Page 32 of Falling Inn Love
“Sure,” I say, casually smiling, willing the thoughts in my head to stand down.
We walk for a while before I ask, “How far are we going? What’s the difficulty level?”
“That depends,” he replies. “How good are you at hiking?”
“Pretty good, I think. I’ve done a fair number of trails all over. That’s one of the perks of being a wanderer. I get to see a lot of new, beautiful places.”
Evan peers down at my beat-up hiking boots. The once-bright red laces are now more grey. “I believe that,” he surmises. “You should be fine. Only the locals know about this one. Most of the tourists are on the main trails, but I prefer the quieter ones.”
He’s got muscles on muscles all over his body and he hikes with ease. I’m thankful that I’m a big hiker so I can keep up. As I follow behind him, staring at his backside, I wonder when he got all those tattoos and what they mean.
“So, what did you do in the Marines?”
“I was a flight medic. The guy who heads into a crisis situation to get survivors to safety and to the hospital.”
He’s a legit hero. Just hanging out in New Hampshire. Like no big deal. Wow. At least I know that if I fall, he should be able to save me.
“Do you miss it?”
“Every day. I like being back home, but I miss the rush of helping people. I know how to handle medical emergencies, but running a business? My dad was the best at it, but I never really paid attention until it was too late. Now, I have really big shoes to fill.”
“I’m sorry about your dad.”
“Thanks, he was a great guy. You’d have liked him. He was like a giant teddy bear who always made people feel welcome. He had a real gift for being an innkeeper.”
“For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing better than you think.”
He stops and looks at me for a minute and I want to freeze this moment in time. I have never had someone look at me and connect with me on this level. There’s no denying that what we have is special.
“I think you’re a great innkeeper,” I say, leaning in to climb a steep, rocky incline. Evan reaches back to grab my hand. When he pulls me up with one arm, I feel how strong he is. I can hold my own on walks and hikes. This one is fairly hard, though.
When I make it to the top, he leans in and pulls me into his arms. I love when he’s strong but tender like this.
“Thanks. You’d make a great innkeeper, too,” he says, raising his eyebrows.
“Sixty days,” I warn. I find a big rock to plop down on and take a long drink of water.
“I don’t know. You may just lose your heart here,” he teases, dramatically putting his hand to his chest.
“You’re ridiculous, Evan.”
“I know. But admit it, you like me.”
I stare at him for a while then relent. “I’ve already told you, I do like you. But I can’t give you what you want. You deserve more.”
He looks at me for a long time and then says, “How do you know what I want?”
“I guess I don’t know. What do you want?”
“I want to keep the inn, raise a family here, have a wife that loves doing life with me. Have fun times and make great memories. The simple life.” I nod, then he asks me, “What do you want?”
“I want that, too,” I whisper.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he asks as he sits down next to me. “Stay with me.”
“I can’t risk it,” I say quietly. My stomach feels so heavy, like there’s a lead weight in there. “I can’t do it again. I can’t risk it.”
“Risk what?” he asks gently, his eyes searching mine.
