Page 25 of Coming Home

“Oh, my goddess, those letters and care packages I’d send. I was such a dork,” she cringed.

Twice a month from the age of ten until she was seventeen, she used different colored gel pens on rainbow-themed paper to write letters to Noah wherever he was stationed. Once a month, she filled a shoebox full of Twix, his favorite candy, Austen Cheddar and Peanut Butter crackers, and a homemade crafting project.

“If you were a dork for sending, then what does that make me? I lived for those letters and care packages. Well, ’til I got in trouble with my commanding officer when some of the loose glitter from an Origami star you’d put in a package got all over my uniform.” He nudged her shoulder with his as they walked across the dew dampened grass toward the teeter-totters.

“I was doing my patriotic duty with that excess glitter. Military uniforms are far too drab.”

“I should have given my CO that defense before he made me do all those pushups for penance.” He stopped at the long plank supported in the middle by a metal fulcrum. Mischief lifted the corners of his lips. “Care to have a go?”

When was the last time she’d teeter-tottered? Besides the metaphorical one that she was on now, between her crush on Noah and rekindling a relationship with Duncan. The one between being Dr. Owens or Dr. Owens’ daughter.

Part of her knew she shouldn’t. She should tell him goodbye and head to her Jeep. That would be the adult thing to do.

“Sure.” Even as she agreed as apprehension reared up in her torso.

He lowered the teeter-totter closest to them and held it waist-level. Tentatively, she grabbed the handle, wrapping her hands around the cool metal. Their gazes twined together as she straddled the seat.

The planes of his chest constricted and expanded with quickened breath. “You secure?” His eyes raked down her.

His sweeping gaze tiptoed down her body, from chest to hips, to her bare legs, and back up. Heat sparked on each part of her where his eyes lingered.

“Yup.” She bit her lip, stifling the sex phone operator quality of her voice.

“Okay.” Letting go, he pivoted and jogged to the other side and settled onto his seat. “Ready?”

“Yep!” she squealed as the teeter-totter blasted into the air.

“Still got it,” he said with laughing smugness.

“Got what?”

“The ability to make you smile.”

And he did. The smile spread on her face like hot syrup on pancakes. No corner of her face was untouched by its sweetness.

“Aren’t we Count Confident?” she teased.

“Yup.” He smirked, pushing off the ground and flying his side into the air.

“Noah!” She closed her eyes, bracing for the thudding impact. Just as the bottoms of her sneakers grazed the grass, she flew back into the air. “Noah!” she squeaked with glee.

“Still got it,” he rumbled with self-satisfaction.

Teetering between the exhilarating sensation of weightlessness and protected falling, happiness fizzed inside her. Each time her wooden seat hurtled toward the ground, she’d gasp but knew he’d never let her hit the bottom.

CHAPTER NINE

“Women, they have minds, and they have souls, as well they have just hearts.”~Louisa May Alcott,Little Women

“Your life is like abadromance novel.” Summer arched a taunting eyebrow.

“I know.” Nat lowered her head to the table cluttered with homemade invitations.

For this week’s takeout and movie date at the Little Red Barn, they skipped the movie to discuss her disastrous romantic entanglements while handcrafting invitations for Elle’s bridal shower.

Summer had settled into her new-found role as party planner to the Perry elite, AKA anyone in the village that would hire her. Between shifts at Cassie’s Corner Café and mommy duty with her son, Liam, her business had exploded. In addition to wedding-related festivities, she agreed to plan the village’s Fall Fest scheduled for the end of September. With no excuse needed to pull out her trusty hot glue gun, Nat volunteered to assist with all crafty needs.

“You could at least get kissed by one of them,” Summer teased, stamping a purple teacup seal on the envelope.

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