6. River
RIVER
I’m haunted by that kiss.
That fucking axis-tilting kiss.
I tossed and turned all night, wishing like hell Jade was in my bed so I could kiss her all night—in all the places. I wanted—needed—more.
If I had any doubts about the gut instinct that drove me to invite her here, I don’t anymore.
Jade is it.
She’s the reason no other woman ever stuck.
She’s the reason that until now, I never fully understood the term soul mates.
But that kiss rattled her so badly she practically sprinted back to the guest house to get away from me.
All day, I’ve been biting my damn tongue, refusing to bring it up first. I don’t want her to think I hired her for the wrong reasons.
Which only makes it more imperative that I don’t tell her the truth.
If she knew I knew she was a high school history teacher with exactly zero appraisal experience, she’d question my motives.
Which, she should.
Who the fuck falls in love after one three-minute video interview?
Me, that’s who.
But any sane person would run for the fucking hills if they knew that.
Which is why I decided after a couple of awkward hours upstairs sorting through boxes this morning that we needed to get out of the house. The bed of my truck was already packed full of thrift store dropoffs. It seemed as good an excuse as any to break the awkward tension.
After the last box was unloaded, I decided we needed a detour before heading back to the cabin. We picked up some sweet treats at Sugar Moon Bakery, and I drove us north out of town, toward a scenic drive I hoped would take her breath away.
Half an hour later, the view is doing exactly what I hoped.
We sit on the tailgate of my truck, eating mini cupcakes as we take in the beautiful view—one that is transforming from summer green to autumn yellows and oranges.
“This is the view I missed most when I was away,” I admit.
“Away?”
“I haven’t been home in a long time. I spent twenty years in the Marines. When I was overseas, this was the view I always yearned for.”
“You’re from Wildwood?”
“I’m not really from anywhere.” I glance at Jade who has a smudge of frosting on the corner of her mouth.
I resist the urge to swipe it away with my thumb, too afraid the simple gesture will get me into trouble as far as that kiss is concerned.
“I was a military brat, so we moved around all the time. But my grandparents settled in Wildwood. It was my one constant.”
“This place is amazing,” Jade says as Marty rests between us, waiting for handouts. I’m both relieved for the buffer and annoyed at the space.
“The view or the cupcakes?”
“Both.”
“You don’t have this in Indiana?” I ask, knowing the answer.
“No. And our bakery closed down last month. Considering they found roaches in the kitchen, I’m not exactly sad about that one.”
“You’re happy living there?”
“At the moment, no.”
That admission perks me up. Though it makes me semi-hopeful I just might be able to convince her to move here someday, the admission makes me suspicious.
From everything I could find online—admittedly it was a quick search—Ms. Jade Sweeny is passionate not only about the subject matter she teaches but about her students.
“A cupcake for your thoughts?” I offer her another mini cupcake, this one a flavor she hasn’t tried—caramel apple.
“People are just very…quick to jump to conclusions that aren’t fair or even accurate.” She peels the cupcake wrapper, and I take it from her. Our fingertips graze, and I hiss in a breath to hide my reaction.
After the hours of tense awkwardness between us, the last damn thing I want to do is bring it back.
“Sometimes I fantasize about leaving it all behind,” she admits.
“You could move to Wildwood,” I say, pretending to tease despite the seriousness of my words.
“Are there a lot of cabins filled with antiques in these parts?” she asks.
I resist the urge to blow her cover, which is why I don’t mention the teaching position that just came open at the high school if Mrs. Hobbs gossiping at Sugar Moon Bakery can be believed.
She mentioned the current history teacher ran off to Bermuda with her yoga instructor or something equally farfetched.
“Nah, I think Granddad hoarded it all.”
“Why did he have all that stuff?” she asks. “Do you know?”
“My grandma loved going to estate sales. But she tended to sell her finds. When she passed, Granddad couldn’t bring himself to part with a single thing she’d picked out.”
“That’s so sad.”
“He loved her so much, he couldn’t bear to part with a single thing that reminded him of her.”
“I would kill for that kind of love,” Jade murmurs. She probably thinks I don’t catch it, but I do.
I bite back the urge to tell her I could love her with that type of devotion. It’s too damn early to confess what I feel. The best I can do now is hope she’ll start falling before she gets on that plane at the end of the week.
I can work with that.
I will work with that.
Because if there’s one thing that grows more certain by the second, it’s that Jade Sweeny is the one I was always meant to find. And now that she’s here, I’ll do whatever it takes to convince her to stay.