Looking back, he was pretty sure going to the same college wouldn’t have changed anything. They had needed different things and she’d grown away from him with her determination to explore a life away from Brookwell. They’d grown apart, but he couldn’t fault her for it. It was part of growing up.
She looked up, her gaze flitting to the ceiling and around the room before returning to his face. “Good grief. Do I owe you another apology?”
“I think we’ve run that circle enough,” he replied.
“Color me relieved.”
“So what really brought you back?”
Her lips firmed along with her voice. “I needed a change.”
Clearly the topic was closed. He respected the boundary. For now. The painful shadows in her eyes concerned him and he couldn’t shake the feeling that she needed to share whatever was bothering her. Once upon a time, they’d known each other well. Understood each other. They’d been too young to appreciate that special connection. Too young to realize it was rare or that it could break, maybe irreparably.
And apparently he was still too young and foolish to accept that what they’d had was gone. Because he was sitting over here full of hope.
Maybe they could start over. Recapture what mattered and have something new and even more special than before.
If she stayed.
Their food arrived and she made the most of the interruption, admiring the presentation, digging into the meal and eventually directing the conversation to him and his work.
He let her have the diversion, for now. He filled her in on how he and his dad split time at the nursery, how he continued to learn from his father’s vast experience.“He likes to stay involved,” she said.
“That’s it. Can’t take the man completely out of the dirt,” he agreed, with great affection. “Dad is the best when it comes to managing stock and working out deals with our suppliers. But Mom doesn’t want him doing too much, yet she insists he needs a hobby.” Nash rolled his eyes. “He’s throwing himself into restoring cars.”
“Oh, my gosh.” Her grin was infectious. “That’s great.”
“Well one old car so far,” he amended.
They talked about more quirky family things, completely neutral topics, until she turned down dessert and suggested they call it a night.
“As blackmail goes, this was a lot more fun than I expected,” she confessed as they walked out into the night air.
The rain had stopped, but the dark streets were still wet. Out over the ocean, the moon and a few scattered stars peeked in and out of the fraying cloud cover.
“The evening doesn’t have to end,” he said. “We could take a walk down to the beach.”
“I don’t know, Nash.” She glanced around. Nerves or cop habits? “I should get home.”
He convinced himself it was reluctance he heard in her voice. “All right. Let me walk you to your car, at least.”
She gave him a stiff nod and started walking away. He tucked his hands in his pockets and matched her pace. “I’ve had fun, Jess.”
“That’s two of us,” she agreed.
Where was the ease they’d enjoyed over dinner? “Are you okay?”
“Of course.”
He didn’t believe her.
“Don’t you have to be up early tomorrow?” she asked.
“Sure,” he admitted. “This time of year the afternoon weather can be unpredictable, so we definitely aim for an early start.”
“You were the one guy who was willing to obey curfew.”
He chuckled. Did she remember the other things? Like how much fun they had when he was cut loose on those rainy days? He suddenly recalled the grief lurking in her eyes when she’d first spotted him at the police station. She’d always been prone to keeping her feelings locked down tight, deep inside. Good or bad, Jess didn’t wear her emotions on her sleeve.