Page 31 of The Forever Formula
“Should I help clear plates?” I said in a sudden spurt of generosity.
Mom winked at me. “Oh no. Logan and I’ve got this. Go ahead and show off your place to Rachel.”
This was how my family had been when they first found out that Rachel and I had a fling going. You wouldn’t expect them to put so many designs on teenagers, but they did. It’s what they do. Marrying us off and securing grandchildren was their first priority.
I wasn’t sure about all that, but I was eager to find out what else might happen with Rachel tonight if I got her alone at my place.
Rachel said her good-byes, and we headed out in my truck. My cabin was close enough to walk, but I wanted my vehicle close by all the same.
As we pulled up to my home, Rachel belted out a shocked laugh. “I thought you said this was a cabin.”
“It is,” I said defensively.
“It’s two stories, and it’s beautiful.”
Proud of my place, I beamed. A lot of work and money had gone into it. Every penny I made working, in fact.
“A place to grow in, I suppose,” I said casually.
“You want a family someday? Kids and all that?” she asked.
I supposed it was the next logical question, but somehow hearing her say it, it gnawed at me.
When I started building the house, I was only nineteen. Rachel had left three years prior, and I’d never forgotten about her. Never gotten over her.
I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t dreamed of having babies with Rachel Tyson. Little green-eyed babies with chestnut-brown hair running around.
But the work took me years, and I had honestly forgotten about the fantasies I’d had when I started it. After a while, I just wanted a place of my own I could feel proud of.
“Maybe someday,” I said.
As we walked inside, I saw my place through her eyes, and I reveled in every compliment she was willing to give me.
“Noah, this is something else,” she said as her gaze darted around.
And it really was. Top-of-the-line chef’s kitchen with concrete counters and natural stone backsplash. Tall, vaulted ceilings with reclaimed distressed beams, hand-blown globe lights I’d hung with old rope, and a fireplace so big you could walk inside it.
She reached over and slapped my arm as she looked around. “This is like something out of a freaking magazine.”
“Thanks.” I smiled contentedly. It felt good knowing Rachel Tyson saw what I’d been able to accomplish since she’d left.
“Let me show you the game room.” I nodded to the spiral stairs.
“There’s a game room?” She gasped and followed me down.
I had a pool table, and a giant leather sectional with a projector screen.
“Wow. Just wow.” She clapped her hands. “Little Noah Hart, all grown up. You know, this would go for a lot of money if you listed it for tourist rentals, or maybe built smaller versions of it to rent out.”
“That’s a good idea.”
She pointed to my acoustic guitar in the corner. “You still play?”
“Sometimes,” I said, remembering that Rachel always seemed so impressed by Austen’s guitar playing. I wasn’t as good back then, and it was something I envied, the attention she seemed to give him over it.
“Can I ask you something?” I blurted, running one hand over the stubble on my jaw.
“Sure.”
