The light changes, and he drives on, taking the turn onto the highway.
I’m quiet as we drive, watching the beautiful scenery as we head farther north toward the foothills of the Appalachian mountains, the trees in blazing colors among stands of evergreens. The blue sky is dotted with wispy cirrus clouds, light and easy like things with Eli.
I relax for the first time in a long time. I’m going on vacation with a sexy man, who understands the need for discretion and clear boundaries. I don’t think it gets any better than that. Add this to the list of things I’ve never done with a guy. Never went away together, never been kidnapped, and never had sex taken off the table. Hmm…
“Is kissing allowed?” I ask.
He winks. “Only if you ask nicely.”
8
Eli
So far, so good. Jenna and I just settled in at the lodge—a large two-story log building—after a brief stop for lunch and a short hike by a waterfall on the way up. It’s afternoon now, and the property around the lodge is filled with hiking trails through woodlands with a bubbling stream. Lucy is dashing around the suite, happy to be out of the car. We have a living room with a small galley kitchen, and two bedrooms on either side with their own bathrooms. There’s only a few other couples here, according to the front desk clerk. Most of the place is empty. Not surprising for a Monday when it’s not yet peak foliage time.
“This is so nice,” Jenna says, looking out the glass patio doors to our view of rolling hills and woodlands. It’s a beautiful day I get to share with a beautiful woman. I had originally thought of this as an extended first date, but after hearing all her worries, I realized I can’t think too far ahead. Two days. A test of sorts. When it’s just us, is there something worth pursuing despite what she considers her damage and the possible fallout with Sydney? I don’t want her to lose that important friendship either. I’m hopeful about us, but a lot depends on how things go between us here, isolated in the mountains of New Hampshire. No pressure.
I come up behind her and wrap my arms around her. “I’m glad you like it.”
She glances at me over her shoulder. “I thought we weren’t having sex.”
“Last time I checked, hugging someone fully clothed isn’t sex.”
“It’s a preamble.”
“Can’t I just be affectionate?”
She turns in my arms, her arms wrapping around my middle. “Where did the lust go? Or was that just me?”
My lips curve up. “Oh, it’s there, trust me.”
She runs her fingers through the hair at the nape of my neck. “Maybe we could do other things.”
I pull away, already too tempted. “Nope. I’m getting Lucy’s leash, and we’re going to explore the property.”
“And after?”
“We’re going to play poker while you spill all your secrets to me.”
“Strip poker?” she asks hopefully.
I groan. “You’re killing me here.”
“I think it would be okay,” she says softly.
I turn away, grabbing Lucy’s leash. This is how it has to be. I know that on a gut level. I want to build something here, a foundation.
I call Lucy, and she barrels straight toward me, leaping into my arms. I laugh as she licks my face.
Jenna walks over, smiling. “This dog loves you like crazy.”
“She’s done that from day one when I got her from the vet, Dr. Russo. She was so grateful to be adopted.” I set her down and snap her leash on. “Ready?” I ask Jenna.
She’s still smiling at Lucy, only now her eyes are watery. “Yeah, I’m ready.” She grabs her coat, and we head out through the patio doors.
“Fall’s my favorite season,” she says. “I love the cool temperatures, the leaves, all the delicious baking with apples, pumpkin, and cinnamon.”
“I like it too. Mostly because it’s a quieter time at work once summer vacation’s over. And the weather’s not bad. Spring’s my favorite though.”
“Baseball season,” she says.
“Exactly.”
“Yanks had a good season.” And then she surprises me, talking enthusiastically about the lineup and how she knows next season they’ll go all the way. Most women aren’t so excited about baseball. This is looking very promising. A woman who loves the Yankees as much as I do.
“We should see a game together,” I say.
“I’d love that.” She sobers. “I mean, we could probably get a group together or something.”
“What’s the weirdest thing you like to do?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood. I can’t have her running scared. Building trust takes time, and I’ve only got her for the next thirty-six hours.
She shakes her head. “I’m not admitting that to you.”
“Why not? I won’t judge.”
She bites back a smile. “Yes, you will.”
“Nope. I’m sure I’ve seen and heard much worse around town.”
“Like what?”
Lucy yanks at the leash, enticed by a squirrel. “Heel,” I order, keeping her close to my side. She yanks once more and then looks up at me, her eyes begging me to let her get to her prey. “That’s a heel,” I say, feeding her a treat from my pocket.
Jenna looks at me expectantly. Oh, right. All the crazy stuff that goes on in Summerdale.
“I can only tell you stuff that was in the police blotter,” I say.
“They still publish that? I thought the newspaper shut down.”
“They’ve got one person, Mrs. Shire’s daughter, who runs the whole thing and publishes it online.”
“Huh. Is it still called the Summerdale Sheet?”
I guide Lucy closer to the stream, walking alongside the bubbling water. “Sure is.”
“I’ve been missing out. I’m going to look that up. Give me a few news tidbits in the meantime.”
“There’s so many. I told you about Rainbow sunbathing nude in public, then there was the kid who secretly kept a squirrel as a pet, and then it got stuck inside the sofa. Hmm, what else? Mr. Needles crashed his car into his garage and claimed it was from a hurricane. Actually, that last one wasn’t public. Keep that to yourself. He was hoping for insurance money, and I talked him out of committing fraud.”
She smiles up at me. “You’re good with people.”
“Takes all kinds. Wouldn’t it be boring if we were all the same?”
“I guess.”
I take her hand, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world. “So what’s your weird thing you like to do?”
“You can’t tell anyone this ever. It would destroy my reputation as Summerdale’s premiere baker.”
I fake gasp. “What could it be? Do you pass off frozen pie as homemade?”
“Never!”
“Your cookies come from a tube?”
“No, no, no. Everything is authentic and made from scratch from the freshest ingredients.”
“Then what? The secret ingredient is lard?”
She laughs. “No, only organic butter in my recipes. Okay, maybe my thing isn’t so bad after all.” She pauses and looks around, but there’s no one here, just us, the squirrels gathering acorns, and one happy dog. “I like to eat frozen Twinkies dipped in milk.”