Chapter 28
It was Saturday morning, and the first day all week that Rebecca had not woken early to let Cort in and spend the day with him in the diner.
She still had her own work to do—she was almost finished with the enormous job of cleaning, sorting, and packing up the industrial kitchen.
But Cort was taking the day off—and there were just a few more floorboards left to lay, besides.
He was close to the finish line; they both were.
Pip was sleeping at his place, and he had left work in the afternoon to go pick him up from school, and told Rebecca he’d call her the next day.
It was a strange feeling, to be without Cort.
She pulled a white, blue, and green Fair Isle sweater over her pajamas and gazed out at the view toward the orchard, picking up her phone, then putting it down again.
She wanted to call him, just to say good morning—but he had said he’d call her.
She suddenly felt like a high school girl again—and was relieved when her phone rang and his name appeared on the screen, as if she had summoned him.
“Good morning,” he said, his voice filling her with warmth, even from a distance. “It feels really weird not to be waking up and driving over to your place.”
“It feels strange not to have you here,” Rebecca agreed, wondering if he could feel how hard she was smiling through the phone.
“I was wondering…are you free for a date tonight?”
“Don’t you have Pip?”
“He’s been invited to a sleepover party. I’m on my own.”
Rebecca felt her heart do a small somersault. “What did you have in mind?”
“Dinner?” he said. “Not in town. Somewhere we can actually talk without people taking notes for the town newsletter, for example.”
She laughed. “We’re definitely providing the grist for the rumor mill this week. Should we go to Milltown?”
“I was thinking Evergreen. You mentioned it the other day, and you haven’t been in ages. We can get takeout from Gill’s and bring blankets and have a fire on the beach. I know it gets chilly at night this time of year, but”—he lowered his voice—“I do have ways of keeping you warm.”
She laughed. “That sounds perfect. I’d love to. What time?”
“I’ll pick you up at six.”
It was hours away, an eternity considering the way she was feeling, and she had plenty to keep her busy, but still, it was happening.
Rebecca found herself grinning into the air of the empty apartment after she hung up, and the sense of excitement buoyed her.
She spent the rest of the day in a pleasant haze of productivity, managing to finish clearing out the last of the diner kitchen cupboards.
They were empty and clean, ready for whatever would come next.
She closed their doors without thinking too hard about what that was.
Just stay in the moment, she told herself.
Just for today. You don’t have to analyze everything.
By five thirty, she’d changed clothes three times and settled on a long skirt, ankle boots, and a tank top with a soft burgundy sweater layered on top, a denim jacket folded over her arm for later, when the temperature dropped. She had braided her hair loosely over one shoulder.
Cort arrived precisely at six, wearing dark jeans and a white tank top under a charcoal-and-black flannel that made his gray eyes look almost silver. His hair was damp from a recent shower, and he smelled the way he always did: like sawdust, like cedar, like freshly shampooed hair.
“You look beautiful,” he said simply. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too,” she said honestly. “It’s been barely twenty-four hours and it feels like a week.
” It felt good to be this honest with him, but it also sparked something deep inside that felt almost like fear.
She was letting go, and it felt good in the moment—but also like she was careening toward something.
But again, she forced herself to stay in the moment, to just be where she was.
With him. He kissed her lightly, then led her toward his truck, and she stepped up into the cab.
The drive to Evergreen took twenty minutes, and they talked easily about the progress on the diner, Pip’s latest obsession with paleontology after watching Jurassic World the night before, everything and nothing.
As they talked, Cort’s playlist created a warm, nostalgic backdrop.
Magnetic Fields, Fleet Foxes, Iron it was ecstasy.
It surprised her that she wasn’t getting used to this, not at all. Every time they kissed felt like a first.
When they broke apart, Rebecca felt dizzy with want, so she kissed him again, and again.
Eventually, they were lying down on the blankets.
She could hear the crackle of the fire as they explored each other, his lips on hers, his tongue a delicious swirl inside her mouth, and hers the same.
He slid his hand under her sweater, and even just his hand on her bare waist sent shivers through her body.
She kissed him deeper, put her own hand under his shirt, let her fingers rove up and down his muscled back, pulled him closer even though there was no closer they could possibly be.
She stopped kissing him and stared into his eyes. Even in the darkness, she could see the intensity, feel the want he had for her, too. She shivered again, and he whispered, “The fire’s out. Should we get going?”
She disentangled herself, regretfully. Together, they poured water on the still-glowing coals of the fire until they lost their heat, with puffs of skyward steam.
Then they walked back to his car, Cort carrying the blankets and chairs in one muscled arm and holding her hand firmly with the other.
In the car, once he had turned it on—“The Book of Love” by the Magnetic Fields flowed sexily, lazily through the speakers—they kissed again.
Then he started the truck, turned the heat on low, kept his hand on her thigh as they drove the dark country roads back toward Bramley Hollow.
She felt languid and happy, warm but with that almost-euphoric feeling of having just been cold.
When they pulled up outside the diner, it felt too soon. She didn’t want the night to be over, not yet. Neither of them moved immediately.
“I had a really good time tonight,” Rebecca said, suddenly shy.
“Me, too.” Cort turned to face her fully. “Thank you for saying yes to a date with me.”
“Thank you for asking me out.” She hesitated, but not for long. She leaned over to kiss him, and her desire rushed back. She forced herself to pull away. “You should get home.”
“Pip has a sleepover. I don’t have to—”
She wordlessly grabbed his hand and led him upstairs. It suddenly felt urgent—like, after all these years of waiting, they no longer had any time to waste. Or, she had the fleeting thought as they almost fell through the door kissing, like they didn’t have much time left at all.