âYour apartment looks like a florist shop,â Bridget says as I move the phone so she can see the current state of the place.
I set another vase of roses on the counter. âOr a funeral.â
âWell, what did you expect?â My friendâs laughter unknots some of the tension Iâve been holding on to ever since I saw Jack at Midnight. âHe isnât the kind of guy to stand by and wait. Jack is going after what he wants. And in this case, thatâs you.â
A groan slips past my lips and Bridget laughs again.
âTalk to him,â she insists. âBefore I have to come drag you out of your apartment under a ton of roses.â
A smile finally pulls at the corner of my lips. âWeâve talked.â
âHeâs talked. Youâre holding back and itâs driving him crazy. And I donât blame you, but if you want it to stop, then talk to him.â
âI donât know what to say yet.â
Heâs making an effort, and Iâmâ¦well, Iâm not sure. We werenât a co uple before, so if we fall back into how things were, where does that leave us?
âYou will,â she says. âEventually, you will.â
Bridget and I hang up and then I snap a picture of my kitchen counter, currently unusable because of all the flowers, and text it to Jack.
Jack Too much?
Me Any more and Iâll have to rent a bigger apartment to store them.
Jack I could arrange that.
I roll my eyes and an incredulous laugh escapes. I would not put it past him.
I put my phone down and pull out my laptop to work on my design for the lake house. Iâve figured out which rooms I want to focus on, but when I checked prices on rental furniture, I had to rethink my plan. Itâs more expensive than I expected. Iâll figure it out, but I feel like Iâm behind already.
I rework things until my eyes are blurry and I canât think anymore. I close my laptop and head into the bedroom. My apartment is nice, but Iâve been so busy I havenât added the usual homey touches that would make it feel like mine. Maybe thatâs why even after a month of being here it still doesnât feel like a place I could stay. Itâs like Iâm on a long work trip.
I miss my friends and baby Charlotte. She started walking last week and I cried when Tyler sent me the video. I canât help but feel like Iâm missing out on things that are so much more important than work.
After washing my face and brushing my teeth, I climb into bed with my phone. I reread Jackâs texts. He texts every day at least once, more if I reply. I still donât know how to feel about everything. Despite not wanting to be here, I feel like I need to prove to myself that Iâm capable of succeeding. And maybe I want to prove it to Tyler, Piper, and everyone else too.
The next day, instead of roses he sends daisies. The card reads, âHope these look less like a funeral.â
God, what an idiot. Iâm grinning though.
The following day Iâm expecting the flowers, more daisies, but thereâs also a small, wrapped gift too. I take them both inside and set the flowers next to the rest then tear open the present. My fingers shake as I run a finger across the earrings. Diamond hoops. Simple, elegant, expensive.
The man is out of his mind. I take one out and hold it up to my ear. Theyâre stunning, but thereâs no way I can accept these. I left the diamond tennis necklace at his house, along with a few other items by accident. When I went to Wildâs that day, I thought Iâd be going back. Iâm glad I donât have the necklace though. Itâd be too sad to see it every day and think of that night.
I text to thank him while kindly informing him I canât accept them, then put the earrings away in a drawer until I see him.
The next day Iâm at the lake house when Lisa stops by. She hands me a cup of coffee. âI thought you might need this.â
âThank you.â We stand in the kitchen together since there isnât any furniture yet.
âI like the wallpaper.â She motions with her head to the dining room. I donât have much in the way of a budget for that room so I thought making the walls a focal point would help.
âThanks. Howâs it going over at your place?â
âI finished the master bedroom today and the en suite bath. Iâm waiting for the painters to finish downstairs. Hopefully I can start down there next week.â
She has the same exhausted look as Iâm wearing. Itâs harder than I thought. The pressure to get it right and what is at stake is a lot.
âI canât wait to see it,â I say honestly. Her design aesthetic is different than mine. She is modern and minimalist. Whereas Iâm more eclectic. She probably fits in better with Heatherâs usual clients, but Iâm hoping that gives me an edge. I can add something new. Though in reality, most of the work is far less open to creative input than that. If I get the job, most of my days are going to be spent helping new homeowners decide between three different options for their custom builds. Still, it would be a great opportunity while getting experience.
My phone pings with a text and I pick it up off the counter.
Jack Are you home?
Me Work. Why?
Jack What time will you be here?
I start to type back, but then pause.
Here. Like as inâ¦oh my god, is he in Briar Lake?
âI have to go,â I say to Lisa.
âEverything okay?â
âYeah.â I smile tentatively. âEverything is fine.
â
I grab my things quickly and close up the house. âSee you in the morning,â I say to her before getting in my car.
My pulse thrums quickly as I make the ten-minute drive. Even though I had guessed as much, seeing him standing in the parking lot of my apartment building still takes me by surprise.
Heâs leaning against the side of his G-Wagon, somehow looking like he belongs here and that he owns the building all at once.
âWhat are you doing here?â I ask, taking in his black athletic pants and gray T-shirt that hugs his chest and biceps.
âYou said not to send any more gifts, so I thought I could take you out to dinner.â
I stare at him slack-jawed. âYou drove two hours to take me to dinner?â
âMhmm.â He moves to the passenger-side door of his SUV and opens it.
Itâs surreal to be back in his vehicle. I realize only after weâre pulling away from the apartment that while he looks divine, Iâm still in my work clothes.
âIâm a mess. Maybe we should just get takeout or something.â
He glances over at me and his gaze goes to my hair. I pulled it back while I was working and stuck a pencil through it.
I pull out the pencil with a sheepish smile and my hair falls.
âYou look great,â he says as he glances back to the road. âWhat are you hungry for?â
My stomach is a bundle of nerves, so very little. I try to think where weâll be as inconspicuous as possible. I doubt he wants to draw attention to the fact heâs here.
âThereâs a cute pizzeria just down the street here on the right.â
He nods as if thatâs settled .
âHowâs work?â
I laugh softly. âWhat are you doing here?â
âI missed you.â
âJackââ I start, but I have no idea what to say. Iâm so glad to see him. It feels like a little piece of home, but I donât know what it means.
âLet me feed you and then we can talk. All right? If you want me to leave and never come backâ ââ
âYouâll listen?â I ask, skeptical.
He just smirks as he pulls into the parking lot. The pizzeria doesnât have a lot of seating; they do more pickup and delivery than dining in, but Jack orders and we sit outside while we wait.
The weather is perfect. Still warm with a hint of fall in the air. The leaves are starting to change, but in a few more weeks itâll be beautiful.
âI canât believe youâre here.â
âIâm starting to get a complex,â he says, leaning back in his chair across from me.
âDonât you have things to do? Practice? Captaining?â
âCaptaining?â He grins. He looks so handsome when he smiles like that, itâs hard not to mimic his expression.
âYeah, itâs how you spend most of your day. Bossing people around, making sure everyone else has what they need and are taken care of.â
He keeps smiling, but it takes on a hint of confusion like he doesnât really see it like that. âWe leave tomorrow afternoon so everyone else is spending time with their loved ones and packing up.â
And heâs here. I donât point that out, but my face warms.
âThat still doesnât explain why youâre here.â
âI missed you.â
I blow out a breath. When he lays it out there so simply it makes my head spin .
âWe should have gone somewhere with alcohol.â
Jack leans forward and his long fingers cover mine. âIâm here because I want to be. I want to see what your life is like here so I can picture you working hard and kicking ass.â
One hand reaches up and fingers the end of my hair. âSo, tell me about your day.â
I let out a shaky breath, but he pulls back and it allows me to think clearer.
âI spent the morning in the office ordering things for clients and tracking down items that are delayed.â
He hangs on to my words like theyâre fascinating, but I know they arenât because I was bored to tears. But he asked for it, so I keep going. âThis afternoon I went out to the lake house Iâm staging.â
âYeah?â His smile widens. âI looked online, but I wasnât sure which one.â
âYou did?â
âYeah. I told you, I want to be able to picture you here.â
âIt isnât listed yet.â I pull out my phone and open the photos I took. I slide my phone across the table to him.
âWow. This is stunning. The views are great,â he says as he flips through all of them twice.
âRight? And you should see it in person. The photos donât do it justice. The entire first floor has a view out onto the water. The living room has these big, floor to ceiling windows, and the dining room opens up onto a little patio. Oh, and the master bedroom has a fireplace and this little nook perfect for a reading chair. I can picture curling up with coffee or a book, occasionally staring out at the water.â
I stop rambling and feel the flush in my cheeks.
âAnyway.â I take my phone back from him. âI still have a lot of work to do. Itâs a really big project for my first one and the stakes are high. I feel like Iâm in over my head. If I failâ¦â I trail off. I donât say it, but he knows.
âWhatâs left to do?â
âStaging and cosmetic touches, which sounds like not a lot, but I want buyers to walk in and feel the homey, lake vibes. I put up wallpaper today in the dining room in lieu of painting and buying artwork. My budget is small for the square footage so Iâm having to prioritize and figure out where to allocate the most money and time. A mistake in one room can wreck the entire design.â
âWhat are you thinking for the living room?â
âYou really want to hear about this?â I ask, arching a brow.
âYeah.â His expression doesnât say otherwise so I keep talking. I lay out my entire plan for him, starting with the living room and then moving on to the other rooms. I explain how I came to each decision and even use the photos on my phone so I can help him visualize.
I realize it actually helps to talk it through like this. He doesnât interrupt, but he nods along when he agrees and even points out a few things I hadnât thought of, like how the biggest impact is going to be when people first walk through the doors. The house has a great view as soon as you step inside, so highlighting that is a great idea. That area wasnât high on my priority list, but I move it up and can immediately picture a few small touches that will accomplish the task, maybe an entry table and a rug, but otherwise, it doesnât need to be over the top. Let their eyes go to the most important thing naturally.
When Iâve finished, I feel more excited than I have in weeks. Itâs gotten dark since weâve sat down. The pizza is gone and I know he needs to get back. I wrap my arms around my stomach to fight off the night chill .
âCome on, letâs get you warm,â he says, standing and holding out his hand to me.
Itâs a thrill holding his hand, just like it was the first time. I lean in close, wrapping my free hand around his bicep and stealing as much warmth as I can. Stealing as much of him as I can.
He opens the passenger door for me and I hesitate, lingering there, not wanting to drop his hand and thinking about kissing him. I think heâs on the same page because his gaze drops to my mouth and then up before he steps away.
I hide my disappointment and get in the car. He drives back to my apartment and parks in front of the building.
âAre you ready for Boston?â I ask, not ready for him to leave.
âYeah. Theyâre tough, but the team is looking good.â
âI know. Iâve been watching,â I admit.
He nods and smiles. âWatching anyone in particular?â
âMy brother,â I say with a smirk.
He smirks right back. âFair enough.â
âThank you for coming tonight. I miss everyone. Even you.â Especially him, but Iâm not ready to admit that to him.
âWe miss you too.â
âDo you want to come up? I can show you my place. It has a real floral vibe currently, but otherwise itâs not bad.â
His boyish grin is full of pride. âI want to, but I should probably get back. One of our minor league guys was moved up for tomorrow and I need to make sure heâs good to go.â
âCaptaining,â I say. I lean across the console and place my fingers on his cheek. Itâs rough with stubble and his gaze darkens.
He chuckles softly. âIâd rather captain you.â
He closes the distance and presses his mouth to mine. Itâs gentler than normal, almost sweet. Before Iâve had enough, I donât think I could ever get enough, he pulls back.
âThanks for dinner.â I reach for the door handle, then on a whim, turn and fling myself at him. I still donât know what we are, but I know that Iâve never been happier to see someone than I was when he showed up today.
I know Iâve caught him by surprise because it takes him a couple of seconds before heâs kissing me back. His hands come up to frame my face and he groans into my mouth. That perfect control of his slips and he kisses me with all the passion and intensity that Iâve missed so much. Iâm dizzy with excitement and a little relief. This feels right. Maybe I donât have the rest figured out, but I know I want this. I want him. Kissing Jack is all the fun of a night on the town and all the warmth of a night in. Itâs thrilling but safe. Heâs home.
Breathless, I pull back.
Jackâs fingers still rest on my face and his voice is gruff as he says, âYouâre welcome.â
We breathe each other in, both of us still panting.
âIâm still giving you back the earrings though.â
A rough chuckle shakes his chest. âIâm a stubborn man, Ev. Iâll just keep giving them back and sending more. Bracelets, necklaces, rings.â
âOkay,â I say quickly before he can get any more ideas. âI got it.â
âGood.â He aims that cocky grin at me.