10
“Can you believe I’ve never been out here?” Lexie asked that Saturday as she looked across Valley Lake and the beach-like expanse of grass that sloped from the tree line to the water.
“Seriously? I feel like I spend as much time here as I do at work,” Jake said. He unloaded a blanket and a picnic basket from the backseat of his truck, and Lexie watched with a fond smile. He was the only guy she knew who would track down an actual picnic basket for a picnic. Anyone else would have just used a plastic grocery sack.
“What?” he asked, probably catching her odd expression, and Lexie shook her head.
“I’m just wondering where you found that,” she said, jutting her chin toward the elaborate wicker container, complete with a red gingham liner that folded down around the edges. Jake carried it easily in one hand and used the other to steer her toward the base of a wide oak tree where the ground seemed level.
“It’s my Aunt Christy’s, actually. Apparently, it was a wedding present from somebody important,” he replied.
“And she’s letting you use it?”
“Yeah, but I’ve been threatened with hard farm labor if it doesn’t return in pristine condition.”
Lexie chuckled, imagining Jake shoveling out a horse barn or something equally disgusting.
“Did you work on the farm as a kid?” she asked as she helped him spread the old quilt on the grass and smooth it out. She toed off her sandals and settled onto one side of the blanket.
“Of course. We all did,” he answered, stretching out beside her. “I’ve hauled hay, chopped wood, herded livestock, repaired barns and fences, planted crops—the works. It’s a family enterprise.”
Lexie watched him pull two wrapped sub sandwiches, chips, cut fruit and several kinds of baked goods from the wicker basket, and she bit the inside of her lip when she recognized the university’s logo on the wrappers.
“Did you steal this from the cafeteria?” she asked, trying hard not to laugh.
Jake shrugged and gave a sheepish grin. “I have a meal plan, so it’s not stealing. It’s like... taking an advance.”
Lexie laughed, then unwrapped her sub and popped open a bowl of strawberries. It was a beautiful day—the kind of October afternoon that could be painted on canvas. The lake reflected wispy white clouds, and dragonflies darted here and there among the reeds lining the shore. Lexie looked around, amazed that she’d spent three and a half years living barely ten miles from this spot and had never taken the time to explore it.
“I take a lot of pictures out here,” Jake said, nodding toward a long wooden dock at the edge of the lake. “There’s an eagle’s nest on the other side, and I’ve gotten a few good shots of them bringing fish back for the eaglets.”
“Do you take a lot of wildlife photos? I’ve only ever seen you shoot school events.”
Jake nodded as he pulled a bottle of Dr. Pepper from the basket. He cracked the seal and passed it to her before opening a second one for himself.
“Wildlife is what I love most, actually. Animals behave in so many different ways, and you never know exactly what you’re going to get. Take the eagles, for example. Sometimes I can wait for hours and they do nothing but sit on their nest. Other times, I can be out here for thirty minutes and watch them dive toward the water to hunt and then carry a trout back to their babies and rip it to shreds.”
Lexie’s eyebrows arched, and she scooted closer to Jake. “Can you show me some?” she asked.
Jake wiped his hands on his jeans before reaching for his phone. He opened a photo album called “Valley Lake” and handed her the device before planting his hand on the blanket behind her. They weren’t actually touching, but Lexie could feel him hovering the same way he had during the awards dinner—just close enough to make her squirm. She wondered if he was doing it on purpose, if he knew how all the tiny hairs on the back of her neck were standing straight up.
“This one was after a big rainstorm,” he said, reaching around her to enlarge a photo of an adult eagle perched on the edge of a massive nest, water droplets clearly visible on its sleek feathers.
He swiped to another image. “Then this was last June when the trumpet creeper opened up,” he said. The photo was stunning—a tiny hummingbird hovering near a crimson blossom, its iridescent wings frozen in time.
Lexie stared at it, mesmerized. She almost expected the bird to move.
“These are amazing!” she said. She flipped through a few more images—a fish breaching the surface of the lake, sending ripples in all directions; a duck stretching its feet toward the misty water as it landed; a tiny frog resting on a leaf. “Why didn’t you tell me you were this good?”
Jake shrugged, and Lexie could almost feel the motion against the back of her shirt.
“It’s just about patience, really. Half the battle is being willing to wait for the right shot; the other half is knowing how to program your camera.”
“Jake,” Lexie said, “this isn’t just luck. This is real talent! You could put these in magazines.”
“Well, that’s what I hope to do,” he said. “National Geographic is the dream, of course, but there are lots of smaller places to start and work my way up. Tennessee Farm Bureau, for example, publishes a magazine a few times a year—lots of wildlife and scenic shots. I could start somewhere like that and get a few years of experience, then transfer to something bigger.”
Lexie felt her chest tighten as she shifted to look back at him over her shoulder. He was so sure about his career path, already taking steps to get where he wanted to go. For the first time, she realized that the end of the school year would inevitably take them in different directions. The months suddenly felt too short.
“I’ve wasted so much time,” she said, her voice softer and sadder than she’d expected it to be.
Jake frowned and held her gaze, his eyes studying hers. “What do you mean?”
“I mean we could have been doing this for months.” She swept her arm over the blanket and the picnic and the lake. “And it’s my fault we didn’t.”
A spark of something flashed through Jake’s eyes, but then he blinked, and it was gone. Instead, he lowered his head slowly and placed a soft kiss against the curve where her neck met her shoulder. He stayed there for a moment, like he was thinking, and Lexie felt her bare skin burn under his touch.
“Maybe we could have dated sooner, but we aren’t starting at the beginning,” he finally said, shifting until the front of his shoulder was resting against her back.
Lexie frowned in confusion. “What do you mean?” she asked, echoing his words from a moment before.
“I mean this isn’t really a first date,” he explained. “First dates are awkward. You have to navigate through all the get-to-know-you stuff and decide if the person is worth spending more of your time with or if you’d rather move on to someone else. But we’ve been doing that for months, and I already know what my choice is. Sure, this might be our first actual date where I can call you my girlfriend, but we’re not going backwards.
“I’m not going to worry about graduation until it gets here, and neither should you. Right now is right now, and right now, I want to lie in the shade and eat stolen cafeteria food with the most beautiful girl in the world. And then, I want to take her fishing.”
Lexie blinked, feeling heat creep up her neck. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from breaking into the kind of childish grin that would make her giggle like a teenager.
“I thought you said it wasn’t stolen,” she quipped, cocking her head back again to see him.
Jake blew out a puff of air. “That’s your takeaway?” he asked, though he was smiling.
“I’m dating a strawberry thief,” she teased, reaching back to pat the side of his face fondly. “My daddy will be so proud.”
Jake chuckled, and Lexie let the sound wash over her, trying to ignore the dull ache that suddenly bloomed behind her rib cage. No, her daddy would not be proud. But that wasn’t Jake’s fault.
“You said fishing?” she asked, changing the subject. “I don’t know how to fish.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll show you,” he said, unperturbed. He sat up straighter, his hand coming off the blanket and settling against her waist as he did, and Lexie concentrated on the pressure of his palm against her side. He was right. They weren’t starting at the beginning.
Not even close.
Jake stifled a laugh as Lexie yanked hard on her tangled line, irritation evident on her face.
“I don’t know what makes you think I can do this!” she huffed, struggling to retrieve her lure from a bush behind her. He crouched and deftly released the hook from where it had caught on a small branch.
“Because you’re an incredibly smart woman who can do anything she puts her mind to,” he said.
He watched her reel in the excess fishing line that had unspooled in her agitation, and when Lexie visibly relaxed, Jake felt a surge of satisfaction. She soaked up words of praise like a flower straining for the light, and he was on a personal mission to make sure she heard some every single day.
“You’re releasing too early,” he explained, coming up behind her. He reached around to close his hand over hers on the fishing pole. He pressed his thumb on the button below the reel and drew his wrist back, taking hers with it. “Flick back over your shoulder like this and then release the line out in front of you,” he said, sweeping the pole forward and expertly casting several yards into the lake.
Lexie shook her head and switched the rod to her left hand so she could wind the reel with her right.
“I know what you’re doing,” she said as Jake settled his arms around her waist and pulled her snug against his chest. He could hear the smile in her voice.
“What am I doing?” he asked.
“You wanted me to need help so you’d have an excuse to snuggle.”
He laughed, unsurprised by her observation.
“Busted,” he said, though he was actually looking for an excuse to kiss her again. He didn’t want her to think that was all he wanted, but he was a guy, and there were only so many brain cells he could distract at any given time.
Suddenly, something yanked on Lexie’s line as it skimmed through the water.
“Jake!” she said, instantly excited. “Jake, I think I caught something!”
“Well, reel it in!”
“Help me!” she said, fighting against the pull of whatever had taken her bait. The water at the end of her line sloshed violently as the creature fought back.
“You’ve got it!” Jake encouraged, and he moved away to give her room to maneuver. “Walk backwards and pull him in. Don’t let him get the best of you!”
Lexie did as he said, and after a few moments, a large bass breached the surface. Jake whistled and whooped as he snapped a photo on his phone.
“That’s my girl!” he hollered, crouching to subdue the bass where it flopped around in the soft grass. Lexie beamed in satisfaction.
“He’s big enough to eat!” Jake added, removing the hook from the fish’s lip with practiced skill. “Do you want to touch him?” He held the animal out to her, and Lexie shrank back in disgust.
“No, thank you.”
“Aww, come on. He won’t hurt you,” he insisted, but Lexie wanted no part of the creature in his hands. A silly smile spread across Jake’s face as an idea took shape in his mind.
“What’s that, Mr. Bass?” he said, pretending to listen intently as the fish’s mouth opened and closed. “You want to give the pretty lady a kiss? Well, I’m sure that can be arranged.” He zeroed in on Lexie as he rose to his feet.
“Jake, don’t you dare. Don’t even think about it,” she warned, her eyes widening as she stepped back. But Jake kept moving toward her, ignoring her shriek when she slipped on a wet patch of grass and stumbled. “Jacob! Stop!” she demanded with a half-laugh.
Jake stilled, processing the use of his full name; nobody but family ever called him Jacob. Strangely, he found he didn’t mind when Lexie did. He smothered another smile and tried to keep his expression under control.
“You know what, Mr. Bass? I don’t think the pretty lady wants to kiss you,” he said, addressing the fish, which only gaped in response. “Well, I don’t blame you. I’d feel the same way.”
Lexie giggled while Jake returned the bass to the water, talking to it the whole time. He held it just under the surface for a moment to let it catch its breath, then it swished its fins and was gone. He straightened and wiped his hands on his jeans.
“Alright, the big, scary fish went home.”
“I never said he was scary. I just think he’s gross,” Lexie said defensively.
Jake made a tsking noise. “He only wanted to say hello. The least you could have done was tell him you’re sorry for putting a hole in his lip.”
“He’s the one who chomped on the hook! Greedy little monster,” Lexie said, her hands on her hips as Jake approached.
He shook his head and made that disapproving noise again. “Well, be that as it may, now you’ve got a problem.”
Lexie raised one eyebrow. “Oh, I do? And what would that be?”
“I charge an outrageous fish-handling fee.”
“What?!” Lexie shouted, feigning outrage. “Fees should be disclosed before services are rendered.”
Jake shrugged. “It’s not my fault you didn’t read the contract.”
Lexie narrowed her eyes. “Would a dollar cover it?” she asked.
“Nope.”
“Five?”
Jake shook his head, stepping into her personal space and looking down at her. He felt every inch of his skin come alive, the way it always did when she was close by.
“What about a kiss?” she asked.
Jake tilted his head from side to side, pretending to think about it.
“I guess that would work,” he answered. He started to lean down, but Lexie stopped him with a palm on the front of his shirt.
“But you can’t touch me with your fishy hands. Put them behind your back,” she ordered, and Jake chuckled in surprise.
“Yes, ma’am.” He crossed his arms behind his back and waited. If he couldn’t reach for her, then she would have to come to him.
Lexie stepped close enough that he could feel her body heat through the cotton of his T-shirt. She studied him for a moment, her eyes moving over his face as if planning her attack, and Jake closed one hand around his own wrist to remind himself to play by her rules—though she seemed intent on torturing him for as long as possible. Finally, she pushed up on her toes and deliberately skimmed her lips over his with a barely-there touch that pulled an involuntary rumble from his throat. Lexie smiled and did it again before softly settling her mouth against his, her fingers curled in the front of his shirt to keep him close.
Jake inhaled sharply as his mind went foggy, and he forgot to follow instructions. His hands moved of their own accord, reaching until his palms skimmed the top of her jeans.
Lexie broke the kiss without warning. “Uh-uh, I said no fishy hands. Fishy hands are gross,” she reminded him, her voice playful. She took a step back, but he followed with a smirk.
“Jake, I said hands to yourself. Jacob!” she shrieked. She pivoted to run, but he snagged one of her belt loops with his fingers and yanked her back, pulling another squeal from her throat. He peppered kisses down the side of her neck, then ended with a loud raspberry when he reached the top of her shoulder.
“Alright, I paid. Now let go of me, you animal,” she said, laughing as she squirmed.
“I don’t remember you being this bossy before I asked you out,” he said.
“Are you regretting that decision?”
“Not yet, but there’s still time.”
“Shut up!” she said, her voice still full of humor.
Jake spun her around and pulled her closer, unable to contain the smile that took over his face. “Maybe you should make me.”
“So, how many backpacks have been filled this year?” Lexie asked, holding her voice recorder toward where Principal Hardeman stood with one elbow propped against the hood of an industrial stove.
“We pack nearly two hundred backpacks every Thursday, which means around eight hundred a month,” he explained. “At this point in the school year, we’ve sent home more than two thousand.”
“Wow!” Lexie exclaimed. “What does each package contain?”
“Well, it’s all nonperishable food that’s been donated by local grocery stores, convenience centers and businesses, as well as kids and their parents who choose to bring in food each week. Let me show you,” he said. He led the way toward what looked like a classroom door branching off the elementary school’s cafeteria.
Lexie was surprised to find the room had been converted into a giant pantry with shelves nearly reaching the ceiling. They were packed with cans and boxes of items like macaroni and cheese, beef jerky, crackers, soup, cereal and almond milk. A huge crate of well-used backpacks was pushed against the far wall.
“We have a team of faculty members and volunteers who come each week and pack the bags with a set list of items for that weekend’s meals. The kids who get these don’t have reliable access to food outside of school, so we want to be sure they aren’t going hungry when they leave here,” Mr. Hardeman explained. “We hand the bags out discreetly as they leave on Friday, and they bring the empty packs back on Monday and drop them in the bin as they get off the buses. That way we’re bringing as little extra attention to them as possible.”
Lexie thanked Mr. Hardeman and turned off her voice recorder as Jake piped up from the doorway.
“Could I get a few shots of you in here?” he asked, addressing their host.
The Cypress Valley alum immediately jumped to accommodate him, obviously thrilled to have his program featured by his alma mater. Lexie hung back as Jake captured images not only of Mr. Hardeman but also of the shelves and food items from various angles. The light in the room wasn’t ideal, but she had faith he would work his magic somehow. He always did.
“We make a good team,” Jake said later as they made their way out to a black Ford Focus waiting in the parking lot, the gold Cypress Valley State University emblem emblazoned on both sides. Jake twirled the borrowed keys around his index finger before popping the locks and opening her door.
“Didn’t we already know that?” she asked as she climbed into her seat.
“Well, yeah, but we’ve always done the boring things—classroom dedications and awards ceremonies. We’ve never done this kind of assignment together.”
She grinned as she watched him stow his gear in the backseat and then slide behind the wheel. He was right. Travel interviews were normally conducted by full-time staff, but a scheduling conflict had made it necessary to send interns instead. Lexie and Jake had gotten the story by default. Not that they’d had to go very far—Donaldson County Elementary School was only a forty-minute drive from Cypress Valley.
“So, do you want to grab a treat for the way back?” Jake asked, plugging his phone into the car’s USB port and cueing up a playlist.
“Ice cream sounds awesome,” Lexie replied.
Jake chuckled. “Dairy Queen it is then,” he said, turning to look over his shoulder as he backed out of the parking spot. “But no cones in this car, please. Your track record is not good.”
Lexie rolled her eyes and reached automatically for his hand where it rested on the gearshift. He caught her fingers between his as he pulled out onto the main road. “And this time, I’m buying,” he added, and Lexie felt her heart squeeze a little.
“I wish that first time had been a date,” she admitted.
Jake glanced at her quickly before turning his gaze back out the window, where downtown Donaldson flashed past them.
“I’d kind of meant for it to be,” he said, not meeting her eye.
“Yeah, I know,” she murmured.
“Then why did you say yes?” he asked, his tone somewhat hesitant. They’d never actually talked about this part of their history.
Lexie sighed deeply and squeezed his hand. “Because I wanted it to be.”
She could see a smile cross Jake’s face, even in profile, as he stopped at a red light.
“How about I take you out for real this weekend?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean on an actual get-dressed-up-and-go-somewhere-nice kind of date. Not just lunch by the lake or ice cream in the car.”
“I loved lunch by the lake!” she protested.
“Well, sure, but I want you to know I can do the fancy stuff, too,” he said. There was a self-conscious edge to his voice that made Lexie frown, and she studied his face while he drove. He seemed to be purposefully avoiding her eyes.
“Jacob,” she started, “I don’t care about ‘fancy stuff.’”
“I know, I just...” He trailed off, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel. “I just don’t want you to be disappointed.”
“Jacob Tanner!” Lexie barked, making him whip his head toward her in alarm. “Pull over!”
“What? Why?”
“Pull over!” she insisted, and she could see him scanning the businesses on the right side of the road, looking for a place to turn. When he finally brought the car to a stop outside an empty post office, she shoved the gearshift into park and turned to him with fire in her eyes.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I want to show you something, and I want to have your full attention,” Lexie said, her voice firm. She wanted to stop this line of thinking once and for all.
“Okay,” he said, his eyes wide, like he’d suddenly found himself in the principal’s office at school. His gaze dropped to where Lexie’s hand slid into the pocket of her slacks. She closed her fingers around the flattened penny and pulled it out before showing it to him. It was just a tarnished coin he’d probably pulled from the bottom of his pocket. Literally one single cent—now worth even less. He stared at it in confusion, and Lexie waited until recognition dawned on his face before she went on.
“Colt gave me thousands of dollars in jewelry, and he took every bit of it with him when he left because that’s all I was worth to him. I was a shiny doll that he used to show off his daddy’s money, and when I wouldn’t play anymore, he took his expensive toys and went home. He expected me to care, but I didn’t. You know why? Because he never gave me a single thing that really mattered.
“But this? This I carry with me every single day. This would break my heart if I lost it. This is more important to me than all the fancy restaurants and five-star hotels and little velvet boxes in the world because it came from you, not because it has any value to anyone else. I would rather wear one of your sweatshirts than any of Colt’s diamonds, and I never want you to doubt that.”
She finally wound down, having said all she needed to say, and Jake’s eyes stayed focused on the little brown oval in her palm. The hush that followed her declaration was calm, and Lexie felt like the air had been cleared in a way she hadn’t realized was necessary.
After what seemed like ages, Jake cleared his throat and lifted his eyes to hers.
“Okay,” he said, nodding, and Lexie smiled.
“Okay,” she repeated. She tucked the penny back into her pocket where it belonged as Jake shifted the car into drive and moved slowly back toward the edge of the highway.
The rest of the trip was quiet, but Lexie didn’t mind. It was a thoughtful kind of silence, and she occasionally looked over to find him smiling as the gears in his head continued to turn. She could almost see him processing, working his way through everything she’d said.
And when she arrived at her desk the next morning, she found a ticket to the Hampton Symphony on her keyboard and a well-worn Cypress Valley Redtails sweatshirt on the back of her chair.