Page 10 of A Lonely Road (Spruce Hill #2)

Chapter Eight

Jake

S he hummed a little, then fell silent. I wondered if direct questions about her own past would cause her to bolt or clam up—I had no desire to watch those walls shoot up around her again, not when I finally seemed to be making some progress, even if I wanted desperately to know if there was something more behind her panic attack after the incident at The Mermaid.

“Hey,” I said after a few minutes, still feeling more than a little chagrined, “I really am sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have teased you. I give you my word that I’m not pushing for anything romantic if you’re not interested, but I would really like us to be friends.”

Friends . How innocuous the word sounded, so sweet and uncomplicated.

“To be perfectly honest, I don’t think I’m very good in the friendship department,” she admitted quietly.

I shook my head as I took another sip of lemonade. “I don’t believe that for a second. Seems more likely that you’re afraid to take the risk.”

“Why do you say that?”

Maybe she meant for the question to sound casual, but instead it came out in a terrified squeak. Her body had gone completely still, except for a tiny tremor in the hand holding her lemonade.

With my gaze on the hawthorn at the back of the yard instead of on the woman panicking by my side, I spoke as gently as possible.

“You’re not cold, Nora, or even unfriendly.

Your commitment to that car out front shows you’ve got a loyal streak a mile wide.

Not everyone is an open book like me.” I shot her a smile.

“Some folks are just slow to trust. There’s nothing wrong with that.

The best things in life are worth working for. ”

She eyed me cautiously for a second, then she smiled and my heart stuttered in my chest. “You’re a very philosophical man, you know. If you’re really sure you want to be friends with me, then I’ll try. I can’t promise more than that.”

I was inordinately pleased with her answer, but the arrival of a gawky young delivery boy interrupted our conversation.

When I presented Nora with a steaming slice of mushroom pizza, her sigh had my insides igniting.

Even the sheepish little grin she sent in my direction before taking her first bite was appealing.

Get yourself under control, I told myself firmly as I sat back down beside her. You just promised her friendship, you jackass.

We ate in silence until I got up to fetch each of us another slice.

“Is that a koi pond?” she asked, gesturing toward the back corner of the yard with her plate.

“It is, yes, but there aren’t any fish in there yet.

I bought the house a few years back and it’s been a work in progress ever since.

It’s easier to deal with messing up drywall than living things.

I don’t know the first thing about keeping fish alive.

I guess I’ll have to learn, or maybe turn it into a little water feature.

Wouldn’t a waterfall look nice back there? ”

“It would.”

I cocked my head thoughtfully. “Someday I’d love to adopt a dog, though.”

“Me too,” she said quietly. “And if my apartment is anything to go by, you’re amazing at renovations. I’m sure the house will be up to snuff in no time.”

“I do what I can,” I replied, struggling not to preen at the compliment.

“How do you find the time along with running the restaurant? That seems like a full-time job in itself.”

I shrugged. “Labor of love, I guess.”

“Your sister was right about one thing,” Nora mused.

“That I’m a truly excellent catch?”

She laughed, a rich, musical sound that I was beginning to find addictive. “That you’re very handy,” she corrected.

As much as my gut told me to resist asking personal questions, I grew more desperate to know her. “I’ll take that as a compliment. So,” I said, as casually as possible, “what about you? Small town or city girl?”

Though she went silent for a moment, I was delighted when she didn’t freeze up on me. “Little bit of everything, actually,” she said softly. “I was a Navy brat. We moved around a lot.”

I lifted a brow. “Wow. That must have been hard. Moving here was a big adjustment for me and Sam, and that was only the one time.”

“I guess it is pretty tough for some kids. And for some adults, obviously. Just about the time you settle in and make friends, you pack up and move again. I always thought it was fun to see so much of the world, though. This might come as a shock to you,” she added dryly, “but I wasn’t the most sociable kid. Being alone never really bothered me.”

I laughed, imagining a miniature version of her prickly self. “I’m sure you were adorable. So now you’ve got the travel bug?”

“Maybe that’s what it is,” she hedged, suddenly sounding self-conscious.

“Or maybe you’re just looking for a place to call home . ” From the way her expression flashed with something soft and vulnerable, I gathered that one struck a chord with her.

She gave a tiny shrug, her gaze on the back corner of the yard. “Maybe.”

From anybody else, I would've considered that a rebuff, but I heard the longing in her voice, caught the wistful glint in her eyes as she studied the pink tinge of the impending sunset over the trees. I bit back the urge to continue nudging, to ask if she thought Spruce Hill might fit the bill.

If I played my cards right, she’d open up when she was good and ready, not a second before. I carefully turned the conversation toward safer subjects, fully aware of the grateful smile she threw my way.

It was nearly dark when Nora said, “I better get going. This was . . .” She cleared her throat. “This was really nice, Jake. Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure, Nora.”

That much was completely true—I hadn’t expected to enjoy the evening quite so much, but Nora was an exceptional companion, once I’d edged past those defenses. I stood when she did and held out a hand, grinning when she took it without a trace of her previous hesitation.

“Will I see you at The Mermaid tomorrow?”

The look she shot at me was both amused and annoyed. “Your sister bullied me into meeting her for coffee in the morning, so maybe not. I might need a night off from work to recover from that level of socialization.”

I winced dramatically. “Ah, well, best of luck with that,” I joked. “I can call your phone at a designated time so you can use it as an excuse to get the hell out of there, if you want.”

Though she laughed, Nora kept her palm out and curled her fingers. “Give me your phone, I’ll add my number to your contacts. ”

Simmer down, buddy, she’s just playing along, I told myself as I handed it over. Still, I felt a rush of pleasure when she gave it back. It was progress, no matter how small.

“Let me know if you need an escape call,” I said with a wink.

The smile that curved her rosy lips caused a bolt of heat to streak its way through my insides, settling firmly somewhere in my chest even as tiny sparks continued down my limbs.

It took all of my willpower not to reach out and touch her.

Instead, I dropped my gaze to the phone and sent her a text that said, Friendly neighbor rescue service here.

She smirked at the message and pocketed her phone. “Have a good night, Jake,” she said softly.

“You too, Nora.”

As she cut across the grass toward her apartment, I was left grinning like a fool and clutching my phone to my chest.

This woman was slow to warm, that had been obvious from the start, but she was quirky and clever and I’d give almost anything to earn her trust. I was dead certain the eventual thaw, however long it was in coming, would prove well worth the effort.

The sound of her laughter captivated me, so much so that I struggled not to imagine the other ways she might be slow to warm up.

One thing was absolutely certain—Nora Cassidy needed a friend. First and foremost, I was determined to be that for her. And if anything else came of that friendship, I would definitely not complain .

I just hoped Sam would go easy on her tomorrow. My sister was not known for her subtlety, and I got the impression that any overt movements might send Nora fleeing from Spruce Hill altogether.