Page 62 of Nothing But It All
“Whatever,” I say, laughing too. “But if you want to see something that makes less sense than a dinosaur machine, come by my brand-new office that used to be the guest room and see this scrapbook I’m doing for a lady from Boston. She sent me thirteen feathers, a cigar box of pine needles from somewhere in Arizona, and a piece of what I’m hoping is a balloon—among other things.”
“What?”
“I can’t make this up. People are so weird.”
“That they are.”
We walk along the path, Jack twisting to keep sticker bushes from brushing against my legs. The forest begins to darken. The sunlight streaming through the leaves dims. A heaviness settles into my heart, and I blow out a long, deep breath.
“Hey, Jack?”
“Yeah.”
I force a swallow. “I’m sorry for not asking about the shop and how things are going there. I guess I’ve kind of checked out of your life too.”
His pace slows. “Thanks, Lo.”
I settle against him and sigh.
The cabin comes into view just beyond the top of the incline. Jack plods up the path, through the small backyard, and around the side of the house. We make our way up the stairs with ease.
“That last mile went a whole lot faster with you doing all the work,” I say.
“You always preferred me to do all the work.”
I smack his shoulder, making him chuckle.
“It wasn’t a mile,” he says, squeezing my thighs again. “Maybe a half. Or maybe itwasa mile, and I was distracted with your legs wrapped around me.”
Grinning, I pull the screen door open, and we step inside the living room.
“Home sweet home,” he says as he carries me to the couch.
I slide off his back, soaking in every last bit of contact with his body. Once I’m off, he turns to face me.
He searches my eyes, the deep browns speckled with a host of gold flecks. I hold my breath, unsure if he’s going to smile, kiss me, or switch back to disagreeable Jack.
He leans forward, lowering his head slowly toward mine. I hiccup a quick breath as my heart smacks against my ribs.
“I’m sure you want a shower, but let’s get you on the couch and that foot elevated first, okay?” he says, reaching beside me and grabbing a pillow. “I’ll get you some ice.”
I blow out a breath and release the hope I had inadvertently gathered.
“Okay,” I say, lying on the couch. I prop my foot on the pile of pillows Jack’s put together. “How’s that?”
“Perfect.”
And with that, he heads to the kitchen, leaving me with a throb in my foot and an ache in my chest. Because for the first time in a long time, I think I want to kiss my husband.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
JACK
Irun a hand through my hair and give my reflection a final glance. “Not bad, Reed. Not bad.”
The bathroom is scented with Lauren’s bodywash. She’s used the same brand the entire time I’ve known her, because she remembers her grandmother promising her that if she used it, she wouldn’t get wrinkles.
The thought makes me smile.
