Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
I motion to the eagle photo on the wall behind the couch. “They’ll match.”
“That was the idea.” His grin is wide, his eyes sparkling with delight, and the ache in my chest tells me I want to keep him smiling like that forever.
I head to the hall closet, where I keep a storage bin. I retrieve a nail, measuring tape, and a hammer.
“Looks like you’re putting me to work,” he teases, taking the measuring tape from my hand.
Pounding a nail into the wall might seem like a small thing, but I learn a couple of things about Jack in the process. He likes to be accurate, not allowing me to proceed until the two prints line up precisely.
“You are quite a stickler,” I remark once the nail is in.
“Only for these sorts of things.”
He helps me lift and hang the photo. “What sorts of things?”
We stand back and admire it. “I dunno. Art, decor…”
“I never would’ve guessed that about you. Although, come to think of it, your wine bottles were alphabetized and maybe your prints too.”
He chuckles as his eyes drift toward the eagle photo, as if comparing the two or critiquing his work. That’s something I can relate to. “You should’ve seen me when I was in the thick of flipping rental properties. You don’t want to ask me to decide on a color or pattern on the spot. I drove Rocco nuts because—”
“You needed the time to consider all the options and angles?” he finishes for me.
“Exactly.” Something slides into place inside my gut. A certain rightness I can’t quite put my finger on. Maybe it’s that Jack and I are more alike than we thought. Or that we fit pretty well.
I admire the photos a moment more, then press my shoulder against his. “They’re perfect. Thank you again.”
The rosiness deepens on his cheeks. “Sure thing. I mean, you were there to witness both, so…”
I meet his eye. “And I wouldn’t change a thing.”
He clears his throat and averts his eyes. “Neither would I.”
“So…what now?” I ask to lessen the intensity buzzing between us. “Do you want to stay?”
“I would love to.” His voice is throaty as he steps behind me and kisses my nape. I shiver and have the urge to lead him straight to my bed. But considering he drove all this way here, maybe he’d like to be shown around a bit first.
“Are you hungry?”
“I could eat.”
“Wanna head to one of my favorite places for a bite?”
“Sounds good to me.”
26
JACK
It’s surreal being here. I haven’t gone out of my way for another man in forever. But damn, it’s nice to see Aaron and comforting to be in his presence. That’s the first thing I noticed after I arrived—how easy it always seems between us. Plus, when he opened that door, he took my breath away. He’s a beautiful man, and seeing him in his own space, even if it doesn’t fit him perfectly, is gratifying, if a bit overwhelming.
I might regret driving here, if only because my affection for Aaron will certainly grow, but I’ll think about that later. For now, I stepped out of my comfort zone, took a chance, and want to enjoy this night with him.
Once in his car, he drives me downtown, and I can see how different it is compared to Aqua Vista. More people, businesses, choices, anonymity… Just more.
I’m like a fish out of water, though there’s only a couple of hours’ distance between our towns. I look down at my jeans and shirt, feeling out of sorts, which is not like me.
“Stop it,” he says, reading me perfectly. “You look good. I might have to beat them off with a club.”
I laugh, some of my tension dissipating.
When he pulls in front of a parking meter near a plain-looking building, I’m surprised. I was expecting the restaurant to be fancy, but it’s down to earth, lived in, like something I might find on Main Street in Aqua Vista. And I wonder if the choice is purposeful. Maybe he doesn’t think I’d want something fancy. Okay, I’m thinking too hard about this. I need to just take a breath and be present.
We walk inside and are directed to a booth by a friendly host. It’s refreshing that she doesn’t know anything about us.
Once we order drinks and food, we catch up on our lives, things that couldn’t be summed up in texts.
“I’m so glad you and Beth have mended fences,” Aaron says, and I only feel a momentary sting before it settles into peace because I’m glad to have released that anger too. “If you were here longer, I’d have you meet my mom. I mean, if you wanted to. Not that I’m trying to have you meet my family. Sorry, forget I said that.”
Although it makes me panic briefly, I’m also honored he would consider it. But yeah, feels strange. “Well, you’ve met mine.”