40. Mackenzie #3
I feel the weight of a hand on the back of my waist and know it’s Jake.
From the corner of my eye, I see him set aside the bottle of Red Stripe, then his other arm is around me, too.
I smile when he bends and kisses the side of my neck.
My grandfather is watching and he smiles secretly before he turns to speak to Mrs. O’Neill.
I wonder how long he’s suspected the truth.
He probably knew I was in love before I did.
I turn to Jake. “Thank you,” I say and he smiles. “You all saved the day.”
“No, I saved tomorrow, so I could have you to myself then.” His arms tighten around me and I lean against him as his mouth closes over mine. It’s a good kiss, a sweet hot one, and one that promises a lot more soon.
I can’t wait.
“Big mountain,” I say when we part.
“Maybe the biggest ever,” Jake agrees, his gaze searching mine. “How’d I do?”
“Depends why you did it.” I know this, of course, but I want to hear it.
“You know.”
“I do,” I agree. “But you haven’t said it.”
“Actions speak louder than words?”
“They do, but I want to hear the words too.”
He grins, then frames my face in his hands, bending down so that his gaze bores into mine. “I love you, Mackenzie Rhodes.” Then he bends and kisses me as if he’s never going to stop. I close my eyes and hold on tight, so very, very glad.
We turn together to watch the party, which has continued as if no one has noticed us. I don’t believe that for a minute. Mrs. O’Neill is bringing out even more food. I feel Jake nod toward the party. “How long will this go on?”
“All night. Some of them will still be celebrating in the morning.” Another season over and done. It’s both happy and sad. “It’s our big finish. The seasonal workers will head home, starting Monday. Many of them probably figure they can sleep on the plane.”
“We never have a big finish like this at the greenhouses,” he says and I’m interested that he includes himself in the Cavendish team. “But then, crops finish out gradually for the year, some sooner than others. It kind of winds down with people leaving in groups as soon as August.”
His words remind me of the barrier between us, which must still remain. “But wait,” I say. “How are we actually going to do this? You’re going to be in Toronto and I’ll be here?”
Jake chuckles. “Ah, you’ve only seen the tip of the iceberg.”
“I thought it was a mountain.”
“Maybe it’s both.”
Someone turns on the music, probably Opa, and the dancing begins. I look up at Jake. “Get me out of here, please.”
“Where to?”
“Somewhere you can tell me about icebergs. Your choice.”
“Disneyland.” His eyes are doing that sparkle thing, a sure sign that he’s up to some mischief or other.
I can play along. “Too far.”
“Toronto.”
“Still too far. Somewhere closer.”
He considers this, finishing his Red Stripe, then meets my gaze again. “Port Cavendish.”
I laugh. I can’t help it. That’s where everyone went to park and make out when we were in high school. I never parked at Port Cavendish with anyone. Maybe it’s time to start.
“If we’re going to do it in the car, we’d better take mine.” I step away from him, catching his hand and we walk away from the party.
“Maybe not,” Jake says. “With all these vehicles, it’ll be Tuesday before you get it out of the garage.”
That’s true. Jake’s car it will be.
He’s still acting as if he has a secret. We walk past the many trucks and SUV’s lining the drive from the road to the house, and I stop cold.
“Where’s your car?”
“Right there,” he says and tosses his key fob into the air. He catches it but not before I see that the logo on it is Toyota, not BMW.
“You got rid of your car?”
“I rehomed it.”
I’m so surprised by this that it takes me a minute to absorb what he’s saying. “I thought you and that car were joined forever.”
“Fortunately not.”
“Why would you get rid of it?”
Jake nods solemnly. “Insufficient towing capacity.”
“What?”
“It couldn’t tow a trailer, and I needed to tow a trailer.” His gaze meets mine, his eyes dancing wickedly.
“Why?”
“To move my sailboat, of course.” He says this at me as if it’s self-evident, and thumbs the button on the key fob. The lights flash on the blue pick-up truck right beside us and I hear the doors unlock.
“Nice. And it matches your eyes,” I say and Jake laughs. He opens the passenger door for me and I get in.
He starts the engine and backs out of the drive. I’m checking the back seat, thinking it might be possible for us to get together there. The windows are tinted, which is a bonus.
“So, you bought a boat.”
“I bought a sailboat. The reason I wanted to abduct you today was to take you sailing. Pretty much getting to the end of the season, but we can manage one sail at least. The harbour master says Isobelle should come out of the water by Monday.”
“Isobelle?”
He grins. “Every boat needs a name, and they’re all female. Don’t you like it?”
“I love it.” I do. “That’s why you’re tanned.”
“Yes. It’s also why I’m happier.”
“You’re living on your boat?”
“No. I’m living in my cottage in Port Cavendish, the one I didn’t want to have, the one that had to be completely gutted by McTavish & Daughters and still is a woefully inadequate place to make it up to you for taking so long to get the mountain where it needed to be.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
Jake grins with satisfaction at that. “I was hoping you might.”