Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Jonah
Summer was tucked into my side in my bed. I stroked circles on her shoulder. I was drowsy in my post-orgasmic state, but I missed these moments of cuddling whenever she went back to her life in Bozeman, maybe even more than the sex.
She shifted against me and turned to face the ceiling. Usually, she cuddled into me and drifted off to sleep first. I’d succumb to sleep after listening to her even breathing and marveling that she wasn’t a dream. Tonight, she was restless.
“What’s on your mind?”
“Nothing,” she said quickly.
“Summer.”
A sigh left her. She rolled into my side and put her head on my chest. “Thank you for coming to eat with Mama tonight.”
“Anytime.” Oddly enough, I meant it.
“But something was bothering you.”
Yeah. It was bothering me. Sure, I hated the reminder that my going off the grid had affected the Baileys.
Mae might’ve thought she was joking about saving money with the hunting efforts of me and her boys, but she wasn’t wrong.
When she had a minimum of seven kids to feed, besides herself and Darin and additional foster kids coming in and out, the meat we’d hunted had been important to filling her freezer.
They’d been able to take an extra head or two of cattle to the market, which translated to thousands of dollars.
Then I’d dropped off. Could I have figured out how to hunt as effectively? To contribute like I had before?
I didn’t know, and everyone had moved on. The Baileys weren’t hurting for money, but Teller had said once that the family fortune was tied up in the land and the distillery. Feeding all those mouths had been a challenge.
Summer was quiet, waiting for my response. I thought of how to tell her without saying I felt like a loser.
“It’s different. I’m different. She’s different.” Teller probably was too, but I hadn’t talked to him in a long time. He’d rightfully given up on me.
“We would’ve been anyway, accident or not. No one’s the same at forty and at twenty-five.”
“Thirty-nine,” I said, grasping for the distraction.
She giggled and patted my chest. “What should we plan for next weekend?”
“You’ve been here two weekends in a row. I can go to Bozeman.”
“Oh. Okay.” There was still something in her voice I couldn’t identify. A hint of nervousness? Of disappointment? How was I letting her down while making plans to see her?
“What if we went out tomorrow?”
My chest constricted. “What do you mean?”
“I miss Curly’s buns.”
“I hope you’re talking about food and not that crusty man’s ass.”
“He is crusty, but we all agree his buns are the best in the state.”
“I haven’t had many other buns in the state. Maybe we need some road trips to verify the claim.” I wouldn’t ask her to fly anywhere, ever.
“Or we can just go have Curly’s.” Her words were quiet enough that this must be what she’d been worried about bringing up.
She wanted to go out. I wanted to go out, but not in Bourbon Canyon.
“I told Mom and Dad about us.”
She propped her elbow on the mattress. The night-light in the hallway outlined her features. “You did? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It was anticlimactic, and I didn’t tell them about you and Eli.”
She settled back into my side. “Do you think they should know?”
I thought for a moment. I had been resistant to tell them. I wanted to protect them. But in the end, that wasn’t why I’d kept my mouth shut. “It’s not my story to tell.”
“Right.” Another long exhale gusted over my chest.
The thought of confessing to my parents bothered her. Which meant she thought they should know. She thought they should have all the information, but she didn’t want to hurt them either. She didn’t want them to react like I had.
But she did want to go to Curly’s. My gut churned at the thought. “It might not be the quiet dinner we usually get.”
“I’m not a stranger to the stares, Jonah. I’m one of the Bailey girls who was in the car when their parents died. People called us the Bailey girls so much, only our teachers knew we had different last names.”
“I’m sorry for what you went through, but it was a long time ago.”
“Eight years.”
“What?”
“My parents’ accident was eight years before yours and Eli’s.”
Shit.
She shifted to her belly again, up on her elbows. “Eight years for the talk to die down, only to have Eli make a reckless decision that got him killed and almost killed you. Then I was the poor Bailey girl who’d lost her fiancé. You would’ve sworn I was halfway down the aisle when he crashed.”
I winced at her blunt statement.
“And then,” she continued, “there was my actual nonwedding. Might not have been the biggest news otherwise, but it made all the old shit resurface. You don’t think when I bought your groceries that I got stared at?
That when I went to the clinic for STD testing that the nurses gave me pitying looks?
I let them think my ex-fiancé was a cheating asshole because it’s easier than admitting I stayed with the wrong guy for far too long. ”
I couldn’t wince again, but her direct hit went through my chest wall.
She was bunching Eli into that group, but her exes weren’t the point she was making.
She’d been talked about and stared at her whole life and she hadn’t become the recluse of Bourbon Canyon.
She’d retreated to the mountains to heal like I had, but then she’d gone back to her life.
I had yet to fully emerge.
The thought of letting Summer down closed off my airway. I could go to a goddamn restaurant, have some buns, and give zero fucks about the gossip.
“Tomorrow, sunshine. I’ll take you out.”
Summer
The parking lot at Curly’s was full. Normal for a Saturday night. I shouldn’t have pressured Jonah. I could see now that my request was linked to my need to determine where we were.
Jonah made me feel special, but when we only went out in Bozeman and no one in our hometown, where he still lived, knew about us, my brain wanted to tell me that what we had didn’t go much further than sex.
He wasn’t any of my exes who didn’t really care to get to know me or what I wanted. He asked about my work, and he was interested in my family. I liked getting introduced to his woodworking passion, but we still lived very separate lives.
I could no longer use the excuse that everything was new. We’d known each other most of our lives, and we’d been sleeping together for six weeks. It was time to date. To move us forward.
Yet my guilt wasn’t listening. I’d pushed him and he wasn’t comfortable. I didn’t want to be the cause of his stress.
“If you’re really not ready for this, we can wait.”
“No. You want to eat at Curly’s; there’s no reason we can’t eat at Curly’s.
” His shoulders were tight. He pulled into a parking spot at the edge of the lot.
His cane was in the back, but I already knew he wasn’t going to use it.
Not for his first outing with me when there was no more ice in the parking lot.
He got out, his body as graceful as a wooden plank, stiff and unidirectional.
I rounded the back of the pickup and met him by the driver’s corner of the tailgate.
“You look good,” I said, curling my fingers through his.
I wasn’t just pumping him up. He was dressed similarly to the first time we’d gone out in Bozeman.
The nights could still get cool, so he was wearing the same green Henley and a nice pair of jeans with his cowboy boots.
His hair was combed off his forehead and to the side, with an off-center part that was surprisingly trendy for a guy who didn’t give a shit about fashion.
“You’re sexy as hell,” he growled. “But you always are.”
I might’ve worn one of the honeymoon dresses I’d gotten for Bali. I had to pair this one with a lilac cardigan, and I wore ankle boots instead of sandals, but I’d caught Jonah eying my legs several times, even with as tense as he was.
A man and woman younger than us exited the restaurant, laughing and talking. I didn’t recognize them, but they glanced at us and went back to chatting with each other.
Jonah relaxed only slightly.
I rubbed his forearm, and we continued to the entrance. He opened the door for me, giving me a hot, but tight once-over, his gaze dipping down to my legs like he needed to fortify himself before going in.
The hostess smiled brightly at us. She had to still be in high school.
If Curly were seating us, he might put me and Jonah up front. The mountain man had chosen Curly’s establishment for one of his only eating-out experiences. But this hostess likely didn’t know what the Baileys looked like and didn’t care.
“Two tonight?”
“Yes,” Jonah said so gruffly I was afraid he’d startle her. She didn’t miss a beat. The restaurant was loud this time of night.
She led us past the muffin display—and where I’d had the run-in with Jackie. It’d been months. I had to get over this jealousy.
At the same time, I commiserated with her. Had I felt what she’d felt when Jonah wouldn’t commit? That had been before the accident. Had they both just been too young, or would he have never committed?
I stuffed my questions away. Tonight wasn’t the night. This was about getting Jonah used to being in public in Bourbon Canyon.
And a little bit about announcing us as a pair.
Okay, a lot.
His fingers clutched mine as we followed the hostess. We passed a retired math teacher from high school. She smiled at me, but when her gaze landed on Jonah, she gawked.
There was no going back.
A few booths later, I spotted Jason. His grin was broad. “Summer Kerrigan, how are y—” His eyes went wide. “Jonah?”
Jonah nodded, his fingers cinching around mine tighter until I couldn’t feel my fingertips. “Jason.”
“N-nice to see you out.” Jason’s wife and his oldest daughter stared at us. And our linked hands. “To see you both.”
I smiled as we passed. “Have a good night.”
Was I imagining it, or had the noise level in the place diminished? There were still people talking. Those who didn’t know Jonah or me, who didn’t know his past, and especially those who didn’t know how Jonah and I had been connected through his brother.
Those who did? Wide-eyed gaping. Hushed murmurs and whispers. The prickle of their attention danced down my back, and I suppressed a shiver. How was it going for Jonah?
Finally, we reached a table toward the back. Only a lap through the main dining area would have taken us past more people.
Jonah pulled out a chair that would have my back toward the crowd.
“You can sit here,” I said only loud enough for him to hear.
“No chance you’re going to be their dinner show.”
I placed a kiss on his lips. “Thank you.”
His mouth quirked. “That was some fuel you added there.”
I chuckled and caught the hostess’s confused blink. “Busy place,” I said to keep her from standing awkwardly even longer.
Her nod was full of knowing authority. “Saturdays are always like this. What can I get you to drink?”
“Water,” Jonah and I said at the same time.
When she left, his chest rose with a deep inhale. “This actually isn’t so bad.”
“Once she returns with the buns, it’s only going to get better.”
“It can’t be better since I’m out with you.”
I melted inside. Completely. These were the times he made me feel so damn special. And tonight, we were out where everyone could see. Anyone who wanted to gossip would know by noon tomorrow, after the church crowd had had time to talk, that Jonah and I had been out together. That I’d kissed him.
They’d know Jonah was a real man, with a real life, and he was mine. I hoped he always would be.
Jonah
We had just finished our food when Rhys Kinkade stopped at the table.
He was as tall as me and his dark hair was flattened like he’d worn some sort of hat all day until he’d decided cooking dinner was too much.
He had two girls in tow and they both blinked at me until Summer smiled and waved at them.
“Hey, Summer,” Rhys said and turned his attention to me. “Hi, Jonah. I don’t know if you know who I am—”
“I’ve been a hermit, but I haven’t forgotten everything,” I said congenially.
He chuckled. “Good to know. I just wanted to make sure everything’s okay on your end with the purchase of your parents’ property.”
He was making sure his new neighbor wouldn’t be a disgruntled recluse who held a grudge and terrorized him or his kids in his new house. I could’ve bristled, but he had the balls to ask me, and he was doing it thoughtfully and respectfully.
“I have no worries. Mom and Dad have made up their mind and there’s nothing from their place I want that I haven’t already been given.”
“Good.” He relaxed and his smile was less strained. “That’s good. But you know, if you think of anything, just give me a call. I can give you my number. Your parents have been excellent about the whole deal, but just in case.”
I dug out my phone. If Summer’s kiss didn’t shock the hell out of anyone paying attention, then trading numbers like I was a normal guy with friends would do the trick. I programmed his number in.
To keep a weird silence from descending, I grasped for a conversational topic. I wanted to make every part of this night good for my sexy date. “Mom’s looking forward to having the house full of kids.”
Rhys smiled again. He was the type of adult I should’ve turned into. A family guy who wanted to expand and grow with his kids. “That’s what she told me. ‘Who would’ve thought? Pink?’ ”
That was pretty close to the exact words she’d said to me. “She’s not getting the kids or the pink from me, so I’m glad you and your girls can help her out.”
The youngest girl with the ringlets in her ponytail tugged on his hand. “Daddy. I have to pee.” She did a little dance in place.
Rhys must’ve recognized the urgency. He grimaced. “Yes, sorry.” To us, he said, “Thought I could spare a couple minutes, but I pushed it. Nice to talk to you.” He nodded at each of us and rushed off with his kids.
I took a pull of my water. The stress that had ridden my shoulders since Summer had asked to go out last night was gone.
Tonight had been pleasant. Summer made all the difference, but it wasn’t just that.
I wanted to be out. I wanted to get to know people like Rhys.
I wanted to see what he did with my childhood home.
I wanted to hear how enthused Mom was about little girls filling the place.
When I met Summer’s gaze, there was a line in her forehead. Her ripe lips were turned down as she considered me.
“Everything okay?”
She didn’t immediately answer, but she shook herself. “Yeah, no, I’m fine.”
I liked to think I knew her well enough to call bullshit. She wasn’t fine. Something about the exchange had bothered her and she wasn’t saying. I’d have to wait until we left.
I was riding high on nothing but steak and water—and excellent buns. I was out with my woman, and for now, all was right in the world. Finally. I wasn’t going to go searching for problems.
I’d been so worried, but everything about tonight was surprising me in the best way. I couldn’t wait to end it with her in my arms.