Page 39 of 40 and (Tired of) Faking It
“Although you’re certainly kissing quite soon after dumping your latest girlfriend,” Linc pointed out.
Carter gave Linc a warning glance before pinning JD once more. “We need to know that you’ve considered the outcome if this woman gets pissed over this. What happens when you stop sleeping with her?”
JD jolted as the answer popped into his head: he didn’t know if he would stop sleeping with her. Or when. He only knew he didn’t want to.
This time it was JD who sighed. “I’ve got some things to think about, guys. But I can guarantee you, Lily is not the kind of woman to want revenge.” Hell, she hadn’t sought revenge against the man who’d tried to ruin her reputation in the town she loved; she certainly wasn’t going to pull something on JD if they parted amicably. And he had no intention of not parting amicably. “I’ve gotten to know her, and I can give you that promise.”
“Fuck promises.” Linc grinned. “Yeah, I’m concerned about the resort. But if you’ve known her a week and she’s already got you tied in knots like this, I say good for her. Maybe you’ll find something to be happier about than blueprints and buildings.”
Carter looked skeptical, but he didn’t argue. JD knew he’d hear about it later, though.
For now, he needed some damn sleep.
Chapter Eighteen
She’d never been so glad for a weekend to come. The office had quieted down after lunch, and Lily had gone home early to lick her wounds—or damaged ego. But without seeing JD like she’d thought she would, her sanctuary felt empty. Not wanting to see her girlfriends, she’d turned off all the lights, gotten into her pajamas, and spent the evening flipping uselessly from movie to movie until she’d slunk off to bed.
She was determined not to continue the pity party through Saturday morning, so she’d loaded up her travel mug with coffee and headed for Easton Cove.
Papa met her at the door, his own coffee in hand.
“Two visits in one week, punkin’?”
“I missed you.”
The truth. She’d needed his comfort after the shitty day she’d had yesterday.
Without a word he led her into the kitchen to refill his cup. She’d spent so many mornings in this kitchen, absorbing the peace that seemed baked into the cedar-lined walls and hardwood floors. Staring out into the backyard or sitting on the porch listening to the babble of the water as the creek flowed behind the house. Today, though, none of that appealed. Her heart felt heavy, and she was very much afraid that was due as much to JD’s absence as it was to the situation in town.
After long moments of silence, Papa finally asked, back turned to her, “What brings you out so early this morning?”
The words opened something locked deep inside her, and the next thing she knew, the tears came. Sometimes a girl just needed a cry. Her grandfather didn’t say a word, simply walked over, set his mug on the counter, and drew her into his arms. The familiar scent of laundry detergent and his musky aftershave enveloped her, and for the first time since she’d left JD’s house, she felt grounded. The earth stopped shaking beneath her; all her strength didn’t have to be focused on keeping herself upright. She sagged against him and held on tight.
He let her cry until the tears faded out into ragged hiccups. Still without a word, he stepped back, handed her a tissue, and while she mopped up, he transferred his coffee into a travel mug like hers. “Let’s go for a walk.”
Outside the morning was still cool, the grass still damp with dew. Lily walked next to her grandfather’s tall form, drawing strength from his, letting the silence and nature do its thing like it had so many times in her life. They crossed the meadow, where she ran her fingers along the abundant Queen Anne’s lace and the spiky tops of the Indian grass. As they entered the woods, the wind hurried past them to brush through the maple and buckeye and birch trees. The dogwood blossoms swayed, and the crunchy remains of the winter’s leaves rattled on the ground, adding a hint of a dusty scent to the fragrant spring air. Squirrels chattered in the crooks of the branches, and along the ridge, she caught a glimpse of a fox darting among the ragged limestone boulders. Mountain laurel was in bloom, with brown and yellow skippers flitting among their pink and white flowers.
Lily breathed deep. No matter how long she lived in town, this land would always be home. When she was here, something in her settled. Or maybe it was the man that walked beside her and the foundation he’d laid in her life. She always had somewhere to retreat to, and she knew it. Everything else could fall away because it no longer mattered when she was here.
“This place always soothes the soul,” her grandfather said, echoing her thoughts.
“You always know where to take me.”
“Works every time.” He gave her a gently teasing smile.
“It does.” She focused on the path for a moment. “Papa, I don’t know what to do.”
He nodded, keeping quiet as they headed up the mountain. The silence allowed her to finally spill what was bothering her. Well, not all of it; she didn’t get into specifics or name names, but somehow telling him that there was talk in town and people were unhappy about it—and letting her know that—made her feel a little bit lighter.
When she’d finished, there was another long stretch of quiet, only their crunching footsteps breaking into their thoughts. Papa was like that. He didn’t speak until he was ready to, but the lack of words often helped her put her own thoughts into order. It wasn’t until they’d reached the ridge that he found a flat rock overlooking the valley and urged her to sit.
“Punkin’…” He pulled the baseball cap from his head and ran a hand over his thinning white hair. “You spend your days serving others. You love it; I know you do. But the people you serve don’t get to decide whether you’re a good person or not. You can’t find your worth in other people. I think you know that in here”—he tapped his head—“but in your heart, it’s easy to forget sometimes.” His age-gnarled hand dropped over hers on the rock. “Your value is in being a wonderful human being, and only you can recognize that for yourself. Other people see what they want to see.”
“I know that.”
“Do you really?”
Of course she did. She opened her mouth to argue, but the look on his wrinkled face made her stop and consider.
