Page 41 of A Lonely Road (Spruce Hill #2)

Chapter Thirty-Four

Nora

A s afternoon bled into evening, I finally told Jake I did actually need to get some work done.

He reluctantly agreed, admitting that he needed to update The Mermaid’s accounts and prepare some supply orders, no matter what else he’d rather be doing with me, so we ended up sitting at opposite ends of the leather sofa with our laptops perched on our knees.

By now, I knew him—knew us both—well enough to make him stay out of arm’s reach. With an amused snort, Jake agreed. Right about now, I was sure he was sorely regretting not being able to reach over and touch me without being obvious about it.

I regretted it, myself.

Though I was usually capable of ignoring him as my fingers moved quickly over the keyboard, Jake spent at least as much of our work time surreptitiously watching me as he spent doing any of his own work.

After nearly two hours, I paused long enough to rub the back of my neck and caught him staring at me—again.

I tried to look stern, I couldn’t quite hide a smile as I raised a brow in question.

“What kinds of things do you translate?” he asked, lacing his fingers behind his head. We’d spoken a few times about my job previously, but with everything else going on, he hadn’t asked for very many details.

I leaned back and tucked my legs underneath me as I flexed my fingers back and forth to loosen them up. “A lot of different stuff, but my favorite thing to translate is probably novels.”

His eyes widened. “Like, entire books? That sounds like a hell of a lot of work.”

“Yes,” I replied, my lips curving at his surprise.

“It’s a ton of work, but they’re definitely the most fun of the projects I take on.

With a book, it’s not just about converting one language to another, it’s about capturing the same feel, the voice and intention of the writer, creating the right atmosphere.

It’s way more of a challenge, but it’s also by far the most satisfying for me. ”

Jake watched me intently, and I flushed. Even if he was interrupting my actual work by talking about it, I was too caught up in sharing the information to mind.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I like seeing you this way. ”

I bit my lip. “What way?”

“Excited. Enchanting. Eyes all lit up, like you could talk about this all day. It’s beautiful, Nora.” He grinned and I had to fight the urge not to shift toward him on the couch. “What kind of books do you translate?”

“A huge mix of things. I intentionally try to keep it varied, just to make sure it doesn’t get stale.

I’ve done mysteries, romance, a couple horror, which aren’t my favorite thing to read but can be fun to work on.

Some children’s books. Novels are heavy and time-intensive, so doing smaller projects in between is like a palate cleanser.

Picture books are good for that, but I also do articles, documents, sometimes even instruction manuals.

” Something in Jake’s expression made me falter and ask, “Now why are you looking at me like that ?”

He shook his head, smiling. “You’re amazing, that’s all.”

“Whatever,” I mumbled, ducking my head.

He set aside his laptop and held out a hand. “Ready for a break yet?”

I sighed. “I have just a few pages left on this, and knowing how your ‘breaks’ tend to unfold, I should probably get this done before I let you distract me, tempting as it is.”

The smirk on his face told me I’d guessed exactly what kind of break he had in mind. “Okay, you caught me,” he drawled, “so how about a compromise? I’ll run this stuff over to The Mermaid, place a few quick supply orders, and bring back some dinner for us while you finish up? ”

“I would never say no to stuffed mushrooms and strawberry shortcake. Think you can make that happen, hotshot?”

Jake winked and leaned over to kiss me, letting his mouth linger on mine until I finally pushed him firmly away.

“I happen to have an in with the owners, so that shouldn’t be a problem.

I’ll lock the door and turn on the alarm.

Text if you need me for anything. Or if you get lonely and want some hot selfies to keep you company. ”

“I will.” I laughed, batting away the hand he tried to sneak up my leg. “Go on, Lincoln, get out of here. It’s broad daylight, and Dad said he’s back at the apartment now. I’ll be perfectly fine on my own.”

I lifted my face for one last kiss before Jake grabbed his ledgers and laptop and left me alone in the quiet house.

For a moment, I simply listened to the sound of silence, then I turned my focus back to the computer screen.

If I could finish this project before he got home, we would have the entire evening free.

That prospect would definitely make my current sacrifice worthwhile, though I gave serious consideration to requesting one of Jake’s so-called “hot selfies.”

The words on the screen swirled around me in a linguistic cloud as I worked.

Sometimes the work was heavy and time-consuming, but even so, I loved it.

And, if I did say so myself, I was good at my job.

With the motivation of dinner, dessert, and dessert dangling before me , I managed to fly through the remaining pages.

Once it was done, I sat back with a satisfied sigh.

“And with time to spare,” I said aloud, cracking my aching knuckles.

The project would need another read-through, but the hard part was finished and I was well ahead of my deadline, so I closed the laptop and set it on the coffee table.

Briefly, I debated taking a hot shower before Jake returned, but I hadn’t paid enough attention to the time when he left and knew that if he got home while I was showering, dinner would end up cold before we got to it.

Texting him to ask was out of the question—if he thought there was a chance of coming home to find me naked and dripping, he would definitely take advantage of it.

The thought made me smile as I stood and stretched out my back.

My gaze traveled across the Dude Lair before I wandered aimlessly toward the kitchen, cocking my head from side to side as I considered what decorative touches might be missing.

A nice lamp, maybe, to put at the end of the leather sofa.

Some artwork for the walls, reminiscent of the kind that hung at the inn.

I’d never put any effort into personal touches, but the thought of adding some to Jake’s house filled me with an odd sense of longing.

I’m going to ask you to move in with me, for real.

His words wafted around me while I tried to imagine myself living with him.

He'd asked me to help him with finishing the guest bedroom renovations upstairs, but it was still hard for me to picture placing my own stamp on things. It had been a long time since I’d done that even to my own previous homes.

Then I closed my eyes and thought about paint colors, and suddenly it wasn’t so difficult to imagine anymore.

How did he know just how to reel me in without ever exerting any pressure?

The man certainly had a knack for drawing out the dreams I didn’t realize I was even harboring somewhere deep in my heart.

I turned, intending to set the table for Jake’s return, and caught sight of something on one of the deck chairs.

Probably just a leftover wrapper from this morning’s breakfast with the gang, I told myself as I moved to the French doors to squint at it through the glass. Though my pulse kicked into high gear as soon as I laid my hand on the door handle, I forced myself to take deep, calming breaths.

“After all this time, you’re still afraid of your own stupid shadow,” I muttered, annoyed with my response.

I’d come too far to let myself fall back into those timid habits that made me avoid Jake when I first arrived in Spruce Hill.

The afternoon was still bright and I could see the entire yard from where I stood.

There was no reason not to go clean up a coffee shop wrapper that had been left behind.

The deck was in full view of the windows of the garage apartment, so if I screamed, my father would surely come running.

Jake had shown me how to disarm the security system, so I typed in the code and waited for it to blink green before I went out onto the deck, leaving the door open behind me.

The heat of the day felt good after sitting in the air conditioned house for so long.

I let my gaze dart once more across the backyard, then bent to pick up the paper and froze before my fingers made contact with it.

It wasn’t a wrapper, I realized numbly.

On the deck chair sat the notebook that disappeared from my coffee table after the break-in, with a forget-me-not laid carefully on top.

I leaned down to look closer and saw that it had been flipped back to one of the first pages I’d used nearly a year ago, a quick outline listing the salient plot points of the Spanish thriller I'd been translating into English.

Break-in.

Threats.

Vandalism.

Revenge.

The first three were crossed out in heavy black marker, but the last was circled in red.

“Shit!” I whispered, grabbing the notebook even as I reached into my pocket for my phone. The flower fluttered down to land at my feet. Jake answered on the first ring, but I didn’t wait for his hello before I said, “He was here, Jake. On the deck.”

“I’m leaving right now. Stay on the phone with me. I’ll have Bea call 911, tell them to get over to my place right away. Are you still out on the deck? Get inside now!”

“I thought it was just trash,” I said as I turned back toward the open door. “It’s my notebook, apparently he was using some old translation notes as a freaking guidebook. There was no one out here, I checked before I turned off the alarm, so I—”