Chapter 29
My brush glides across the canvas with steady intention. As if something is clicking into place, this feels like the kind of art I should be doing. My style, but also something more than that.
This is art from my soul. A deeper connection with my passion to create, to have a little bit more of me out in this world.
I’ve missed this feeling more than I realized. And even though my hands are growing stiff and my arms heavy, I can’t seem to stop. Not until the faintest sound catches my attention.
It’s subtle, too difficult to identify. And I listen so intently to the silence that follows, I start to wonder if I had simply imagined it.
“It probably is time for a break,” I mutter.
But just as I am turning my attention back to my canvas, I hear it again. Like a sharp tap or maybe a low ping.
It echoes through the night a third time, and that’s when I realize it’s the sound of something hitting the window. I set my brush down and step around my easel to examine the glass panes.
When I don’t notice any cracks or chips, I look through the pristine surface to the night beyond.
A snort-like laugh escapes me, and my hand flies up to cover my mouth.
Because there, standing on my front lawn under the gleam of moonlight, Jake is in the process of throwing another pebble in my direction.
He smiles when he sees me, and I hold up a finger for him to wait. To tell him I’m coming down.
Snatching my flannel from the corner of my easel as I go by, I hurry down the stairs—pausing long enough at the mirror in the living room to make sure I don’t have any paint on my face. I run my hands over my hair and smooth down any flyaways escaping my claw clip.
Then I throw open the front door to find Jake and Charlie on the other side.
“Hi.” I grin.
“Hi,” he says on an exhale.
I lean my hip against the doorframe. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“You consider my company a pleasurable thing?”
“I was talking about Charlie,” I tease, pointing to the dog trying to pull out of Jake’s grip. His tail is wagging his whole back end.
Jake releases him, and he doesn’t hesitate to spring up my front steps to me. “I got some good news tonight.”
Glancing up from the dog, it’s clear that his expression and words aren’t aligned. “Then why do you look like you just swallowed a grapefruit?”
He lets out a single, ragged chuckle. “Do you have time for a front porch chat?”
I look at his bare arms in that short sleeve shirt and step to the side, leaving my doorway wide open. “Why don’t you come inside instead?”
His expression relaxes, and that smile from when he first saw me returns. “Okay.”
When he steps up onto the porch, I can’t help but notice how his legs drag a little bit. This isn’t the Jake I know. He passes by me, and I have the strongest urge to stop him and pull him into a hug.
Instead, I close the door and make a mental note to vacuum off the couch where Charlie has settled, before Claire gets home from Levi’s tomorrow. “Do you want anything?” I ask.
“No, I didn’t come to have you wait on me.” He sinks onto the couch, allowing his dog to flop over his lap.
There’s something overwhelmingly comforting about this sight. The two of them settling in here. The fact that he came by without plans.
I think that I want this, with him.
“I’ve never gotten a Say Anything moment,” I say, sitting in the chair beside them. “If you came to fulfill my teenage dreams, you’ve succeeded.”
His smile reaches his eyes this time, and he leans over to rest on the sofa arm between us. “Next time I’ll remember the boombox, Gin Blossoms and all.”
“I think that’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.”
Jake moves toward me, his fingers brushing back the rogue strand of hair that’s fallen from my clip. “That is, if you still want to see me after hearing my news.” His voice is raspy, as if the words are strangling him.
“That good news you mentioned?” I ask.
“It should be good to me…”
My shoulders tighten. “Did you get the property?”
“Not yet. But we did get through one of the biggest barriers today.”
I pick my feet up to perch on the edge of my seat, bringing my knees in toward my chest. “This is what you want, right?”
“This isn’t what I want.” He motions to the way my body’s withdrawn into itself—away from him. “This is the last thing I want, Lucy.”
“That hotel is the reason you’re here,” I point out.
“I know, I know it is. But…” He drags his fingers through his hair.
“Jake—”
“What if…” He holds his hands out to me, palms up. I hesitate, then accept them, allowing him to lift me from my seat. He stands as well, his arms coming around my waist as he continues. “What if we take the hotel off the table? Set it to the side for a while.”
“You mean pretend you’re not the representative for something threatening to hurt my loving community?”
“Well, yeah.” He peers down at me, worry creasing the corners of his eyes. “Will you try just being Jake and Lucy with me?”
I lift a hand to fiddle with the hem of his sleeve. “It sounds a little too convenient—forgetting like that.”
“Not forgetting, but rather letting the rest of the town be pissed about this news. And instead, we’ll simply… be.” After a beat, he adds, “Fate did work pretty hard to bring us together in the first place. It would be a shame to ignore that.”
I give a little laugh, shaking my head. “You mean pretend you’re really here to write a travel article?”
“I can’t take it, being tied to this thing I’m not even sure about anymore. I need to know if we can… I need us to—”
“What about us?” I practically plead.
“I’m not waiting for the sign from the universe. I’ve got it. I really think I’ve got it when I’m with you.”
“Why do you believe in fate?”
“It’s a nice idea, don’t you think? That forces are out there conspiring to help you find what’s truly meant for you.”
“It is,” I admit. And I allow myself a minute to imagine that he’s right. That maybe we are meant to be.
I want to agree. I want to forget the reasons I should avoid this man and instead lean further into him. But what happens when it’s time to address the problem we’ve pushed to the side? I wonder how much more it will hurt to come back to it.
Concerns with his plan sit on the tip of my tongue. But then his hand is lifting to my jaw, cupping my face, and his thumb is tenderly sweeping along my cheek. I look into his eyes. Those eyes that remind me of my morning coffee—rich and inviting.
“I know what I’m asking for is completely selfish,” he says softly.
“Tell me no. Tell me I’m out of line and I’ll understand.
But, Lucy, since I met you, all I do is think about things I had long since given up on.
Things I want to do, and who I want to be.
And at the top of that list, I want to be with you. ”
His confession sends warmth radiating through me. And my lips part as I suck in a breath.
Never have I felt this desired.
Never have I desired someone so thoroughly in return.
He tilts forward, resting his forehead against mine and says, “I know I showed up unannounced and am asking you for this big thing. I don’t expect an answer tonight.”
His breath is warm, and it tickles the tip of my nose.
“So instead, I’ll say goodnight, Lucy.”
“Jake…” I breathe as he pulls away.
And watching him gesture for his dog to join him on the walk to the front door, I feel certain that my mind is already made up.
I don’t want to freeze again.
“Jake,” I repeat, sharper this time. He stops, only a step from the threshold, and turns back to face me.
I’m already moving towards him with such determination I practically slam against him. He doesn’t miss a beat, wrapping me up in his arms once more.
It feels right to be back in his embrace, so right that I launch up on my toes and bring my mouth to his.
Again, he doesn’t hesitate, his mouth slanting over mine with delicious weight.
I expected kissing Jake to be dizzying. I was already delirious with need; I assumed that finally having him like this would push it right over the edge.
But, in reality, the way his mouth takes mine is something else entirely. And so much better.
It’s a steady, quiet kind of magic. An ember sparking within me that I know will linger long after he’s gone back to the city.
His one hand keeps me pressed tight to him while the other finds my claw clip, squeezing until my hair falls free. Then he tosses it aside so his fingers can tangle in my locks instead.
We spin, my back settling against the door and him settling against me. I angle my chin up to better accommodate his height, and he takes advantage of the way he towers over me, deepening the kiss.
When a sated whimper escapes me, he chases it, devours it. God, I should have kissed this man the day he saved my life, right there in the middle of the street.
Coming up for air, we pull apart enough for me to slide my hands up onto his chest. It’s rising and falling with considerable effort, sending a thrill through me. I really enjoy wreaking havoc on him.
“Let’s forget the hotel issue,” I rasp.
Jake smiles, then pulls me into a hurried, fervent kiss. Then he follows it with another.
His hand squeezes my waist, the other leaving my hair to plant itself against the door above me. “You’re sure?” he asks, his voice strangled.
I nod up at him. “Yea—”
He catches my answer with his mouth, and I sink against him happily. Maybe this decision will be my demise, but I have a feeling he was right—it will be sweet.