by Emmy Eugene
“All right,” he said, feeling more confident with every moment that passed where Jenna stayed. “Let’s eat.” In the flurry of getting out plates and napkins and silverware, Seth calmed even further.
He sat down with Jenna, who served herself a bunch of white rice and that spicy general’s chicken she loved.
“So, Seth,” she said, spearing a piece of protein. “I know you’ve been married before. Tell me what happened.”
Seth nearly choked on the cashew chicken he’d already put in his mouth. He searched her face, realizing that tonight marked the moment when they moved past fun, flirty, late-night texting sessions and into something real.
And he wanted to go there with Jenna. He did. So he opened his mouth and said, “Wendy couldn’t have children. It drove us apart instead of bringing us together.” He speared a piece of chicken. “What about you?”
Chapter Eight
Jenna suddenly couldn’t swallow. Wendy couldn’t have children. It drove us apart instead of bringing us closer together.
What about you?
What about you?
What about you?
Her vision tunneled, and she knew how she should answer. She simply didn’t want to say the words. She couldn’t swallow, so eating was out. And breathing only happened because it was involuntary.
She wanted to run. Find somewhere quiet to scream out her frustrations. And to think, she thought she’d moved past her own insecurities about her infertility.
“Jenna?” Seth’s hand covered hers, and Jenna glanced up as if looking for a waiter. But there was no one here to help her.
“Same with me and Marcus,” she managed to choke out. “Excuse me.” She stood abruptly, but Seth was as fast as her.
“Hey,” he said, blocking her escape from the kitchen. “Wait.” He took her by the shoulders, and everything inside Jenna seemed to fissure and break, sealing itself back together just as quickly.
She couldn’t look at him. Isaac had been right—she was a fool to think she could have a meaningful relationship with any of these Johnson brothers. And she didn’t want just any of them. She wanted Seth.
“Jenna, baby,” he said slowly. “Are you saying you can’t have kids?”
She nodded, sniffling now because her stupid body couldn’t control itself. Why did her heart get to lead when the situation got too complicated?
Seth drew her right into his chest and he was warm and strong, his arms easily enfolding her and holding her tight. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered.
“I’m fine,” she whispered, the biggest lie on the planet.
“Anyone with eyes can see that’s not true,” he said. “Do you think I’m blind?”
She half-laughed and half-sobbed, clutching him so he couldn’t step back and look at her face. What a mess this date had become, and they hadn’t even finished dinner yet. Jenna gained control of her emotions, and she didn’t want him to think she was falling apart over this.
“Sorry,” she said, stepping back and wiping her face. “I’ll be right back.”
Seth let her go this time, and Jenna made a quick escape to the bathroom around the corner. Blotchy red spots covered her face, and she sighed as she looked at the smear of mascara around her left eye.
A hot shower sounded nice, along with a cup of soothing green tea and a crackling fire. She thought of how Seth would point out how insufferably hot those things would be, and she smiled at her reflection.
“Maybe he’s different,” she whispered to herself, almost turning the sentence into a prayer. Please let him be different.
She turned on the water and let the cold water flow over her hands. Drawing in a shaky breath, she blew it out steadily. After fixing her makeup and admitting defeat to the blotchy patches, she left the bathroom.
Her stomach clenched around the food she’d already eaten, and she didn’t have to go all the way into the kitchen to find Seth. He appeared in the doorway and held out a bag of chocolate-covered pretzels. “Let’s take the rest of our food outside. Okay?”
She took the salty and sweet snacks, her heart expanding three sizes for this good man. “All right,” she agreed.
He flashed her a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, which broadcast his apprehension. He probably just didn’t know what to say, and Jenna understood that. He still reached for her hand, and Jenna laced her fingers through his, grateful she hadn’t allowed herself to run away.
“Sorry,” she said again. “I don’t—sometimes I just get a little emotional over random things.”
“Jenna,” he said quietly, taking her through the kitchen slowly. “You don’t need to apologize. And this isn’t a random thing.” He was right, but Jenna didn’t know what to say. “Come on, guys,” he said to the dogs, and she let them go in front of her.
Seth held the back door open, his gaze devouring her. Jenna paused in his personal space. “Did you want kids?”
“Sure,” he said. “But it wasn’t as personal to me as it was Wendy.”
Jenna cocked her head, trying to hear something between the words. “Would you have stayed with her?”
“Yes,” he whispered. “She was the one I loved. Kids are just a bonus.”
She stepped past him and went outside, needing more oxygen than she currently had. She didn’t have the words to explain to Seth how broken she felt. Most women wanted to have children; that was how they found their true selves, their inner joy. For some, they didn’t even have to try to get pregnant, and Jenna felt…inferior to them. Like a reject. Not worthy.
She sighed, her anger at her infertility something she’d worked hard to bury in her past. Why she’d picked up the shovel to unearth all these feelings again, she wasn’t sure. It was as if the tool was just right there in her hand, and she’d started digging.
Seth’s hand landed lightly on her back, and she turned toward him. “I can’t pretend to know how you feel,” he said. “But not having kids isn’t the end of the world for me.”
Appreciation for him flowed through her, and she smiled. “I didn’t mean to ruin dinner.”
“You didn’t ruin anything, unless Dodger found where I put our Chinese food.” He grinned at her and led her around the corner of the house. All three of his dogs had found a spot directly in front of the inflated loveseat, and he guided her to it too. “You sit here.”
She did, feeling like a queen, and Seth handed her the plate of food she hadn’t finished yet. He picked up his and sat down too, bobbling her a little bit. A giggle came out of her mouth, and the next thing she knew, she was laughing uncontrollably.
Seth joined in, and she managed to quiet a little bit when their eyes met. He was full of life and joy, and Jenna really liked being with him. Probably too much.
She sobered and said, “Thank you, Seth.”
“Not a problem, baby,” he said, and Jenna smiled at him.
“I sort of feel like I’m on a waterbed,” she said, shifting on the loveseat. It wobbled a little, and a slip of happiness moved through her.
“It’s a bit odd, isn’t it?” He twirled some noodles around his fork and took a bite, still semi-chuckling.
Jenna finished eating too, anxious to get rid of her plate and fork so she could cuddle into Seth. That happened soon enough, and he started the movie before lifting his arm and making space for her against his side.
She giggled as she moved, saying, “I think I’m going to make us topple right over.”
“Nah,” he said, tucking her into place against him. “You’re fine.”
He smelled like musky cologne and fresh air, and Jenna took a deep breath. Contentment moved through her, and it was a bit unfamiliar at first. When she realized what she was feeling, she closed her eyes and tightened her grip on Seth’s waist.
“I love this movie,” she said as the first frame appeared on the screen. What she really loved was this whole evening. Seth had managed to make dinner and a movie into the best date Jenna had ever had, and she felt herself falling for hi
m even further.
“I’m glad, sweetheart,” he said softly, pressing his lips to her temple. Sparks flew through her system, and she sighed happily.
I’m out front.
Jenna’s phone flashed on the countertop beside her, and she swiped it into her hand as she stood. Coming, she tapped out before she reached for her purse and headed for the front door.
“Where are you sneaking off to?” Isaac asked, coming down the steps right as she passed.
“I’m not sneaking off,” she said, glancing up from Seth’s text. She shoved her phone in her back pocket. “I have a meeting on Victory Street this morning. I told you about it. I invited you to come, if you’ll remember right.”
She gave him a smile, rolled her eyes when he said, “Oh, right. Pass,” and continued toward the front door.
“You’d like the community garden,” she said, her hand on the doorknob. “It’s only three hours a week.”
Isaac scoffed behind her, his footsteps fading as he went in the opposite direction. “I know what three hours a week looks like with you,” he called. “Have fun. Say hi to Seth for me.”
Her heartbeat pounced against her ribcage, and she said, “I will.” Outside, she practically skipped down the steps and sidewalk to the driveway, where Seth waited in his huge pickup truck. She used the running board to launch herself into the seat on the passenger side.
“Mornin’,” he said.
“Good morning.”
“How’d you sleep?” He flipped the truck into reverse and started backing out.
“Well enough,” she said, because he didn’t need to know she’d tossed and turned for an hour after collapsing into bed. They hadn’t kissed again, but Seth had held her tightly after the movie and he’d said he couldn’t wait to see her again.
Couldn’t wait.
Jenna hadn’t heard words like that in a long time. They felt good and being with Seth felt right in a way she hadn’t experienced in a while.
“What about you?” she asked.
“Oh, I laid awake for a while,” he said. “Kicking myself for not kissing you.” He cut her a look out of the side of his eye, and Jenna’s pulse went nuts.
“Oh.”
He laughed, driving easily with one hand on the wheel and the other in his lap. “And then thinking I should have an agenda for this morning. So I got up and made one of those before I could finally fall asleep.” He yawned. “I’m going to need a nap today, no matter what.”
“You and me both,” she said, though she didn’t feel as tired as he looked. She also didn’t get up before the sun and take care of dozens of animals. Or four thousand acres of crops and fields. She didn’t employ three cowboys or work closely with her brothers.
They talked about where to go to lunch following the meeting during the short drive to town. All too soon, Seth pulled into Ruth Hanvey’s driveway, where several people were entering the house.
“They’re early,” Seth muttered, the first sign of his nerves.
“Don’t worry, Seth,” she said. “They wouldn’t be here if they didn’t want to hear what you have to say.”
He swung his attention to her. “You really think that?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Why else would they be here?”
“To argue?” He smiled, but it wasn’t exactly happy. “You do remember George Hill, don’t you?”
“Oh, George Hill,” she said dismissively. “I’ll take care of him.” She slid out of the truck and met Seth at the front of it. She squeezed his hand quickly and nodded toward the door. “Let’s go.”
The scent of chocolate and banana bread met her nose before they’d reached the steps. A few other neighbors were crossing the grass too, and she and Seth said hello to them and let them go up the steps and through the door first.
When Jenna stepped inside the house, she realized that Ruth had obviously been up since midnight baking. The older woman also stood just inside the door, a platter in her hands.
“Welcome,” she said, beaming at Jenna and Seth. “Cherry tart? The cherries are from my own tree.”
“I never say no to a cherry tart,” Seth said in his charming cowboy voice. He took two, popping one in his mouth right after the other.
“Thank you, Ruth,” Jenna said, her professional smile stuck in place. She surveyed the kitchen, dining room, and living room area. “Looks like we have a good turnout.” At least twenty people had already arrived, and the meeting wasn’t set to start for another ten minutes.
“You’re up front, Jenna,” she said. “I left a spot for you and Seth on the other side of the table.”
“I see it,” Jenna said. She smiled and stepped away from Ruth without taking a tart. She wanted to be hungry for lunch, and Ruth had an assortment of baked goods on the table between where Jenna and Seth would be presenting and all the seats Ruth had set up.
Cookies, and cake, and pie, and bread. Hot coffee. Cold sweet tea. Jenna was surprised by Ruth’s efforts, and she realized the woman wanted the Edible Neighborhood to come to fruition as well. Her hopes lifted, and she nudged Seth.
“This is going to be great,” she whispered.
“You think so?”
“People love Ruth, and she obviously wants this.”
“She’s our biggest supporter,” he said, glancing around. “I don’t see George.”
“Maybe we’ll dodge that bullet,” she said.
Seth picked up a piece of pumpkin chocolate chip bread. “Maybe.”
Jenna poured herself a cup of coffee and turned to chit-chat with the residents of Victory Street. They’d need a lot of their support to get the Edible Neighborhood off the ground, but at least they wouldn’t need their money.
She cast a long look at Seth. Handsome, capable, hard-working, and now super wealthy, Seth Johnson.
A thrill ran through her when she realized he’d been awake last night, thinking about her. Their eyes met, and she lifted her mug to her lips and tried to pay attention to what Dorothy Benson was saying so she wouldn’t do something stupid—like cross the space between her and Seth and kiss him in front of everyone.
His mother stepped up to him, and he bent down to hug her, sweeping a kiss across her cheek too. She pointed to someone near the door, and Seth followed her finger.
Jenna did too, spying George Hill. Her heart dropped to her toes. “Yes,” she said to Dorothy, though she had no idea what the woman had said. “Excuse me.”
She hurried to intercept George and say hello, managing to link her arm through his and get him moving toward the back of the crowd just as Ruth closed the door.
“George,” she said. “Do you still have that bird that can whistle Happy Birthday?”
The older gentleman looked at her, instant recognition lighting his face. “I sure do. He’s been learnin’ a new song.”
“Fascinating,” Jenna said. “Which one?”
“We’re ready to begin,” Ruth said from up front.
“Oh,” Jenna said, smiling at George. “You sit right here, okay? I want to talk to you after the meeting, but Seth needs me.”
George sat, and Jenna knew she’d get an earful about his parrot and what song he was teaching it afterward. But the look of gratitude and wonder on Seth’s face was worth it. She nodded to him as she made her way toward him, and he stood up and cleared his throat.
“Welcome, everyone,” he said, his bass voice carrying easily in the space. “Thanks so much to Ruth Hanvey for opening her house to us, and thanks for coming.” He shuffled his papers, and Jenna arrived.
She took them from him and put them back in the folder. Their eyes met, and something amazing and powerful stormed between them. She nodded toward the crowd and looked out over the people, most of them a generation older than her and Seth. There were a few younger people, and a handful her age, and they’d be the easiest to win over.
“Go on now,” she said to Seth.
He looked at the folder and back to Jenna. Then he faced the crowd and drew a deep breat
h.
Chapter Nine
Seth didn’t really need the papers, and he appreciated Jenna’s support. Not only that, but she knew him well enough to know to take the papers and then tell him to get started.
“Our vision for the Edible Neighborhood hasn’t changed,” he said. “I still have all the maps and plans from our previous meetings.” He nodded to Jenna, who started distributing the copies he’d brought. “The idea, for anyone who is new here, is that the land between the road and the sidewalk will become a community garden. Residents can plant anything they want, and everyone on Victory Street takes care of the resulting garden. You don’t have to stick just to the space in front of your house.”
He took a breath and waited a moment for Jenna to come back to his side. He didn’t look at her though, because his feelings for her were all over the place, and he didn’t want to give away too much. Not to her, and not to his mother, who sat near the front of the group.
“The same goes for harvesting. Residents on the street can harvest from any plant, shrub, or tree on the street, not just the ones in front of their house.” He loved the concept of working together with the people he lived near, and he almost wished he lived on Victory Street.
But his parents did, and he knew he’d be spending plenty of time here, on this project, if the residents approved it.
“The issue last time was funding,” he said. “But that’s been solved.” He looked around at everyone. “So we just need to vote. We’ll decide here today if we want to send out a formal vote to everyone on the street, and if we have sixty-five percent who want to participate, we’ll move forward with the ground-breaking and planting of fall bulbs, seeds, and trees as soon as possible.”
Several moments of silence followed, but Seth didn’t have anything else to say. “Questions?”
A man in the front row—Lyle Corbridge—raised his hand. “Where did the funding come from?”
“Uh.” He glanced at Jenna, but she couldn’t very well advise him in front of the crowd. “A private source.”
“And it’s enough for tools and seeds and trees?”