She’d never thought she’d see that. For once, he’d been true to his word about leaving the office behind. As far as she could tell, he hadn’t called Ashley one time since he’d sent her that email.
Working with Evan this week had made Jess remember so many things she’d forgotten. Like how funny he could be, when he wasn’t obsessing over work. They’d spent an hour last night laughing at—of all things—the wretched on-campus apartment they’d lived in when they’d first gotten married. The bed had been so small that Evan’s feet had hung over the bottom, and when he’d turned over at night, which happened often as he was a restless sleeper, he’d sometimes kick the set of drawers that sat at the end of the bed. The room was as small as the bed so they couldn’t move the dresser out of the way, and so his poor toes had stayed bruised for the better part of a year.
It had been such a long time since they’d shared laughter and memories that it felt both familiar and fresh at one and the same time.
Evan put down his wax rag and squinted at the dresser, the sunlight shimmering on the surface. She could tell from his expression that he was proud of his work. He tilted his head to one side and then bent to buff out a spot he’d apparently just noticed. When he straightened back up, he swiped at his brow with the back of his hand, leaving a long smudge of dark wax in its wake.
She grinned but had to admit that even with his beginning-of-a-beard and his dark hair falling over his brow, he looked good.
Really good.
Too good.
He glanced up, his expression brightening when he caught her looking his way.
She forced a smile. “You did a great job on that dresser,” she called.
“We did a great job.” His gaze traveled over her, making her feel as if she were wearing her killer red dress instead of her usual jeans and T-shirt.
His deep voice filled the parking lot. “Pure perfection, Jess.”
He wasn’t talking about the dresser, but she refused to acknowledge it. Glad he was too far away to know his compliment had made her flush, she called out, “You have a smudge…” She pointed to her forehead.
He swiped at his forehead with his arm, frowning at the dirt he saw. He dropped the rag into the bucket. “I’ll be right back.” And with that, he pulled his shirt off and headed for the pond.
Oh dear. Oh dear. Oh dear. She was assailed with memory after memory of curling around those rock-hard abs, of being pulled against him, beneath him and—
Stop it. Rhino, rhino, rhino! I can’t—oh God, he’s taking off his—
He tossed his jeans on the dock and, dressed only in his briefs, executed a perfect dive off the end of the dock.
Wow. Just wow.
She wet her suddenly dry lips as she watched him swimming back and forth in front of the dock, his muscled arms shimmering as they carved through water. It was hot out here in the sun, more so now that she was watching him, but she bet that pond was icy, at best.
“Lord love me, but I’ve died and gone to heaven.”
Startled, Jess turned to find Flora standing behind her on the sidewalk, holding a large flower arrangement.
Flora’s gaze was locked on Evan. “I don’t know about you, but that just made my day. Maybe my week, too. Hell, it might have made this year the best year I’ve ever had.”
Jess didn’t know what to say. “I didn’t hear you pull in. I—I was just thinking about work and stuff.”
“And stuff, huh?” Flora nodded at Evan swimming by the dock. “I’d like some stuff like that of my own.”
They both watched him swim.
Flora sighed. “My oh my, but he’s easy on the eyes, isn’t he?”
Yes. Yes, he was.
“If I didn’t have three more deliveries today, I’d say we pull up some chairs, crack open some cold ones, and watch a bit. But sadly, I’m too busy for more than a quick peek.”
Jess tore her gaze from Evan and turned so that her back was to the water. “Is that the new flower arrangement?”
Flora beamed and held it up for Jess to see. “The holder is wider and lower than the last, which let me put more flowers on display. I think it’ll fill that table in the entry better than the round one.”
Jess touched one of the deep blue flowers. “Flora, you’ve outdone yourself. I love it.”
“Me too.” Flora carried the flower arrangement past Jess and walked toward the lobby. “Let’s see how it looks in place.”
Jess had to fight the urge to glance at the pond as they went inside.
Flora moved the old arrangement and centered the new one on the table. “Just as I thought. This is much better.”
Jess shook her head in wonder. “Every time you bring an arrangement, I think it’s perfect, but then you bring a bigger, better one.”
“You have to see them in place to know what will work.” Flora tilted her head this way and that. “Looks like we finally found the right one. It doesn’t get any better than this.”
Jess wondered if “seeing them in place” only worked with flowers. Maybe Evan seemed different because he was here, in Dove Pond, cut off from the corporate rat race he was so addicted to. I’m different here than I am in Atlanta, where I felt so lost and alone. And I want to stay in Dove Pond, to be the person I’ve become here, but Evan won’t. She appreciated that he’d taken a break from his work, something he should have done long ago. But that was temporary. Which meant that they, and this little truce they’d been enjoying, were temporary, too.
“Honey, you’re not going to cry, are you?”
“No,” Jess choked out. She pulled a tissue from the box near the counter and dabbed at the tears that had filled her eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”
Flora snorted. “You know exactly what’s gotten into you. And don’t tell me it doesn’t have anything to do with Adonis out there, swimming laps by your dock, because then I’d have to call you a bald-faced liar.”
Jess sighed. “I’m confused, that’s all.”
“Confused by a handsome hunk. Where have I seen that story before?” Flora tapped her chin. “Oh wait. Everywhere, that’s where I’ve seen that story before.”
Jess had to laugh, glad for the chance to erase a little of her sadness. “It’s an old story, isn’t it?”
“Older than us.” Flora cocked an eyebrow at Jess. “I take it that’s the ex you told me about.” At Jess’s nod, Flora said, “He must want another chance. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be here.”
“Yes, but I don’t know if I can do it. When it was good, it was really good. Better than good, to be honest. But then he threw himself into his work and our marriage disappeared.” Trying to control her tears, Jess absently touched one of the verbenas in the flower arrangement. “I don’t want to repeat my mistakes, but I also don’t want to miss out if things could—maybe, possibly—get better.”
“You’re hoping.”
“I am, and that scares me. It was hard, leaving Evan. Our lives were so tangled, my sense of worth so tied up in us as a couple, that when the time came to go, I felt as if I had to leave a part of myself behind. I loved him, Flora. I still do.”
Flora’s gaze softened. “So what’s making you so sad? He’s here, isn’t he?”
“For now. We used to be partners in every sense of the word. I want that back, but I don’t want it to cost so much this time. I wonder if he can do that. Heck, I don’t even know if he’s willing to do that.”
“Men,” Flora said, shaking her head. “Biggest pains in the ass I’ve ever known, and yet there are times, and certain men, who are worth it. That’s what you have to figure out, Miss Jess. Whether this particular one is worth taking another chance on.”
“I’ve been asking myself that same question for a week now and I just don’t know.”
Flora snorted. “You know. You just haven’t told yourself yet.”
“You think so?”
“I do. There will come a moment when you’ll realize what that decision is. You jus
t have to wait for the switch to flip.”
“I hope you’re right. He’s leaving tomorrow, and he’s going to want an answer. What if I don’t realize what I want until after he’s gone?”
“If he’s such a sorry piece of work that he bails after one lousy week, well then, you won’t have to spend any more time worrying about him, will you?”
“I guess not.” If only it was that easy, Jess thought. “Thanks for listening, Flora.”
“My pleasure. I—oops, gotta go. I’ve got another arrangement to deliver before five. But you call me if you need to talk more, okay?”
“I will. Thank you.”
“Don’t think about it. I’m off. Flowers wait for no one.” Flora headed for the door.
Jess followed, walking Flora to her van. “Once I open, I’ll need one arrangement a week, plus a smaller arrangement for the breakfast buffet.”
“You got it.” Flora opened her door and looked past Jess to the pond. The older woman pouted. “Looks like Eros has left the water. Call me if he decides to sunbathe naked, will you?”
Jess laughed. “Will do.”
“Great. I’ll bring a pitcher of my secret sauce and we’ll make a day of it.” She winked at Jess and climbed into the van.
Jess watched Flora leave and then turned and looked at the pond. The late afternoon sun cast long, golden fingers through the trees and across the sparkling water. Evan’s jeans and T-shirt were gone, so she supposed he was in his room, probably taking a shower and getting ready for dinner.
She glanced at the lowering sun. By this time tomorrow, Evan and his repaired Jaguar would be back in Atlanta, and she’d be here alone.
Suddenly, the air felt chillier, the world a little duller, her heart a lot heavier.
What could she do? She couldn’t leave The Last Chance Motel. She’d invested her time and heart in this place. She looked around, seeing the motel as it would be—charming, fun, and memorable. A place she would be deeply proud of. If she closed her eyes now, she could hear the excited exclamations from the guests as they saw their rooms for the first time, and the delighted murmur of dozens of conversations as families shared joyous moments. She could see the smiles of happy couples walking hand in hand to the dock where they’d enjoy late afternoon snacks as they dipped their feet in the cool, fresh water.
And all of that would happen because of her vision and her hard work. She couldn’t leave here. She’d be miserable if she did. Evan was just going to have to accept that it was her turn to follow her dreams.
And if he couldn’t? Flora was right about that; at least then Jess wouldn’t be sitting around, weighed down by her own doubts.
She turned to walk back to the lobby but stopped when she noticed the door to Room Two stood partially open. She frowned. She’d been in there only a few hours ago and could have sworn that she’d locked the door as she’d left.
“I must be going crazy,” she muttered under her breath and headed for the room.
Before locking the door again, she took a few steps inside to make sure everything was okay. She called this room The French Connection and so far it was her favorite. It needed a more romantic name, one that matched the deluxe brocade pillows and duvet; the luxuriously carved headboard; and the heavy, cream-colored linen curtains, but for now The French Connection it was.
Nothing seemed amiss as she ran her hand over the ornate cherry bureau and bedside tables. She’d gotten them from a dealer, although the ones Evan had just refinished were now every bit as nice.
He’d done an amazing job, and she was grateful. Better yet, he hadn’t once tried to Evan his way into taking over. That was different, too.
Maybe, just maybe, there was hope.
Still musing, she’d just started to leave when she heard an odd drip-drip-drip.
She stopped and looked at the bathroom door. That sounded like a leak. But surely not. The entire plumbing system was new.
She went into the bathroom, the dripping sound louder. She turned on the light and glanced at the freestanding soaking tub, but no water dripped from the brushed chrome faucet. She rested her hand on the cool Carrara marble countertop and bent to see if perhaps the dripping came from the sink faucet, but again, everything was dry. She opened the cabinet beneath to see if anything was amiss there, but everything looked the way it should.
That left the heavy glass-encased shower. She opened the door and there was the source of the annoying noise. “For the love of—” She stepped inside and reached for the handle, twisting it firmly.
The dripping continued.
She frowned and tried the handle again. Surely if she twisted it hard enough, the water would st—
Clank! The handle came off in her hand.
She stared at it, surprised, when—whoosh!—water gushed into her face. Icy cold water pummeled her, stinging like needles. Unable to see or breathe, she stumbled backward, falling blindly—
Strong hands lifted her out of the gushing water and set her on the bathroom floor. She dropped the handle, and it clanked to the floor as she wiped her face with both hands, still gasping for air as she tried to clear her vision.
“Are you okay?” Evan asked over the sound of flowing water.
“I’m fine. Just angry at my plumber.” She shoved her wet hair from her face and blinked hazily at him. Evan stood in front of her, his T-shirt splotched with water from where he’d lifted her out of the shower.
At least he was dressed, she told herself, ignoring a flicker of disappointment. “I need a pair of pliers to turn this off.” She looked down at her soaked tennis shoes and jeans.
He handed her a towel. “I know where the pliers are. I saw them earlier.”
He was gone before she could reply. Muttering to herself, she dried off as much as she could. When the towel grew wet, she dropped it on the floor and then grabbed an extra one from the rack. Nothing was going to completely dry her soaked T-shirt, which was plastered to her like plastic wrap, but at least water was no longer dripping off her elbows.
She pulled her ponytail holder free and had just towel-dried her hair when Evan reappeared in the doorway, holding the pliers. She tossed her towel onto the counter and held out her hand.
“I’ll do it.” He started for the shower but then stopped and sent her a sheepish look. “I mean, I will if you want me to.”
She plucked the pliers from his hand. “I’m already soaked. It might as well be me.”
He stepped out of her way. “It’s your motel.”
“I’m going to kill the plumber who screwed this up.” She grasped the pliers firmly, straightened her shoulders, and went back into the shower. This time, she stayed to one side of the icy spray, so she could see what she was doing. It took her several tries to turn the valve stem, but eventually she managed to twist it to the off position.
Just as quickly as it started, the gushing water stopped.
Victory! Jess came back out of the shower and looked down at her newly sopping-wet clothes.
“That was something. Where did you learn about the parts of a shower—oh. Let me guess. YouTube.” He shook his head. “You and your videos.”
“I have a book on home repair too.” She took off her tennis shoes and drained them in the sink. “Every night, I read a few pages.”
“Really?”
“It helps me sleep.” She put her shoes on the mat and then grabbed a dry towel from the stack under the sink and tried to sop up some of the water dripping from her newly drenched clothes.
“You’re soaked,” Evan said.
“It’s nothing that a hot bath and a slice of pizza won’t fix.”
“Pizza and a hot bath. Now you’re just teasing me.”
She grinned. “I hope the water doesn’t ruin your Princess Elsa T-shirt.” Every day this week, he’d shown up with yet another Disney T-shirt he’d bought from his Target trip. She rather liked them.
He looked down at his shirt, which was overlaid with her wet imprint, and claimed a towel for himsel
f. “Fortunately for us both, it was cold water and not hot, so the color shouldn’t fade.” He made a show of delicately patting his T-shirt as if afraid to ruin it.
She had to laugh. “You sound as if you plan on keeping those shirts.”
“I’ve become a fan. I mean, how can you not love Elsa?” He tossed his towel onto the counter and broke into such a screechy falsetto rendition of Let It Go that she burst out laughing.
His gaze met hers, and suddenly, their shared humor disappeared. Left in its place was a raw, powerful emotion that made her heart thud wildly.
She couldn’t look away from him.
But what was even more amazing was that she didn’t want to.
She wanted to be here, with him, in this moment.
An instant, slow warmth formed in the pit of her stomach, fighting the chill made by her wet clothes.
His gaze darkened, his chest moving rapidly. “Jess?” His voice was deep and ragged.
She didn’t answer. Instead, she dropped her towel and stepped into his arms, pulling his mouth to hers.
Evan kissed her deeply, his searching hands molding her soft curves to his hard planes.
She opened her mouth under his and, desperate for more of him, tugged at his shirt, pulling it up, sliding her hands up his back—
“Argh!” He stepped back, laughing. “Good lord, your hands are cold!”
“Are they?” Jess grinned and grabbed the front of his shirt, trying to slip her hand up his stomach as he backed out of the bathroom and into the motel room.
Laughing, he stopped beside the bed, grabbed her wrists and wrapped her hands behind her back, pulling her wet body flush against his. “We need to get you warm.”
“That would be nice,” she admitted. There was a bed right beside them that was piled high with blankets.
She knew it.
He knew it.
All that had to happen was for someone to mention it.
I Loved You First Page 24