Jesse
Nine.
Ten.
The weights crash against the bar with a heavy thud as I complete the last set of curls.
I collapse against the bench, struggling to catch my breath.
The front of my T-shirt is soaked with sweat, and my muscles are screaming.
I’ve pushed myself too hard, and I’m going to pay for it tomorrow.
It isn’t like me—I know better than to deprive my body of time to recover.
Under normal circumstances, I take at least two rest days a week and rarely hit the gym on weekends.
Then again, nothing has been normal since Marissa came back into town.
I haven’t been able to settle down since I left her house. My insides have been buzzing with nervous energy, and my pacing was starting to agitate Diesel. So, I’m here, desperate for a distraction. Anything to take the edge off. Not that it’s been a success so far.
After yesterday’s unexpected arrival, I was so distracted that I forgot to put on goggles before using the floor sander.
It wasn’t until I was half blinded by dust particles that I even realized my mistake.
I’m lucky it wasn’t anything worse. I need to shake off whatever lingering adolescent crush has taken hold of me and get my head on straight before heading back to the jobsite on Monday.
At this rate, I’ll be lucky not to saw off a finger.
I thought the gym would be the answer. When I’m feeling messed up, working out usually helps. Though I doubt there are enough reps on earth to scrub her from my brain.
I make my way over to the mat, settling into a rigid plank and holding it for a few seconds before starting push-ups.
If I’m going to torture myself, I might as well work on my triceps.
But the moment I lower my body, I have the image of her beneath me, lips parted, hair splayed across the mat.
With a groan, I collapse onto my stomach and squeeze my eyes shut.
Fuck. I need to get a grip.
The problem is that the pull I’m experiencing goes beyond attraction.
It’s not just that Marissa’s beautiful. It’s that even after all these years, I still feel protective over her.
When she started crying, it felt like a gut punch.
The urge to comfort her was so strong that I almost lost control of myself when I reached forward to brush away her tears.
Luckily, my brain caught up in time, reminding me that it’s completely inappropriate to touch a woman, especially a virtual stranger, without permission, no matter how well-intended.
But god, if the sight of it didn’t kill me.
Then again, I’ve never had any willpower when Marissa cries.
It still doesn’t explain why this woman has such a hold on me. We were just kids then, and it’s been decades since I last saw her. Plenty of women have moved through my life since then.
I dated casually after things fell apart with Amber, but never anything serious. Toby and Shelby have been less than subtle in expressing their desire for me to settle down. Probably so I can join them in holy matrimony for a lifetime of double dates. Get a joint Costco membership or some shit.
It’s not that I don’t want a partner. The truth is, I never thought I’d be single at this point in my life.
When I met Amber in college, I thought she was it for me.
She was smart and driven, knew exactly what she wanted out of life.
When she got accepted to medical school at Georgetown, I applied to business school at the University of Maryland, and we got an apartment together.
I was just wrapping up my first year when Dad collapsed in the driveway.
Dead of a pulmonary embolism right before his fiftieth birthday.
I expected to come back home for a few weeks.
A month, tops, just until the dust settled.
But once I was there, the entire situation felt like quicksand.
We postponed jobs Dad had on the books, but we couldn’t push them off forever without losing clients.
I stepped in as foreman on a temporary basis, but we quickly realized that someone had to take over operations management.
Without oversight, we were headed for disaster.
I agreed to stay on until we could hire a replacement. We put out a few feelers, and I expected to be back to my regularly scheduled life. It was devastating, of course, but we would recover.
What I hadn’t counted on was Mom. My parents were high-school sweethearts.
They were each other’s first kiss, first relationship, first everything.
Grew up together. When he died, it was like a part of her died too.
She went catatonic—we couldn’t get her to eat or shower or do much of anything but sit in his chair, staring listlessly out the window. I knew I couldn’t leave her.
So, I extended my stay. Amber was understanding at first. She found a roommate to cover my half of the rent, a classmate from medical school.
Besides, she was busy with exams and rotations.
Between her study schedule and mine, we were already two ships passing in the night, even when we shared the same bed.
We said we’d alternate weekends to visit.
It worked at first, until life got in the way.
Things always seemed to come up: a bridal shower, an emergency home repair project, a test to study for.
Every week became every other week, which became once a month.
I was so busy trying to keep everything afloat that I didn’t notice the daily phone calls had died down too.
Didn’t notice any of it until she called me one afternoon to tell me that she had developed feelings for her roommate.
Hadn’t meant for it to happen, but I wasn’t there, and one thing led to another. Guess that’s how these things go.
The worst part was that I wasn’t nearly as devastated as I thought I’d be.
It was strangely as if the five years we’d spent together never even happened.
Maybe it was because I was too busy picking up the pieces of my own decimated family.
Or maybe, as I realized later, she was never meant to be my future at all.
After a while, I started dating again. But never anything serious, nothing that lasted more than a few months.
What was the point? If shouldering the responsibilities of my family was going to fuck up a relationship, then it was best to avoid the situation altogether.
Keep things casual, curb expectations from the get-go, before anyone gets hurt.
And it’s suited me just fine. For the most part.
I think that’s what’s throwing me about Marissa.
There’s something different about her, something that refuses to be put into a box.
It’s not good—and it’s definitely not professional.
It doesn’t matter, though, because nothing is going to happen between us.
She’s hired me to do a job, and the least I can do is give her the respect she deserves.
Besides, Legacy Builders is my responsibility now, and my life is not the only one depending on its success.
Toby and Shelby have my niece to take care of, and I know they’re thinking about having another kid.
The last thing any of us need is for me to topple everything we’ve built over a childhood crush. I need to get it together.
So, I’m going to be here every day, working out for as long as it takes to get my head on straight. Then I’m going to finish the job she’s paying us for and get out of her hair so she can move on with her life in peace.
It all sounds perfectly reasonable. But somehow, I have a nagging suspicion it will be easier said than done.
After I finish at the gym, I hop back into my truck and check my phone.
There’s an email notification that my requested library loan is now available.
I double-check the time, confirming the library is still open for another thirty minutes.
Fantastic. A new mystery is just what I need to keep my mind from wandering where it shouldn’t.
When I arrive, Holden is standing behind the circulation desk. He’s one of my oldest friends and the branch’s youngest librarian. He’s also a massive pain in the ass.
Spotting me, he lifts his head in greeting, then reaches beneath the counter to retrieve a hardcover novel.
“Connolly’s latest,” he says, grinning broadly when I’m standing in front of him. “I didn’t even put it out yet.”
I nod and reach for the book. But before I can grab hold, Holden slides it backward.
“You seem eager to read. I only emailed you an hour ago. Unless there’s some other reason you need a distraction.”
He’s got a weird expression on his face that’s making me uneasy. Like he knows something he shouldn’t. And I have a sneaking suspicion I know exactly what that something is. I need to get my book and get the hell out of here.
I dart out my hand again to grab it, but Holden slaps his palm down on the plastic-wrapped jacket.
“Thought you’d be busy today.” His lips stretch into a shit-eating grin, and I realize too late that I’ve walked straight into a trap. The walls of the North Pocono Public Library are closing in on me and there’s nowhere to run. How did I not see this coming?
“A little birdie told me you have a new client.”
“Is that so? Did this little birdie happen to have purple hair?”
“It’s violet, actually. Violet is a spectral color, meaning it’s a single wavelength of light found on the visible spectrum, whereas purple—”
“Just give me the damn book,” I grit out.
“So, Marissa Morganstern still gets to you,” he says, unable to mask his delight. “Although I guess she’s Marissa Morgan now? In any case, you’ll have to read this one quickly if you’re going to recommend it. Do you need to borrow some notepaper?”
Jesus. There are two major problems with living in the small town you grew up in. The first is that everyone knows about the embarrassing things you did as a kid. And they’ll never let you live them down.
The second is that it’s impossible to keep a secret, because everyone knows everyone. Around here, hot news spreads like wildfire.
“You’re such an asshole,” I mutter.
He nods. “It’s true. My mom doomed me by choosing the wrong name. She should have picked a fictional character with stronger moral fiber, like Samwise or Jean Valjean.”
Holden’s mom, who loves books even more than I do, began working at this branch after Marissa’s grandmother retired. During summer breaks, Holden and I occasionally hung out here. That’s how I first met Marissa. And just my luck, Holden will never let me forget it.
Satisfied that he’s won the exchange, Holden slides the book across the counter.
“It’s due back in twenty-one days.”
“I’ll return it when I’m finished with it.” I swipe the book from the counter and head toward the exit.
“Twenty-one days!” Holden calls from behind the desk. “Or you will be fined! My duty’s to the law, Jesse!”
I’ll have the book back by the end of the week and we both know it. But it doesn’t stop me from slamming the door shut behind me.