Chapter 23
By the time the fair wrapped up, the sun was going down over the mountainside. Volunteers milled around, packing up displays, folding tables, and rolling carts of leftover supplies. The chaos of the day was dying down, and the last few families were drifting toward the exit with tired kids in tow.
I helped Macey stack the giant toothbrushes into a crate, then helped Shelby and Devin collect the last of the pamphlets. My body felt pleasantly worn out, and for once, I didn’t mind it. I’d actually enjoyed the fair more than I thought I would.
Across the tent, Erica, Jenn, and Jay were breaking down the screening station.
Our earlier conversation came back to me.
“You’re insufferable.”
“I know.”
I forced myself to look away.
Macey gestured to the last supply box. “I can take this in my car and just bring it to work on Monday.”
“Thanks, Macey.”
People were starting to say their goodbyes, calling out, “Great job today!” and “See you Monday!”
That was my cue.
I slung my purse over my shoulder and started across the grass toward where I’d parked earlier.
A few cars down from mine, I noticed Jay’s truck, and with a small glance behind me, I saw he was about twenty paces behind me.
A shiver went down my spine, and I quickly faced forward again.
We were headed to the same place—the same house.
I was going to be living in his home. Okay, his accessory apartment. But still.
I took a breath, trying to ignore his presence behind me, and reached into my pocket for my keys.
“Hope! Wait up!”
Tyler’s voice echoed across the lot, and I turned to find him running toward me. His cheeks were flushed from hauling boxes, and his hair was messier, falling across his forehead. He looked kinda adorable.
“Hey,” I said, shifting my purse to my other shoulder. “What’s up?”
“I didn’t get to say goodbye.” He slowed to a stop in front of me, suddenly sheepish.
“Sorry, I’m exhausted.” I gave him a tired smile. “I should’ve said bye.”
“No worries. It was fun hanging out with you today. I enjoyed it.”
“Yeah, it wasn’t what I expected. It was actually kinda fun to do something different from everyday clinic stuff.”
“Yeah, totally. Um, I was gonna ask you. The other day, when we were talking at work, you said you’d want to maybe hear me play sometime. Were you serious about that?” He gave a small laugh.
“I was serious.” I smiled at him reassuringly.
His whole face lit. “Oh. Okay—cool. Because I got asked to play at this bar downtown next Friday, nothing huge, but I thought it’d be nice to see someone I actually know in the crowd.”
“I’d really like that,” I said honestly. “Just send me the info.”
“I will.” Tyler’s grin grew wider. “And no pressure or anything. Seriously.”
“I’ll come,” I promised.
He started backing away, giving me a little wave. “Alright, I’ll text you. Drive safe, Hope.”
“You too.”
He started toward his car. And that was when I felt that undeniable sensation of someone watching me.
I looked over my shoulder.
Jay was leaning against the side of his black truck, arms crossed, keys dangling from one finger. He wasn’t even pretending. He’d blatantly been watching me. And he’d obviously witnessed my entire conversation with Tyler.
His navy eyes were shadowed in the fading light, but the expression on his face wasn’t at all subtle. I couldn't exactly put a name to it, but I could’ve sworn I’d read it in a few books before.
Brooding? Stormy? A tiny glower maybe?
My eyes narrowed, not backing down from his gaze as I opened my door and slid into the driver’s seat of my car.
“Insufferable,” I muttered as I backed out of my parking spot, headlights sweeping over the gravel lot. As I turned toward the exit, I caught a glimpse of Jay in my rearview mirror.
When I reached the main road, he stayed right behind me. Not too close, not tailgating. Just… there.
I gripped the steering wheel.
Every time I changed lanes, he would follow. When I slowed at a four-way stop, he slowed. When I turned on my blinker, his would flicker immediately too.
It was ridiculous how aware I was of him back there. It shouldn’t have made me feel anything. It was just driving—two separate cars, getting from point A to point B.
You’re imagining things, I told myself.
Yet, when his headlights washed over my bumper again, a shiver fluttered down my spine.
Thankfully, we were almost home, and I turned onto the winding road that cut between the sea of pine trees. The familiar silhouette of my little cabin came into view, a small shape tucked between the trees.
We passed it and something in my heart pulled at me seeing it again. I was surprised how emotionally attached I’d gotten to the decrepit little shack. Maybe I could convince Mason to rebuild it someday. It really was a beautiful location.
A few minutes later, the trees opened up to the walled-off lagoon where Jay’s cabin mansion rested. I turned into his driveway a moment later, parking in front of one of the additional garages. There were like five of them.
I cut the engine. My fingers lingered on the keys for a moment before I forced myself to get out.
Jay parked beside me and was already halfway to my trunk by the time I reached it.
“I’ve got it,” he said, reaching for my suitcases before I could touch them.
“Thanks,” I murmured, stepping back as he lifted them effortlessly. Even the one packed to the brim with literal books didn’t seem to faze him.
He nodded toward the front door. “Come on.”
I followed him up the front steps, the wheels on my suitcases bumping along the wood. When Jay pushed open the double glass doors, a white blur came barreling toward us.
“Hey, Lunita,” Jay laughed.
The fluffy Samoyed skidded to a stop in front of me, tail wagging so hard her whole body wiggled.
I smiled at the adorable creature and crouched down. “Hey there, little marshmallow. Did you miss me?”
“Traitor,” he told the dog affectionately. “You like her too much.”
He grabbed my suitcases and started across the living room toward the other side of his house. I gave Luna one last little scratch before following after him.
“The apartment’s this way,” he said over his shoulder.
A few moments later we came upon a lone wooden door and he opened it, flicking on the stairwell light.
“The garage entrance is here.” He gestured to another door across from the one we just came through.
I was grateful there was a separate entrance so I wouldn’t have to walk through his half of the house every time I came and went.
He started up the stairs, and I climbed after him. When we reached the landing, Jay brushed past me to switch on more lights.
I froze as soon as the room came into full view.
“Oh, wow,” I breathed.
The living room was massive. It had angled ceilings, oak floors, and tall floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the lake. A sectional three times the size of the couch in my brother’s cabin sat in the center, with a glass coffee table and a flatscreen TV on the far wall.
Jay nodded toward the space. “Living room.”
I stepped farther in, and spotted the kitchen tucked neatly along the back wall. It had all stainless steel appliances, marble countertops, a deep sink, and an adorable two-person table under the window.
Jay nudged my suitcase toward a hallway. “Bedroom’s down here.”
I followed and found the bedroom was just as spacious as the living room, with a queen bed centered under a slanted window. There were fresh linens set out, a soft plush rug, and an oak dresser along the wall.
My voice came out barely above a whisper. “Jay, this is too much.”
He didn’t respond. He just set my suitcases down by the closet and continued on his tour.
“Bathroom’s here.” He opened the next door, revealing a massive shower and tub.
“And then the laundry is here, so you don’t have to come down to my side of the house.
” He gestured to a door directly next to the bathroom.
I was still trying to take it all in when we wandered back into the living room again.
He walked past the kitchen and to a set of sliding glass doors I hadn’t noticed before.
“Last thing.”
He pulled it open, and a rush of cool night air swept in. We stepped onto the small balcony, and I couldn't help the little gasp that escaped me.
The private section of the lake he lived on stretched out below us, wide and glimmering under the moonlight. His massive deck and private dock were just below the accessory apartment, and little lanterns dotted the perimeter, illuminating everything and reminding me of fireflies.
“I can’t afford this, Jay,” I said, certain it couldn’t possibly be within my price range. Surely a place like this would be thousands of dollars to rent.
“I’m only asking for eight hundred a month. Can you afford that?”
My jaw dropped. “You’re joking, right? Eight hundred?”
“Take it or leave it,” he said, leaning against the balcony railing and crossing his arms over his chest.
I looked at him, trying to figure out how to respond, but coming up empty. It felt too generous and way too good to be true. I cleared my throat and looked down, unable to meet his gaze directly. Was I really going to do this? Stay in his apartment?
What other choices did I have?
“Thank you. I’ll take it.”
“Great. You can send me the payment by the end of the week, and rent will be due at the beginning of each month.” He pushed off the railing, heading back into the apartment.
I opened my mouth to say more but closed it, unsure how to express my gratitude.
“And Hope.”
I lifted my eyes to him. He’d paused in the doorway.
“Next time you’re in trouble,” he said quietly, “come to me sooner.” He offered the faintest half-smile before turning to leave. Just before the door swung shut, he added over his shoulder:
“Oh, and the keys are in the kitchen drawer.”