Page 10 of The Summer I Stayed (Midlife Meet Cute #5)
Maggie
The smell of fresh paint and sawdust fills my nose as I stand in the living room of the lake house, contemplating swatches in my hand—soft blue or warm beige.
The peeling wallpaper is nowhere in sight, and now, there’s a fresh canvas for me to add my personal touch to.
A sense of contentment washes over me, a feeling so foreign that it takes a moment to recognize.
For the first time in a very long time, I feel a spark of hope.
Like this is my fresh start, my new beginning.
“Jake!” I shout, hoping he’s within earshot.
He’s been in and out of the house doing small tasks that make such a big difference—cabinet handles and new faucet in the kitchen, trim work in the hall and bedrooms, and anything else I’ve asked him to do. He may have done it with a gruff shrug, but I know he enjoys it.
The sound of shuffling feet grows louder until he appears in the doorway. His eyebrows raised at the sight of the paint swatches on the wall. He leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest.
It’s not that I’m just now noticing his muscular frame or that he’s wildly attractive, it’s that I’m becoming accustomed to it, accustomed to him. It’s part of the whole Jake package. Rough around the edges yet deeply thoughtful, irritable but charming in his own way, and yes, easy on the eyes.
“What do you think?” I ask, fanning my hand by the swatches.
“They’re fine.”
I shake my head at him. “Fine?” I question playfully, raising an eyebrow at him. His choice of words isn’t particularly helpful, but I realize I wasn’t actually expecting him to have a preference either.
Jake pushes off the wall and walks closer, until he’s standing next to me. He runs his hand over the stubble on his chin, a deep hum resonating in his throat.
“I guess…the blue one,” he says.
I stare at him. “Wait, really? You think so?” I say, surprised.
“What? You asked for my opinion!”
I grin at him, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Yes, I did.”
“The beige is nice, but it kind of blends in. The blue has more…character.”
“Character, huh?” I tease, elbowing his side.
Jake grins. He grins! “Yeah, like you,” he says, almost shyly.
His eyes meet mine, holding a steady gaze that leaves me feeling oddly flustered.
“You know…unpredictable, bright, full of surprises.”
His words hang in the air between us, lingering like an unfinished melody. My heart races in my chest as I try to read the man before me. Is he simply comparing me to a color, or is there more to it?
“Blue it is.” It comes out more as a whisper than a confident decision.
His eyes linger on me for a moment longer before he nods and mumbles something about getting back to work. There’s more to Jake Hollis than meets the eye. He’s like a prickly pear: rough on the outside, but surprisingly sweet beneath the tough exterior.
After our lunch the other day, it’s like his walls are slowly becoming more transparent. Our interactions are lighter now with moments of teasing, and he makes me smile more than I’d care to admit, even when he’s grumpy. But that moment felt anything but light.
My heart races as I watch him leave the room. Something is shifting inside of me, a feeling that’s both exciting and terrifying. Are those…butterflies in my stomach?
I shake my head, clearing my thoughts. What’s next on today’s agenda?
Now that I’ve decided on a paint color that Jake will order, I want to go to the antique store and see if anything catches my eye. There’s a small one in town I’ve been wanting to check out. I had to keep telling myself to wait; I tend to get a little too excited shopping.
“I’m headed into town,” I call out to Jake, who’s nowhere in sight. “Call me if you need anything!”
The antique store is a treasure trove filled with pieces that each carry their own unique story. It may be one of my favorite places to be, besides the lake house.
I wander through the maze-like layout, and I spot the perfect coffee table for the living room.
Its rounded edges and rich walnut shade draw me in.
I round another aisle to find a set of matching chairs that complement the new wall color perfectly.
I can envision them both in front of the large window facing the lake.
The perfect reading spot. Excitement bubbles within me as I make my purchase and arrange for delivery.
Just as I’m about to leave the store, a familiar voice calls out from behind me. “Maggie! Just the person I was hoping to run into.”
I turn around to see Gemma sporting an infectious grin.
“Gemma! Looking for me?”
She nods enthusiastically. “Yes, I need some input for the Summer Festival. But first, how’s the lake house coming along?”
“Great! I was just shopping for a few things, actually.”
“I’ve been following along on your blog. You and Jake have done a wonderful job with the place.” She looks at me in silence before she asks the question that’s clearly been on her mind. “So, now that it will be done soon…what are you going to do with it?”
You’d think I would have a plan for it by now. But I don’t even know what the next step of my life looks like with an empty nest. How am I supposed to decide what to do with the house my husband left me?
I came here to fix the house, and after that, I had no plans. She was the one who helped Steven purchase it and has kept an eye on it all these years. It’s just honest curiosity.
“I’m not exactly sure yet,” I say honestly. “I guess I’ll figure it out once everything’s settled.”
Gemma gives me a nod. “Well, whatever you decide, I think it’s doing you some good to be here.”
“What makes you say that?” I ask curiously.
She shrugs with a soft smile. “You just seem…happier. More alive.”
I ponder over her words, surprised by the truth in them. Being here has given me something to focus on, a project to pour my heart into. And I suppose it shows. I do love making a house a home.
“Maybe you’re right,” I admit.
“Now, let’s talk about the festival…”
She hands me a sketch of a simple yet charming design for a photo backdrop.
“I bet Jake could help with that.” The suggestion slips out before I can stop it.
Her eyes widen in surprise before a mischievous grin spreads across her face. “Jake? That would be fantastic!”
I suddenly feel my cheeks heat up as I quickly backtrack. “I mean, I can ask him. No guarantees though.”
“Of course! No pressure! But it would be wonderful if he could help out.”
And just like that, I have another project on my hands…and I need Jake’s help.
Returning to the lake house, I find Jake working on sanding down the worn-out dining table left behind by the previous owners.
It has good bones but needs a good sanding and to be restained.
His focus is intense as he works away. His T-shirt sticks to him from the heat of the day, showing off his muscular frame.
I stand in the distance for a moment, admiring the scene before me. He pauses, takes off his hat, and runs his hands through his hair. There’s just something about a man who can work with his hands.
Now this, this has got to stop. I’m looking at the man like he’s the cover model for Better Homes & Hotter Biceps.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, chastising myself for even thinking of Jake that way. I’m here for a purpose, which is fixing the lake house, not to have a crush on the handyman.
I fetch two bottles of water from the fridge and make my way toward him.
“Hey, I brought you some water.”
He mumbles a quick “thanks” before taking a long gulp.
“I need you.”
He chokes on the water. Realization dawns on me as my cheeks heat up.
“I need your help,” I clarify, my face feeling like it’s on fire. “Summer Festival. Photo booth.”
Jake raises an eyebrow in confusion.
“I ran into Gemma at the antique store, and she showed me this sketch of this photo booth she wants. Then I may have…accidentally…said you would help,” I say, slightly questioning him at the same time.
“I can take a look at it,” he says, calm as a cucumber. No gruff, no grunt, no mumbling incoherently.
“You will?” I say, shocked.
“Yes, I will. Just get me the sketch,” he says, ducking his head a little. Is that a…smirk?
I’m taken aback by his readiness to help. Not that he hasn’t been helpful but that he’s doing it without any complaints. Where’s grumpy Jake?