Forever Love on Fireweed Island (Island County Book 4) (10 page)

The white kitchen cabinets gave the impression that the space was much larger than it actually was, but the white tile counters and bright blue walls with red accents made the kitchen feel perfectly homey. I loved it.

“Everything was painted bright white when I bought it, and I wanted to liven the room up. Blue is my favorite color, in case you hadn’t noticed.” I motioned at my blue cotton top and white pants. “Sophie helped pick a color that didn’t make the kitchen feel smaller.”

“And Sophie is . . .” Jake asked.

“Oh, sorry. She’s my sister’s best friend. She’s also engaged to Anthony Hill.”

He nodded. “Oh, yeah. Fireweed’s own rock star.”

“That’d be him.” I reached for a couple of plates and felt Jake come up behind me. The energy in the room changed, and I wondered what would happen if I spun around.

Or was it all in my head?

I had a terrible habit of imagining emotions that never existed. I’d see love where none existed and hope where there should be none.

“Anything I can do?” he asked, placing his hands on my shoulders. A small quiver darted through me, and I nearly sank into him, but instead, I nodded and brought myself back to reality.

I was newly divorced, and now was my time to figure out what I wanted in life. I loved my career, my friends, my family, and my home. Maybe that was all I needed in life, but I’d never know if I jumped into one relationship before officially moving on from my last one.

“Glasses are in the cabinet next to us. There’s beer and soda in the fridge or, of course, water from the tap,” I answered.

“What would you like?” He slid his hands up and down my arms, and the friction Jake’s touch caused on my skin was nothing compared to what it did to my insides.

It was like I’d never been touched by a man in my adult life . . . and I suppose, that was somewhat accurate. I’d guess that Rich was more reptilian than homo sapiens.

Was there ever going to come a day when Rich didn’t pop into my head? What if he had ruined me?

I let out a silent groan.

“Water would be great.” I placed the plates on the counter and grabbed some silverware from the drawer. “Oh my God. I almost forgot. I need to text Mrs. Coleville.”

“Go for it. I’ll carry our food into the dining room.”

“Thanks.” I dashed to the entry and pulled my phone out of my purse that Jake had so graciously brought in.

I emailed Mrs. Coleville a quick message and put my phone back in my purse as Jake carried in both plates and water glasses in one trip
.
 

“Wow. I’m impressed,” I said, watching him place everything gracefully on the dining room table. “I’d have dumped it all over the floor if I attempted all that.”

“Practice makes perfect. I used to wait tables in college.”

I made my way over to where he was standing and smiled.

“Did you just willingly divulge information?”

“I guess that is what happened.” He chuckled and pulled out the chair for me. I took a seat and watched him slowly walk to the other side of the table and sit down. He just didn’t seem like a recluse.

“The soap from your mom’s farm is amazing. It smells so wonderful. Please tell her thank you for the extra bars.”

He nodded, grinning. “So tell me about this blog you run.”

“Well, I started one several years ago, and my ex thought it was ridiculous, so I closed it down.”

Grrr. There I went again, pulling Rich into something that had nothing to do with what I needed to say.

“You’re kidding,” he said, his brows furrowing. “Why would he care?”

“That’s kind of how our relationship went . . . but enough about him and that whole mess. I don’t know why I always find the need to tell you everything I disliked about the guy.” I grinned and poked a piece of broccoli with my fork.

“Divorce sucks.” He took a sip of water, his eyes steadied on mine. “It takes a while to go through the withdrawals.”

“You’ve been through it?” I asked, my brow arching.

“Yup, and I plan on never going through it again.”

“I’d say that’s a mighty fine goal.”

He laughed, and I relaxed slightly with the realization that this dinner really did fall into the friend zone. No one in their right mind would begin discussing ex-spouses and divorce on a first date.

“Is that why you moved to Fireweed?” I asked.

“I’m not completely sure what brought me here.” He took a bite of chicken and glanced out the front window overlooking my garden. “But I’m glad that whatever it was landed me in your dining room.”

“You just like the excitement Coco has added to your life.”

“That could very well be the case, but something tells me I’d like hanging around Fireweed’s own librarian even without Coco.” There was no doubt about it. His smile was dazzling, and so was he. Everything about him was a scrumptious combination of the men I’d read about and loved. “You’re intriguing and I think—” He stopped himself, and I’d say if eyes could smile, his were beaming.

“What?”

“I think I know why I was meant to come to Fireweed.”

Shake it off.

He probably didn’t mean exactly what I wanted him to mean.

Jake was sitting on the couch with the laptop, and I’d made myself at home in the armchair across from him. Coco curled into his side as he continued to work on my blog, and it was impossible not to fall a little bit for those two.

“I’ve got a
Steamy Sunday
post set to go live, and the following Monday is a cover reveal.” His eyes narrowed at the screen and he whistled. “Now that’s a cover.”

My heart stalled. I rarely ever participated in cover reveals, but I thought this would be a fun one to share with my readers. Besides the obvious romantic appeal, the setting was gorgeous, and it made me think of adventure, and lately, I’d been intrigued with the idea. I just hadn’t counted on a man who could very well model for one of these covers to be staring at it while I attempted to act disinterested.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I joked. “I don’t have any reveals set up.”

“So this shirtless guy crept onto your blog without your knowledge? Part of the hack?” His brow arched, but his expression remained blank. “I’ll just delete it.”

“Don’t do that. Maybe it will bring a little more traffic to my blog,” I offered, feigning innocence.

Jake’s eyes locked on mine, and a smile crept along his lips.

“As long as you’re sure you want to keep it.”

I nodded, smiling, and looked out the window. It was so easy hanging out with Jake, and that was a tad disconcerting.

“So you said your husband didn’t like Island Reads?” Jake asked out of the blue.

I’d kind of thought we’d put talk of the exes behind us.

“He didn’t care for anything that I did. He hated that I worked, but he hated that I came home and read even more. He didn’t like me to have much of a hobby in general. I think he liked it best if I watched him at all times and catered to him. Not that he was around much to cater to in the first place, but it’s all in the past and I’m totally over it now. Can you tell?” I teased.

“Why in the world would someone care if you read or not?” He shook his head. “I love to read. I haven’t had as much time as I’d like to devote to it lately, but I still manage to sneak in a couple of books per week.”

“A couple of books?”

Dream man.

“They’re not necessarily fiction, but some are.” He looked at the screen and smiled.

“What?” I asked, crossing my arms.

Hopefully, he didn’t come across tomorrow’s Teaser Tuesday post. I’d happened to come across a couple of great sentences that may or may not describe a certain way a woman should be kissed.

“Interesting passage. I might need to switch up my genre preference.” I swore, he nearly growled those words.

“I doubt you could handle the heat.”

“Practice makes perfect.” His eyes focused back on the screen, but the corners of his mouth tipped up.

“Well, if you look at last Tuesday’s snippet, you’d see I love all genres. There were a couple of sentences about this guy rock climbing that would knock your socks off. His words made me feel like I was literally hugging the face of a boulder with my own fingers. It was almost impossible to pick out only a couple of sentences to share. I wanted to post the entire passage. I still get chills from what I read. It wasn’t actually a book that I quoted. It was from his blog.”

His eyes darted to mine, and I saw a glint of misplaced amusement.

“If you’re into nonfiction, you might like him. Although, he writes his nonfiction as if it were poetry . . . I mean, his imagery is something I’ve never read before, and he manages to tap all the senses, so by the time you finish, you think you’ve lived a million lives. You might be into more cut-and-dried material. I can tell you that, for someone like me, who is completely not a badass, I love getting to live vicariously through his words.”

“You are a complete badass.” He crossed his foot over his leg and readjusted the laptop.

“Librarian by day and blogger by night . . . I’m completely living on the edge.” I laughed softly. “Thank you, but I know my limits, and I’m completely satisfied with where my life sits. I don’t need to jump out of an airplane to know I’m alive. All I have to do is pinch myself to remember right where I am.”

I wasn’t being completely honest because there was this teensy-weensy part of me that wondered what it would be like to jump off a cliff with only a parachute to carry me to safety, or fall backward with my eyes closed as a bungee cord snapped me back from death. The idea of having no control sounded freeing, but it also made every single muscle in my body go limp with fear, so I knew I’d stick to reading about walking a tightrope three hundred feet up.

“So who is this guy?” He’d stopped typing and kept his gaze on mine as if I’d struck a nerve. Was he sensing competition?

“Just a blogger who documents his experiences or adventures . . . or whatever you’d call them. I have no idea who he is beyond his blog.”

“I don’t believe it.” Jake’s lip curled slightly as he turned his attention back to my blog.

“Why would I lie about something like that? I have no idea who he is.”

“But you follow his blog?”

“Religiously,” I confessed. “And I might have bought two of his books.”

“What’s his name?” He continued typing away.

“I don’t want to tell you any longer. I think you might look him up.”

“I thought you said I might be interested in what the guy had to say.”

“I changed my mind.” I stood up. “Would you like some coffee?”

“It’s not like I’d reach out to the guy and tell him that you have a crush on him.” He ignored my question.

“Well, I’d hope not . . . considering we’re how old?” My brow arched as I stared at him.

“I’m just curious what it takes to get your attention.”

His statement stunned me into momentary silence.

“I do not have a crush on the guy, but why would you care?”

“I think you know.”

An unexpected warmth filled my body, and I glanced toward the foyer.

“His name is Walter King. His first book hit all the bestseller lists, and he’s a really nice guy.” I turned on my heels, wishing I hadn’t revealed a thing, and went to make some coffee.

“How do you know he’s a nice guy?” he called after me.

“I’ve contacted him a few times, and he’s always answered my emails and messages, except when I asked if he’ll come to the library. Then he clams up.” I cringed as I listened to the silence surround me.

I hadn’t told a soul that I’d messaged with BlznBookie beyond our blogging interaction, and here I was telling Jake that not only had I messaged him, I’d asked to meet him in a roundabout way. My entire existence was reeking of desperation as I thought about the picture I painted of myself. I knew my life was full of friends, family, and good times all around, but if an outsider was to go off of what I’d just explained, things weren’t looking good.

I scooped the coffee grounds into the basket and poured in the water.

Let’s see. Jake probably thought I was a scaredy-cat librarian who preferred men who didn’t actually talk back and delivered no emotional mess whatsoever. Top it off with the fact that I enjoyed stalking a writer-adventurer from the comforts and confines of my own home, and I was sure I sounded like the perfect catch for any sane man to sink his teeth into.

I chuckled to myself and glanced around my kitchen, loving every second of where my life had finally landed me. Tugging down the window blinds, I let out a sigh, which almost turned to a scream when Jake wandered into the kitchen without a sound.

“I didn’t know eyes could do that.” He laughed. “I didn’t mean to freak you out, but you weren’t answering, so I got worried.” His smile extended along his lips and I blushed, realizing I probably gave him the deer-in-headlights expression, which was never a good look on me. My eyes were already rather large, so any opportunity for them to bug out wasn’t necessarily in my best interest.

“I didn’t even hear you.” I wrangled two coffee mugs off the stand and set them by the coffee pot. “I must have been in my own world.”