Page 4 of Wandering Closer

Sherry lingers in the room, taking her time packing up her purse which, for some reason, is now half spilled across the conference table. As the last person walks out with a pat on my shoulder, she finally makes her way over to me.

“Hey Thoren, I am so glad I can finally be a volunteer. How fun that we get to do this together,” she purrs, standing too close for comfort. We went to high school together, but she wanted nothing to do with me then. The awkward, skinny kid wasn’t her type. No, she went after the Jakes, the ones on the football and baseball teams. And my brother, she definitely went after my brother, surely seeing a track to money and fame. Now that I have a good career, and I’ve filled out from my lanky form, I seem to have caught her eye. I have run into her in town quite a few times since then and she’s shown interest, even when I was with Jen. She’s not my type, especially since it’s clear her affection is based on physical and monetary aspects only.

“So glad you can be a part of the team, Sherry. It’s nice to see more of the community involved,” I say, taking a step back to grab my backpack from by the door and clip Shadow’s leash back on. The hint goes over her head as she follows me closely, keeping the space between us at a minimum.

“I heard you were put in charge, and I just felt the time was right.” Her voice grates my nerves as she lets her fingers trail down my arm. “I heard Jen left town. It really is a shame. She should have seen how good she had it.”

That’s my cue. “Yep, well, everything happens for a reason. I need to head home. I’ll see you at the next training exercise.”

I bound away from her and into my truck as fast as I can. Avoiding conversations about Jen has become like a sport, and she left eight months ago. I wish people would drop it already.Putting my truck in drive, I give my best girl a scratch under her chin and head home.

After dinner, I grab Shadow’s running leash and set out to do a couple of miles. My two-car garage is half home gym, half actual parking for my truck. It’s great for lifting and running in the winter, but there is nothing like a quiet run in the evening air the rest of the year. On our way out, I notice lights through the trees at Gary’s old cabin. The rumors were that it finally sold, and it looks like the new owner has moved in. I was enjoying being alone on this street most of the time, what with the Campbells hardly here. I hope they don’t mind Shadow running through the woods when she finds something to chase. None of our cabins have fences, so Shadow roams free frequently, but she knows to not venture too far and always comes back.

We completed a nice six-mile run, the lights still shining from the cabin on our way back. I debate stopping for introductions, but talk myself out of it. It’s dark out and I don’t want to freak out my new neighbor, plus I’m a sweaty mess. I make a mental note to try to catch them later in the week. It’s pretty secluded up where we live, so I should probably know my neighbors for safety, at least.

I trudge back into the house and head straight upstairs to the bathroom, turning on the shower. While the water heats, I stretch out my muscles, trying to release the tension of the day. The meeting went better than expected, and I seem to have a solid team that knows I’m wet behind the ears in this leadership role, yet is supportive anyway. If only Sherry could have kept her mouth shut. It’s been at least a month since Jen’s name has popped up unbidden and I thought a new leaf was being turned.

It’s not that I’m still hung up on her; more so, I’m tired of everyone else being hung up on her leaving me. I went through the anger and depression–even got the t-shirt. The bitterness is what is left haunting me. Bitter that I wasn’t enough to makeher want to stay in this small town. Bitter that while I was busy planning for a future with a nice home, a marriage, and babies, she was busy planning for ‘something more’.

I take a quick shower, then head downstairs to let Shadow out one more time. While she does her business, I lean against my kitchen island, taking in all the work I have done to my cabin. It was run down and in need of serious TLC when I bought it, but I have turned it into my dream home. I stripped this place down to the studs, replaced all the old pipes, and crafted everything for what I thought would be a perfect family home. It’s still my dream home. That dream just looks a little different now. A little lonelier.

Shadow and I trek back upstairs where she beats me into bed, claiming the center like the hog that she is. I give her some good night belly rubs before rolling over and attempting to sleep. My mind drifts to Lily, the gorgeous woman from this morning with sapphire eyes. I haven’t been struck speechless in a long time, but she took my breath away and wiped my brain clean. My cock stirs at the thought of her, but I scold it, willing it to stand down. I roll over again, letting myself drift to sleep where those blue eyes meet me again.

CHAPTER THREE

lily

In the last week, I have scrubbed every square inch of the cabin, including refreshing every piece of furniture. While I have always kept a clean home, that was as far as my maintenance skills extended. Painting my bedroom upstairs was the first time I had painted outside of art class, and I am beyond proud of the results. The fresh coat of pale blue is the exact color of the sky as the sun rises behind the forest early in the morning. The downstairs still needs new paint, but I’m not set on the colors yet, so it will have to wait.

The completed bedroom feels cozy. Inviting. It feels likemine.

While the painting is a step in the right direction, I haven’t started on any updates yet. I’ve never fixed anything in my life, and the thought of messing something up is daunting. My parents were not the ‘do it yourself’ types. If something broke or needed repairs, they called a professional to come fix it.

I want to be an independent woman who can do things for herself. There are online tutorials for everything nowadays; there is no excuse for me to not tackle projects on my own. I want to look around my home and see improvements I havemade, or at the very least, helped with. I just need a little more courage first.

I jumped into working on my next novel instead, since it's a safer project to start. Andrea has sent gentle reminders this week to not fall behind on my writing, so I’m doing my best not to. The problem is, my brain fries every time I open my laptop. I have no motivation, no ideas, no inspiration. Just anger, deleted paragraphs, and empty pages.

That, in turn, has led to hiking explorations in the area. After meeting Park Ranger Thoren last week, I felt more confident in going out in the woods on my own. I dropped a pretty penny at a local outdoor store in town after I left his office and stocked up on hiking boots, a hiking backpack, and everything on his list of must-haves. That is, after I chugged an entire bottle of cold water to cool myself down.

Relationships, and men in general, are not in the cards for me at the moment… or ever. But I would have to be blind to not notice every striking feature that man has. From his golden tanned skin with a perfectly imperfect mess of brown hair cropped short on the sides, to the few day-old beard on his chiseled face and strong chin, and hazel eyes that looked so deeply into mine. His thick thighs that filled out every available inch in his work pants… and here I am, flushing again just thinking about him.

I shake out my thoughts and focus back on the beauty of the world around me. After a night of rain, the trail has an overwhelming scent of earth and pine, wet but alive. Moss-covered trees surround the small walkway while ferns and mushrooms litter the forest floor. I’m sticking with an easy hike this morning, only two miles, so I can try to do some writing before dinner with Michele tonight.

I can’t remember the last time that I went out to dinner with a friend that wasn’t a colleague. I interned all through college,so even then, my friends were co-workers. I’m not sure if I’m a little sad about that, or excited that things are finally changing. I’m only one week into living in this charming town, and I have a dinner date with a real friend.

This is the third hike where I haven’t passed a single other person on the trail, and I love it. The solitude is healing. Freeing. The overwhelming feelings of embarrassment, anger, and failure don’t feel so heavy out here. Unlocking my car, I throw my backpack in the passenger seat and take one more steadying breath. The drive back to the cabin is quick and I immediately head to my little balcony to write. Sports romance is my specialty, which is ironic, since I am the least sporty person around. I decided to try a baseball romance this time around, and set about doing as much research about the game as I can while I flesh out some character ideas.

Time flies as I get a basic outline for the book mapped out. Maybe being isolated out here will be great for my career. Closing my laptop, I head downstairs to shower and get ready for dinner. Michele said the restaurant we are meeting at is a local hangout and nothing fancy, so I throw on a maxi dress with a suede jacket and heeled ankle boots. I keep my makeup at a minimum, just a little liner and mascara. My hair always dries into place. It’s boring and straight, but it saves me time since I wrote a little longer than I was intending.

The town is bustling for a Tuesday night, the streets lined with cars and people milling about. I snag one of the few open spaces and walk a few doors down to the RiverRoots restaurant. Michele is seated at a small booth, waving me down when I enter.

“Hey girl, you made it!” She points to the margarita pitcher on the table. “I may have gotten a little overzealous by ordering a pitcher, but I’ve had a day.”

I slide into the booth across from her, setting my purse down next to me and shrugging off my jacket. “I will never turn down a margarita. Never.” I grab the empty glass in front of me and fill it to the brim with the pink drink. “What flavor is this?”

“Watermelon, so sorry, I should have checked with you first. It just looked so good and refreshing,” she says, taking another sip of hers.

I wave her off before swallowing down half of mine. The mix of tangy and sweet hits my tongue, settling my nerves for this dinner. The restaurant is cute and brimming with people. Long wooden beams adorned with string lights run across the ceiling, and the walls are plastered with photos of the mountain peaks and woods. “That is incredible. Tell me about your day. What’s going on?”

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