Forever Love on Fireweed Island (Island County Book 4) (9 page)

“Funny how that works in a library.” My smile grew. “But it sounded to me like you’d already done that once before.”

“Who told you I stopped by?” he asked, glancing at Val.

“I always protect my sources,” I informed him just as Val waved. “Even if they’re not very good at protecting themselves.”

“Are you sure it’s okay to leave? I just thought it would be nice to walk you over. I can keep myself amused.”

“In the bird section?” I joked.

“Probably not there . . . no.” He slipped his arm around my waist, and his touch sent the same charge through me as Saturday. I wondered if he felt the same thing. I gave him a sideways glance but couldn’t tell.

He led me onto the sidewalk, the sun still out and the temperature still warm.

“How was your Sunday?” he asked as we walked along the sidewalk toward Norma’s.

“Pretty relaxing. I spent the day finishing a book and putting up a post, and all went well until about thirty minutes ago, when I found out my blog had been hacked.”

“Your blog?” he asked. His voice sounded surprised at this bit of information.

“Yeah. I post book reviews and write articles on the publishing industry. It’s a fun outlet for me. Or at least it was.”

“What do you mean
was
?”

“It got obliterated today, and the company that hosts it, took it down until I can get it fixed. I can handle most things that happen on my blog, but there’s no way I’m going to be able to recover everything on my own or repost it myself. I’m gonna have to find someone to help and hire them.”

“Today’s your lucky day.”

I slowed to a stop and noticed he kept his arms around my waist even though he managed to turn to look at me.

“How so?”

“I know a thing or two about web design and blog hosting.”

A flurry of excitement ran through me.

“Are you serious? You live in a tent and you’re an IT guy?”

His laughter filled the air with a joyous melody, and I couldn’t stop noticing how sexy he was when he laughed.

Or maybe the sexiness was because he could possibly piece my world back together and save me.

For the third time.

“So what did customer service say when you called?” he asked. Jake guided me toward a bench, and we took a seat before I began. I had to get my head around the fact that I might have run into the most perfect male being ever to be created, and I wasn’t going to do a thing about it.

“They apologized and refunded twelve months of hosting fees, but the damage is already done. My site got blown to pieces and redirected to all kinds of gnarly sites. I’m grateful the hosting service took my blog down the moment they noticed so it didn’t get blacklisted in search engines, but they were able to confirm it wasn’t a widespread issue. Whoever hacked it got access through something from my own IP address.”

“Shoot.” He ran his hand along the stubble on his jaw. “That’s going to make it more difficult. First, we have to find out what your security risk is and what file brought in the virus that allowed the opening.”

I groaned. “That sounds horrible.”

“Nah. It won’t be. We’ll get it figured out.”

“You seem awfully confident about that.”

“You know, I think we should skip a dinner out, grab some takeout, and get started right away. It could take hours to fix, possibly days.” His gaze fell to my lips before flashing back to my eyes.

“I couldn’t do that to you,” I said, batting away the excitement of possibly spending the evening with him at my house.

“It’s no big deal. The worst that happens is that I can’t fix it. Besides, it’ll be nice to spend some time with you.”

“Is web design one of the things that you dabble in?” I asked.

“It’s just a tool to get where I want to go.”

“And where is that?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Here and there.”

“You’re so cryptic. No wonder there are so many rumors circulating about you.” I swatted him. The moment my fingers connected with his arm, I felt another charge and quickly dropped my arm, but not before noticing a knowing glint of satisfaction spread across his gaze.

I looked across the street, ignoring how easily I could make him a rebound and be completely satisfied with my decision until I fell for him—because I would fall for him.

“Want teriyaki for dinner?” I asked. “My treat.”

“Sounds good to me, and absolutely not your treat.”

I narrowed my gaze on his as he stood up and reached for my hand.

“You’re used to getting what you want,” I stated.

“Not always.” He grinned and kept my hand in his as we jaywalked across the street to grab dinner and settle in for a night of blog reconstruction. Sounded absolutely unsexy and completely in the friend zone. Just how I thought I wanted it.

We still had a solid couple of hours of sunlight. The sun didn’t go down until around nine, and maybe by then, my blog would even be up and running. Jake pulled into my driveway and put the car in park. He tilted his head and glanced through the windshield at the maple tree in Mrs. Coleville’s yard before turning the engine off.

“See. The tree is way taller than the photo in the paper.” He grinned, turning his attention back to me.

“I suppose.” My hand rested on the door handle, and I looked around Jake’s car. “This is a really nice car. If your tent doesn’t work out this winter, I’d probably just sleep in this. What is it, anyway?”

He laughed and shook his head. “It’s a Volvo XC90.”

My hand glided along the charcoal leather seats, and I scanned the interior, which had touch screen features and wood inlays on the dash.

“I like it, but it doesn’t seem like a car for a farmer.” I chuckled and climbed out of Jake’s SUV.

I stood up and stretched, trying to bat down the tiny bit of nerves settling into my belly at the thought of Jake coming inside.

“I’ll grab the food,” he said, shutting his door.

I nodded and glanced toward the street to see Coco wandering aimlessly in the middle of the road, sniffing pieces of pine needles and whatever else she’d found stuck to the pavement. I glanced over at Mrs. Coleville’s house, and she wasn’t outside. Actually, it didn’t even look like she was home.

“I’ll be right back. Coco’s at it again.”

Before Jake had a chance to respond, I’d jogged over to the street and called Coco, who acted as if she didn’t hear me. I spotted a car barreling in our direction, and my pulse spiked.

“Coco, come,” I commanded, only to see the back end of her continue to move in the opposite direction. The car was coming at a high rate of speed, even though the speed limit was supposed to be no more than twenty-five miles an hour. “Coco, come.”

She turned and looked at me, and I swore I saw a smirk underneath her glossy fur before she turned back around and stared straight ahead at the car coming toward us. It would only take one wrong move, and Coco would be flat as a pancake.

I waved my hands to get the driver to slow down, but it almost looked like my gesture made them speed up. In fact, I was sure that was what happened. The driver had to have seen me, but probably not Coco.

“Come.” I tried one more time, my heart rate beating recklessly in my chest at the thought of Coco getting run over. I glanced at the car and back at Coco, who had no intentions of stopping. “Coco, come. Now.”

Coco was only a couple of feet away, tail wagging, wandering ahead, and the car only seconds from us. I knew what I had to do. There was no time to waste.

I lunged at Coco, grabbed her, and wrestled the fur ball into my arms as the car sped by, narrowly missing us with not even a second to spare.

I’d saved Coco.

Again.

My head spun in an endless loop of almost having to scrape Coco from the pavement right when Jake threw us all to the ground. It wasn’t until he was on top of us that I even realized a motorcycle had been right behind the car and would have taken us out.

We lay on the concrete, Jake’s arms somehow cradling me like an iron fortress, as Coco managed to stay unharmed and ready for the next adventure. Her head popped out between the crook of my elbow with her body sprawled next to my side with steady, easy breaths. She didn’t even seem to be the slightest bit terrified.

I, however, was ready to call it quits. My heart rate wildly drummed in my chest, and my breathing was uncontrollable. The way Jake’s body wrapped around mine took most of the fall from our tumble, but he didn’t seem dazed.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his warm breath skating over my scalp as he held me tightly.

I nodded, my head still pressing against his chest with Coco squirming to get free.

“I’m afraid to let go.”

“Of me or the dog?” His voice was gravelly and low.

“Both,” I breathed. Even though we were still on the side of a road, I felt safe in his arms.

“Let’s get you up.” He brushed his hand along my cheek, and every part of me responded to his touch in a way I’d long since dismissed.

Jake looped his arm around Coco and slid the little beast away from me. He slowly brought me upright.

I sat in a daze as he kneeled next to me with Coco tucked in his arms, and I knew this man was completely irresistible.

“I didn’t even see the motorcycle.”

“I gathered that.” A smile teased his lips. “I’m not sure if it’s you or Coco who has the death wish.”

“Definitely Coco,” I assured him, still clutching his hand. “I actually like this little thing called life, even though my part in it is pretty small.”

His eyes glinted with curiosity, and he narrowed his gaze on me. “How do you figure?”

“I’m like a little ant in the scheme of things. Granted, I’ll make my little anthill super cute, and I’ll fill it with lots of friends and books, but it’s not like I’ll make a footprint that anyone will notice.”

“I think you’re wrong about that,” he said, shaking his head and pulling me across the street. “Let’s get Coco back to Mrs. Coleville and get to dinner before it’s cold.”

“I don’t think she’s home. She has a busier social life than I do.” I grinned as Jake tapped on her front door.

A minute passed by, and I glanced at Jake. “See? I’ll email Mrs. Coleville, and I’ll take the troublemaker home with me.”

“You’re braver than I am,” he teased, handing Coco over so he could go get our bags of takeout.

“Doubt that.” I chuckled, securing Coco under my arm.

I headed to my front door and snuck a peek at Jake as he picked up the plastic bags off the hood of the car. If he’d gotten to Coco and me even a fraction of a second later, tonight would have turned out quite differently. A shiver shot through me as I unlocked my front door and pushed it open.

A pink bra dangled from the banister, which I quickly snatched off the railing. I glanced behind me to make sure Jake didn’t see. I’d forgotten I took it off last night on the way to bed. I was so easily distracted.

I scanned the area for a quick place to hide it and tucked it behind some books on a small bookshelf I had in the entryway . . . all safe.

“The food is still warm,” Jake said, coming through the doorway holding the food and my purse that I’d somehow managed to forget I owned.

He stopped and looked around, studying the space like he was at the Louvre. I shut the door behind him and placed Coco on the floor. She scurried off toward the living room.

I’d had a lot of fun making this place my own. Between choosing the Billowy Breeze paint color—which was a perfect shade of blue—or recruiting Sophie to help find the exact rug or pillow I imagined for the space, I’d had a blast creating a space that was completely me.

After the divorce, I’d had just enough money for a down payment, and it made sense to buy rather than rent, since I had no plans to leave Fireweed.

Ever.

“I don’t think I could imagine a better place for you.” Jake grinned, and a shot of happiness ran through me. When I’d been married to Rich, everything I chose was always vetoed and every project I finished was laughed at. It was refreshing to hear a compliment from a man about . . . well, anything.

I glanced around and admired my handiwork. The entry was pretty cute, if I did say so myself. I’d placed a couple of blue-and-white-striped pillows on a small bench next to the bookshelf, and Sophie found a nautical themed chandelier, sea glass included, that hung above us. The wood floors had been refinished in an espresso brown by the previous owners. A ton of built-in shelving in every room displayed my ever-growing collection of books, and I honestly couldn’t think of a better place to call home.

 “Thanks. I really love it.” I motioned toward the dining room, which was on one side of the foyer. The living room, where Coco trundled off to, was on the other. “Follow me. We’ll put our food on plates and at least pretend we’re civilized.”

His smile widened, and he nodded as I led him through the dining room, which led directly into the kitchen. The built-in hutch in the dining room was stuffed with books instead of plates and glassware. I wondered if he noticed. Did I look like someone who never left the confines of my house?

“Great kitchen.” Jake set the bags on the small island on wheels I’d bought when I’d last been in Seattle. It added the last little bit of space I needed.