Page 13 of A Lonely Road
“I would have to pick the car, mostly because I’m actually afraid it’s going to die a dramatic death the next time I hit the highway, but you really don’t owe me anything, Jake. We can just forget about payment and you can accept that I’m perfectly able to handle polite conversation with strangers, even if you haven’t seen much proof of that so far.”
The last part came out sounding rueful instead of snarky, so I simply grinned. “Car it is. I’m off tomorrow, I’ll grab the parts in the morning and be over around noon. Finish your root beer, I’m closing up in ten. Can I convince you to walk home with me? We’re heading in the same direction anyway.”
Ah, there it is,I thought when her jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, but to my surprise, she nodded anyway.
“Okay,” she said softly.
I bit my lip to try to keep my idiotic smile in check. “Okay.”
Chapter Seven
Nora
Hiseyeslituplike a kid on Christmas and my entire traitorous body responded to that flash of joy. It was adorable and aggravating, the way it made my insides flutter, but I couldn’t hold back another smile as he left the table to finish up at the bar.
While I waited, I drank the rest of my soda and reflected on everything that had happened since I arrived in Spruce Hill.
I didn't want to be beholden to anyone, especially not Jake, who’d seen me at my lowest already, but the offer of a place to work in peace was simply too good to pass up. The Mermaid was clean, noisy enough without the chaotic energy of a dive bar—or the constant hassle of drunken frat boys who didn’t like to take no for an answer—and this little corner spot kept me from drawing too much attention to myself.
Last night had been an anomaly, and shockingly, I still felt safe there.
Each time I came in, I completed more work than I would have expectedandconsumed another delicious meal.
Tonight had been another aberration, thanks to Sam’s whirlwind conversation, but I could resist the temptation that was Jake Lincoln, especially if it meant getting my assignments done ahead of schedule. It would be well worth it for the productivity alone.
And if he felt guilty enough about his talkative sister to fix up my car, so be it. I wasn’t so shortsighted as to turn down that offer.
By the time Jake locked the doors of The Mermaid behind us, my nerves had taken that flutter in my belly almost all the way to nausea. We’d walked this same path together last night, but it was different now, wasn’t it?
We’d held hands, hugged as we said goodnight. What if he expected that again?
I had no reason to assume any ulterior motive behind his offer, but that didn’t soothe so many years of caution. There was pepper spray in the front pocket of my bag, if I needed it. I knew how to defend myself—and Jake was well aware of that fact now.
Right. No need to overreact. This man had been nothing but kind so far.
I was sure Jake felt the tension thrumming through me the minute he turned away from the door. Without apparent effort,he set out to soothe me—subtle, intuitive choices that most people wouldn’t even have noticed, but I was hyper-aware of his every movement.
Before we started down the street, he slipped his hands straight into his pockets and my shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, no longer worrying about whether he expected me to hold his hand. Along the widest part of the sidewalk, he stayed a good foot away from me. Once we turned onto our street, we had no choice except to shift closer together, but it seemed like he made sure not to brush against me, even accidentally.
Jake told stories about Sam to lighten the mood. As I laughed, most of my remaining tension evaporated and I found myself actually enjoying his company during the walk. When we reached the end of Mr. Jenkins’ driveway, he kept his hands in his pockets while he nodded to my car.
“You sure must love that hunk of junk,” he said with a grin.
I sighed and patted the little blue car affectionately—or at least, I patted one of the few sections of metal that was still blue instead of ravaged by rust. “She’s my baby,” I replied simply.
“Love conquers all,” he joked. “We’ll get her fixed up right tomorrow. Goodnight, Nora.”
He was already backing away toward his own driveway when I finally said, “Goodnight, Jake.”
Though I wasn’t quite sure how it had happened, I felt lighter, almost buoyant. For the first time since meeting Jake Lincoln, I stopped feeling like Spruce Hill was a mistake andhad to admit that maybe, just maybe, it was the best decision I’d made in years.
Saturdaymorningdawnedbrightand hot, with the forecast promising a scorching summer day. I stood in front of the low dresser in my bedroom as I tried to decide what to wear. Shorts? The thought of standing in close proximity to him in my favorite cutoffs felt a little too dangerous, a little too much like tempting fate. I could wear jeans—and sweat to death standing out there.
I cringed at the thought of Jake having to resuscitate me when I passed out from heat exhaustion, coming to my rescue yet again.
The inner war waged for another three minutes before I swore loudly and colorfully and grabbed a pair of cropped leggings off the pile I’d tossed onto the bed.
“Problem solved,” I muttered.
