Chapter 2
Emily stretched as her eyes flickered open. A beam of sunlight peeked through the slats in the white blinds, and for a moment,
she forgot where she was. Then she scanned the room, finding the familiar white dressers and desk, along with the orchard
photos that Jake’s grandfather had taken in spring, summer, fall, and winter. A panoramic of the lake in spring, which Emily
had painted for Jake’s parents for Christmas when she was seventeen, hung on the far wall. She hugged her middle while taking
in the bright colors in the painting—the greens, blues, and oranges—and recalled how she’d felt while working on the piece.
She’d spent months getting the painting perfect for Jake’s parents. Back then her muse had been her constant companion, prompting
her to draw and paint almost nonstop.
But then her muse disappeared on the day that had changed everything.
Flopping back onto the pillow, she tried to dismiss the familiar grief that bubbled up inside her when she least expected it.
This room had become her sanctuary after she’d lost her home and her parents.
Her mom and dad had been on their second honeymoon, enjoying their twenty-fifth anniversary in the Caribbean.
It was a decision that had destroyed the only life she’d ever known.
She closed her eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath as the events of last night scrolled through her mind. She was back
in Splendid Lake with Jake.
Jake.
When she’d received his text three days ago, she was pleasantly surprised but also confused. They’d gotten into a routine
of texting each other memes and jokes every couple of days, along with sporadic messages with actual words maybe once or twice
a week. Although she craved more meaningful communication with Jake, she’d given up that hope years ago—four years ago, to
be exact, when she’d lost her parents. After that, reality had smacked her in the face—her parents were gone, Jake had chosen
Claire, and that was that. It was time to grow up and move on—literally—which was why she’d sold the house and fled to Charlotte with what few pieces she had left of her heart. Her plan was to
start over and try to build a life centered on her art and her dream of falling in love with someone other than Jake, someone
who loved her completely. So far neither plan had worked out. And although Jake was in love with someone else, she treasured
their friendship.
When she’d gotten Jake’s text on Wednesday, the tone was different from their usual “Hey, what’s up?” She grabbed her phone
from the nightstand and reread their text discussion from a few days ago.
Jake: Yo, Carmichael! Any chance you can come home for a bit? I need your help with something important.
Emily: What’s up?
Jake: It’s complicated.
Emily: Is your dad okay?
Jake: Yes.
Emily: Your mom and Ally?
Jake: They’re fine.
Emily: Are YOU okay?
Jake: Yes! So can you come?
Emily: How soon?
Jake: Yesterday
Emily: What’s going on?
Jake: I’ll explain when you get here.
Emily: Fine. See you Saturday.
Jake: Great. You’re the best.
Emily: You know it.
Jake:
While she was frustrated with Jake’s secrecy, she was relieved to have a reason to go home—not that she needed one. But knowing that Jake needed her was comforting and gave her trip a purpose.
Although she treasured Jake and his family, the holiday visits were agonizing for her. She appreciated how Jake’s parents
treated her like their bonus daughter, but seeing Jake with Claire was painful. She’d accepted years ago that Jake would always
pick Claire over her, but seeing them whisper, kiss, and cuddle felt like a stab to her heart, even after thirteen years.
She’d done her best to appear nonchalant every time Jake touched Claire, but Emily was convinced Claire enjoyed basking in
Jake’s attention in front of her. And Emily couldn’t blame her. She’d do the same if Jake were hers.
All right, enough of the pity party. Get your rear in gear!
Emily pushed herself out of bed and chose a pair of jean shorts and a T-shirt from the dresser. She’d unpacked before showering
and climbing in bed last night.
It felt strange not to put on her khakis, black shirt, and yellow apron before heading to the dreaded coffee shop. She’d given
notice the same day that Jake texted, and she tried not to smile as she told her manager that she had to go home due to a
family emergency. She’d despised the job. The only fun part was doodling on the cups, and she relished when the customers
complimented her artwork.
After styling her hair in a ponytail, she trotted down the stairs toward the savory smells of eggs and toast. Leon sipped
coffee and read the paper as he sat in his usual spot at the table.
She reached the kitchen and stopped in the doorway while Jake flipped eggs in a pan and his mom buttered two pieces of toast.
Emily leaned against the doorframe and enjoyed the view for a moment.
Jake had always been cute with his blond hair and striking blue eyes, but his easy sense of humor, tender heart, and unwavering loyalty to his family and friends were what won Emily over at a young age.
She’d always sort of crushed on him. If she were honest, sometimes in their treehouse, she wondered what it would be like to reach over and kiss him on the lips.
She just wanted to see what it felt like.
When he turned sixteen and sprouted up a foot taller than Emily, she began to notice that the way she looked at Jake felt . . .
different.
Because all of a sudden he had become hot—super hot.
His baby face was gone, and his cheekbones looked as if they’d been chiseled from fine granite. When Emily watched him work
in the orchard, she couldn’t look away from his white T-shirt, soaked with sweat, clinging to the muscles rippling in his
back, the way his biceps seemed to squeeze his sleeves. It didn’t take long for his physique to capture the attention of all
the girls at school. And it didn’t take long for him to start returning their interest.
That’s when Emily realized . . . she wanted to be more than just Jake’s best friend.
Emily used to wonder: If she had asked Jake to the homecoming dance before Claire did, would she have snagged Jake’s heart
first? But the past was the past, and there was no escaping it, no matter how much Emily’s stubborn heart pined for Jake—and
he never noticed.
Still, as she watched him slip the scrambled eggs from the skillet onto a plate, she couldn’t help but notice that his shoulders
seemed somehow broader than the last time she’d seen him. And her eyes were glued to the thick, ropy muscles wrapped around
his forearm as he set the plate on the counter.
Had the air-conditioning stopped working in the large farmhouse? Because boy, was it hot in here!
Jake spun to face her as if he’d heard her thoughts, and she tried to ignore the heat crawling up her neck to her cheeks.
He flashed his heart-stopping, boyish grin at her. “Well, look who finally crawled out of bed,” he joked. “We thought you’d
sleep the day away.”
“Ha ha,” she retorted before sticking her tongue out at him.
Diane laughed. “You two have always acted like siblings.”
It took all of Emily’s strength to hold in the sigh building in her stomach.
Jake handed Emily a cup of coffee in a white mug sporting the Hughes Family Orchard logo. “Tons of sugar and more cream than
coffee. Just the way you like it.”
She took a sip. Ahhh. He knew how to make the best cup of coffee. “Perfect.”
“I don’t know how you drink that. It tastes like coffee-flavored creamer.” Jake made a face and added the toast his mom had
buttered onto the plate of eggs, along with a few pieces of bacon, before handing her the plate. “Have a seat.”
At the far end of the table, Leon flipped through the Splendid Lake News while he continued to drink his coffee.
She sank down onto a chair, then took a bite of eggs. “My compliments to the chef.”
“Tips are lousy,” Jake teased before sitting beside her.
“What’s on the agenda for today?”
“Well, I thought we’d—”
Jake’s words were cut off by his ringing phone.
Emily tried to peek over at the name on the screen, but he answered it too fast. She assumed it was Claire and tried to shove
away her jealousy.
After thirteen years, you should be used to it!
“Hi, Ms. Riley,” Jake said with a bright smile. “What’s up?” he asked and then he listened.
So it wasn’t Claire! Ms. Riley was their retired elementary school teacher who lived down the street. Relieved, Emily took
a bite of toast before drinking more coffee.
Diane sat across from Emily. “Jake has been helping Linda since her husband passed away last year.”
“That sounds like Jake,” Emily said. He had always offered to mow lawns for their elderly neighbors, and she would tag along
and help with the trimming and weeding. They always had fun together, whether they were doing yard work for someone else or
cutting loose with a swim in the lake.
“Okay, Ms. Riley. I’ll see you soon.” He disconnected the call and swiped a piece of Emily’s bacon. “How about we run some
errands and then help Ms. Riley?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Thirty minutes later, Emily climbed into the passenger side of Jake’s black, mid-nineties Dodge pickup. The diesel engine
chattered to life, and she smiled at the familiar sound. She’d taken hundreds of rides in the truck since Jake got his license
at sixteen.
“It’s so cool that you kept your grandpa’s truck.”
He rested his left arm on the door and drove out of his gravel driveway, steering with his right hand. “Claire thinks it’s
time to retire it and buy a new one.”
“Don’t listen to her.” Emily waved off the suggestion. “This truck is so fun, and it sounds like a train too.”