres with water rights for less than I'd pay for twenty in the Pacific Northwest. Houses at a fraction of Seattle prices.
I wonder if this is how the prices are over in Serenity County too?
An idea begins to form, so outlandish I almost dismiss it immediately. But it lingers, taking shape despite my attempts to focus on more practical matters.
What if...
No. It's absurd. I have a life in Washington. The ranch I've built from nothing, the reputation I've established, the horses that depend on me. I can't just uproot everything on a whim, for a relationship that's barely a week old.
Can I?
I turn away from the window, resuming my walk with more purpose now, the idea still nagging at the edges of my mind.
The practical part of me lists all the reasons it won't work: the logistics of moving a horse breeding operation across the country, the risk of starting over in a new market, the uncertainty of whether what Zennika and I have will last beyond this trip, all weighs on my mind.
But another part of me, the part that took a chance on a rundown property and turned it into one of the premier breeding facilities in the Northwest, sees possibility. Opportunity. A way forward that doesn't require either of us to sacrifice everything.
By the time I make it back to the inn, my coffee long finished, I've talked myself into and out of the idea a dozen times. It's premature, I know that. We need to see how these next few days go, whether what works on the road translates to real life surrounded by friends and family.
But the fact that I'm even considering such a drastic change tells me everything I need to know about how deeply Zennika has affected me in such a short time.
I'm still turning possibilities over in my mind when my phone buzzes with a text from Jason.
Jason: Made it to Georgia yet? How's my sister behaving?
I hesitate, thumbs hovering over the screen. What do I tell him? That I've broken my promise to keep my distance from Zennika? That we've spent the past three nights in each other's arms? That I'm considering relocating my entire life to be near her?
None of that seems like something to share over text.
Me: Made it safely, I type instead. She's with Abby now. Bridal stuff.
His response is immediate: Jason: How's the truck holding up? That old beast made it all the way from Kansas?
Old Blue is indestructible , I reply, grateful for the shift to safer topics. When are you getting in?
Jason: Late tonight. Useless as always for the pre-wedding activities, but I'll be there for the main event tomorrow. Save me a seat at your table for the welcome dinner?
A knot forms in my stomach. Jason at the welcome dinner means facing him while this thing with Zennika is still so new, so undefined. But there's no avoiding it.
Will do, I type. See you tonight.
I tuck the phone away, feeling like I've just agreed to a confrontation I'm not prepared for. Jason is my best friend, like a brother to me. But when it comes to Zennika, his protective instincts override everything else. How will he react when he realizes what's happening between us?
The answer to that question will have to wait, though.
I have a more immediate concern: what to wear to this welcome dinner.
I dig through my duffel, glad I thought to pack at least one decent shirt and a pair of dark jeans that pass for dressy in ranch circles.
Not exactly formal wear, but it'll have to do.
I spend the rest of the afternoon catching up on ranch business via phone and email, answering questions from my foreman and checking in on how the new mare is settling in.
It's strange to think that just days ago, my biggest concern was whether Moonlight Miracle would adjust well to her new environment.
Now I'm contemplating major life changes and preparing to face my best friend after breaking a promise I made years ago.
Around four-thirty, a knock on the bathroom door pulls me from my thoughts. Zennika pokes her head in, looking slightly frazzled but happy.
"Hey," she says, stepping into my room. "I'm finally free. Bridal luncheon turned into bridal shopping excursion turned into bridal cocktail hour."
"You've been drinking?" I ask, taking in her flushed cheeks and bright eyes.
"Just one mimosa," she assures me. "Or maybe two. Abby's aunt kept refilling glasses the moment they were empty."
I laugh, rising to pull her into my arms. "Sounds like quite the afternoon."
"It was fun," she admits, relaxing against my chest. "Exhausting, but fun. How was yours?"
"Quiet. Explored the town and caught up on ranch business." I hesitate, then decide to share at least part of my thoughts. "Then, did some thinking about us. About after."
She pulls back to look at me, expression curious. "What kind of thinking?"
"The kind that might involve real estate listings and land prices."
Her eyes widen. "Jude Carson, are you saying what I think you're saying?"
"I'm saying I saw a real estate office in town and got curious." I keep my tone casual, though my heart is racing. "Georgia's got a lot to offer for someone in my line of work. Cheaper land. Good horse country. Better weather."
"And?" She's watching me carefully now, like she's afraid to read too much into my words.
"And I'm not opposed to the idea of exploring options. If things between us continue heading in the direction they seem to be."
A smile slowly spreads across her face. "That's a pretty big 'if' based on a few days together."
"I know." I brush a strand of hair from her face. "Call me crazy."
"I prefer 'optimistic.'" She rises on tiptoes to kiss me softly. "And for what it's worth, I'm not opposed to exploring options either."
The weight that's been sitting on my chest all afternoon lifts slightly. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." She kisses me again, lingering this time. "But for now, let's focus on getting through this welcome dinner without causing a scene. Jason will be there, remember?"
I groan, resting my forehead against hers. "Don't remind me."
"It'll be fine," she assures me, though I can hear the uncertainty in her voice. "He's going to have to get used to the idea of us eventually."
"Eventually," I agree. "But maybe not sprung on him in the middle of wedding festivities."
"Agreed. We'll keep things low-key tonight. But no hiding either," she adds firmly. "I'm done pretending you don't matter to me."
The simple declaration warms me from the inside out. I pull her closer, capturing her mouth in a kiss that quickly deepens, all the longing of our hours apart concentrated into one burning moment.
When we break for air, her eyes are dark with desire. "We still have an hour before we need to get ready," she murmurs, hands already working at the buttons of my shirt.
"Way ahead of you," I reply, walking her backward toward the bed. "And I always keep my promises about making things up to you."
Her laugh turns into a sigh as I find that spot on her neck that drives her wild. "Promises, promises."
And for the next hour, I make good on every single one.