Chapter 7
Emily hugged her arms around her waist while droplets of water dripped onto Jake’s concrete driveway, forming puddles around
her Birkenstocks.
Jake tapped in the code for his garage door, and the motor hummed while the door lifted. His plain tan T-shirt was damp and
sticking to his shoulders and back, and as much as she tried to look away, her eyes defied her and studied how the taut muscles
in his torso flexed as he moved. The magnificent sight was almost as intoxicating as the view of him with his shirt off. She’d
been so mesmerized by him that she’d pushed him into the water to shake herself from her momentary stupor.
He sauntered into the garage. “I’ll get us some towels.”
Emily glanced around the garage, which contained shelves of tools and supplies, lawn equipment, and a bicycle.
When she spotted a shelf holding jugs containing an orange liquid, she rushed over to it. “Jake Hughes! How long have you
been making cider?”
He brushed his hand over his sternum. “A while. Hasn’t worked out yet.”
“Can I try some?” she asked.
“Don’t bother. It’s not any good.” He started for the door. “I’ll be right back with a towel for you.” He disappeared inside
the house.
Once the door clicked shut, she began to examine the jugs. According to the dates scrawled on the surface, he’d been working
on cider for more than a year, and he’d never mentioned it to her once. Curious. She’d always assumed they told each other
everything. She was both impressed by his effort and disappointed that he’d never shared it with her. Perhaps she didn’t know
everything about him after all.
Emily tugged open the refrigerator door and found two more jugs of cider on the top shelf beside a few bottles of water. One
of the jugs was three-quarters full. After locating a cup on a nearby workbench, she poured herself some and took a long drink.
The tart goodness slipped down her throat, and she smiled before taking another long drink. Jake had brewed some delicious
nonalcoholic cider! Why had he kept this to himself? Soon the cup was empty, and she refilled it before drinking more.
The back door opened, and Jake walked down the garage steps dressed in fresh athletic shorts and a blue T-shirt that complemented
his gorgeous eyes and brawny torso.
“What are you doing?” he asked while holding out a large beach towel featuring multicolored surfboards in one hand and a shirt
and shorts in the other.
She placed the cup on the workbench and wrapped the towel around herself. “I’m enjoying the homemade cider you hid in your
fridge, and I’m also trying to figure out why you’ve kept it a secret.”
“Aren’t you supposed to ask permission before going through someone’s fridge?”
“Not when I’m at your house.” She lifted a corner of the towel and rubbed it over her long hair. “The cider’s delicious. You
need to sell it. Seriously.”
“No, it’s not good enough.” He held up the shorts and shirt. “Here are some dry clothes. The shorts have a drawstring. They’re
good enough to get you back to my folks’ house.”
“Thanks.” She climbed the stairs leading into his laundry room.
“Hey,” he called, and she spun to face him. “Next time we swim, how about we change into our swimsuits first?”
“Where’s the fun in that?” she asked, and the grin she received in return made her insides turn to mush.
Emily hurried through the laundry room to the bathroom, where she stripped out of her wet shirt, tank top, and shorts. She
lifted the gray shirt he’d given her over her head and breathed in the cozy smell of his laundry detergent while hugging the
soft fabric against her body. Then she stepped into his black athletic shorts and tied the drawstring as tight as she could.
She gathered up her wet clothes and exited the bathroom, meeting Dusty in the hallway. “Hey, girl.” Crouching down, she rubbed
the cat’s head. Dusty lifted her chin and purred with delight. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”
“Meow!”
Emily left the wet towel on his washing machine and found a grocery bag for her soggy clothes before returning to the garage,
where Jake rested against a metal shelf while talking on the phone. Her stomach sank as she imagined Claire on the other end,
spewing her undying love for him and begging him to run away to Nashville with her.
Way to be dramatic, Emily!
“All right,” he said. “We’ll be there soon.” He disconnected the call and dropped his phone into his pocket before rubbing
his hands together. “We’ve been summoned for supper. It’s taco night.”
Emily almost sagged with relief. “Great!”
He started out the open door.
“Wait.” She sidled up to him and pointed to the jugs of cider sitting on the shelf. “We’re going to sell your cider in the
barn. I’ll design a label.”
He shoved his hand through his wet hair, and his messy locks reminded her of when they were in high school. “It’s not ready.”
“Then we’ll work on it until you think it is.”
He pursed his lips for a moment before taking her hand in his. His warm skin sent a thrill zipping down her spine. “You know
my mom doesn’t like it when we’re late for supper. Let’s go.” He took a step and tugged her hand, but she stood firm, unmoving.
She held on to him. “Have your folks tried your cider?”
“No, they don’t need to know about it.”
“You should tell them.”
“Not until it’s perfected.” His expression sobered. “It’s a secret. Please keep it to yourself, okay?” he asked, and she nodded.
“Promise me.”
She pretended to lock her lips with an invisible key.
He laughed. “Let’s go eat.”
“Why is Emily wearing your clothes?” Mom asked while Jake loaded the dishwasher with their empty plates after supper.
The sound of the shower running in the upstairs hall bathroom hummed above them.
While they’d eaten Mom’s delicious tacos, along with rice and refried beans, Emily entertained his parents with hilarious stories about customers she’d encountered at the coffee shop in Charlotte.
He appreciated how Emily happily chatted with his folks and how she felt like part of the family—like she always had.
And he couldn’t help thinking about how cute she looked in his clothes.
After supper, he’d told Emily to go shower while he helped Mom with the dishes. Emily had tried to protest, insisting she
needed to help, but after a little pouting, she finally agreed to go upstairs.
“We went for a swim after I worked on the barn roof with Vince and the guys. We were both soaked, so we stopped by my place
and got some dry clothes.”
“I’m sure the lake was refreshing after that hard work,” Mom said as she packaged the leftovers in containers. “I love having
Emily here. Feels like old times. If only Ally were here too.”
Jake nodded and added the utensils to the dishwasher.
“Emily gives you a run for your money, that’s for sure. I can see her pushing you into the lake.” She chuckled.
“How’d you know swimming was her idea?” he joked.
Mom chuckled. “I know how she is.”
Jake grinned while he recalled splashing her in the lake. And how good she looked with her clothes clinging to her and her
long hair cascading down her back and dripping on the dock. His heart skipped a beat.
Dude, she’s your friend! Knock it off!
“She’s never been afraid to challenge you. I’ve always loved that about her.”
Me too. Along with many other things.
Jake stacked the glasses on the top shelf of the dishwasher and tried to cool the temperature inside his head.
“When are you going to see Claire again?” Mom asked.
“Don’t know.” He kept his eyes focused on the dishwasher.
“Jake,” Mom said, and he busied himself with adding the serving platters. “Look at me.”
He blew out a long sigh and faced her.
The concern in her blue eyes pricked his heart. “I can tell you and Claire are having problems.” Her face was solemn. “Do
you want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
Mom patted his cheek. “Honey, you’re almost thirty. You might want to start thinking about settling down. Especially if you
want to start a family.”
Jake let out a slow breath. “I hear you, Mom. Right now I’m focused on the orchard.”
“Don’t let life pass you by. That’s all I’m trying to say.” Her eyes reddened as they began to pool with tears.
Oh no.
“Your dad’s heart attack made me realize how—how precious life is.”
He touched her arm. “I know.” His voice was gravelly.
She cleared her throat. “That’s why you need to get married, son.” She clasped her hands together. “Your dad’s health is fragile.
I know a wedding and some grandbabies would lift his soul so much.”
Jake pressed his lips together. “Listen, a wedding isn’t on my agenda right now. But maybe Ally will get married first and
give you and Dad some grandkids.”
Mom wiped her eyes. “We almost lost your dad.” Her voice sounded thick. “I’m so afraid of losing him. We’ve been together
thirty-five years.”
Ugh.
Seeing his mom cry was too much. He tried to swallow back the guilt clogging his throat.
“You and Claire have been through so much. You can’t give up on her now. She was your rock after your dad’s heart attack.”
He agreed that he and Claire had history. But a future together? He wasn’t so sure about that.
Mom turned her attention to stacking the containers of leftovers in the refrigerator. When the shower stopped running above
them, an idea hit him.
He added a detergent packet to the dishwasher before starting it.
“I need to go look for something,” he told his mom.
As he jogged up the stairs to his old room, he tried to shake off his mom’s emotional discussion. He needed to focus on the
present—which was the orchard. He’d ponder his future later.
Emily sat on the edge of the bed, clad in a pair of cotton shorts and a green tank top as she brushed her waist-length dark
hair. Not only had supper been delicious, but the conversation was lively and fun. She enjoyed laughing and bantering with
Jake and his folks.
When she was younger, Emily used to imagine she was married to Jake, and his family was her family. Such a ridiculous fantasy,
but tonight the feeling overcame her once again. She tried to tamp it down, but the more she laughed and talked with them,