by Emmy Eugene
“It’s enough to cover everything,” he said. “I’ve been over the budget with them.” He’d sat down with the budget for the Edible Neighborhood every night this week. He knew what it would cost, and it wasn’t even going to make a dent in his bank account.
“Can we choose what we want in our spots?” a woman asked. Beverly Clearance. “This map has walnut trees in front of my house, but I think they’re messy.”
“Of course,” Seth said. “The map is just a guide. It’s not set in stone.”
“Is the option to opt-out still available?”
Seth searched for the person who’d asked the question, but Jenna stepped to his side.
“Of course it is, George,” she said sweetly, her smile powerful when she employed it in full-force. “But I know you plant tomatoes and pumpkins in your backyard and then bring the extras to church. Why can’t you just put those plants in the front, let others weed for you, and they can take what you don’t want?”
George Hill folded his arms and looked straight ahead.
“No one has to participate who doesn’t want to,” Seth said to cover the awkwardness. “We encourage everyone to put at least one thing out front for everyone to enjoy. But yes, the opt-out option is still available.”
“It’s my understanding that the sign-ups will be done the same way as last time, too,” Ruth said. “Is that right?”
“Yes,” Seth said, giving her a grateful smile. “Honestly, I don’t think it matters if we all plant apple trees. The idea is to come together as a community and build something to last generations. That’s why we plant trees and vines and bulbs, though annual plants and vegetables are perfectly acceptable too.”
He surveyed the crowd, but most of these people were really good at hiding what they were thinking. “Should we vote about sending out the invitation to move forward with the project to every resident on the street? Or are there other questions?”
“Let’s vote,” someone on the front row said, and Ruth said, “I second the vote.”
Seth nodded to Jenna, fading behind her as she called for the vote. To his great surprise, every hand in the room—including George’s—went up. A smile burst onto his face, and he grinned while Ruth said, “Now come on, people. I can’t keep all of these cookies. Come have something to eat.”
His gaze landed on Jenna, and she gave him a thumbs-up that made his whole world brighter. Why he hadn’t kissed her last night, he wasn’t sure. He really wanted her to know he liked her, but he wasn’t great with words.
Or maybe he was. He had admitted to her that he’d stayed awake, mad at himself for not kissing her after their date.
After lunch, he told himself, hoping he wouldn’t chicken out for a second time. He wondered where the brave man who’d leaned right over and kissed her in the hospital had gone. At the same time, he wanted their next kiss to be right, not impulsive.
And last night, with the things they’d shared, he’d known kissing Jenna wasn’t right. It might not be today, either.
Seth was willing to wait, because he had a feeling his relationship with Jenna could bloom into something amazing, the same way the Edible Neighborhood could.
“Thank you, Ruth,” she said, and Seth blinked his way out of his thoughts.
“Yes,” he said. “Thanks so much.” He picked up his folder. “I’ll get the mailers out on Monday, and I’ll send you a digital copy for the email list too. You’re still okay to send them?”
“Yes,” she said. “I’ve got a few new emails too, from the Parkers who moved in on the corner.”
“Great,” he said.
“They’re here,” Ruth said. “If you wanted to meet them.” She scanned the crowd. “Or they were…”
“It’s okay,” Seth said, his stomach growling and his anticipation to be alone with Jenna growing. “There will be time to meet everyone, I’m sure.” Her house was starting to empty, and Seth edged toward the door too.
“Who’s the donor?” Ruth asked before he could go.
He exchanged a glance with Jenna as he turned back to her. “Uh, it’s me, Ruth. I’m the donor.”
Her eyebrows went up. “I thought you decided the project was too expensive for you.”
He cleared his throat, glad his mother had already taken a loaf of cherry walnut bread and left through the front door. “I recently came into some money.”
“And this is what you want to spend it on?” Ruth looked back and forth between him and Jenna.
“The Edible Neighborhood is important to him,” Jenna said, coming to his rescue. She gave Ruth a smile and asked her about her grandchildren in San Antonio. That got the woman talking about something else, and Seth’s body warmed with how well he and Jenna worked together.
Finally out the door and in the safety of his truck, he sighed. “Wow. Thanks so much for everything you did in there.”
“Yeah, I totally charmed them,” she said, laughing.
“You did.” He buckled his seatbelt and got the truck moving. “I’m starving. Did we decide on a place?”
She took a few moments to answer, and when she did, she asked, “Is it too hot to get something to go and drive over to the lake?”
He glanced at the screen in the middle of his console. “It’s eighty-four degrees.”
“Is that a yes or a no?”
Seth wouldn’t choose to eat outside with the temperature that high, but he wanted Jenna to be happy. And a romantic lakeside lunch sounded perfect. “It’s doable,” he said.
“You and the heat,” she said, shaking her head. “But if it’s doable, then let’s go to Crisp’s and get sandwiches. They also have a divine chocolate cake, and I think we’ve earned it.”
“And sugar cookies,” he said. “It sure was nice of Ruth to have all those refreshments.”
“I don’t really like their sugar cookies,” Jenna said.
“Stop it right now,” Seth said, looking at her. “How is that possible?”
“I think they’re dry.” Jenna giggled, and everything male inside him roared to life.
“Well,” he said in a falsely horrified voice. “We’ll agree to disagree.” He actually liked that they didn’t have every little thing in common. Plus, then he wouldn’t have to share his cookie with her.
Seth couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this alive, and he turned on First Street to avoid Main.
“You never drive on Main Street,” she said.
“Not if I can help it,” he said. “Too many tourists.”
“They have an amazing dog store on Main.”
“Really? What kind of stuff do they have?”
“You know, clothes and jackets and stuff.”
He glanced at her, pulling up to a stoplight that crossed Main. “Really? Do my dogs seem like the type of canines that would wear jackets?”
Jenna burst out laughing. “No,” she said. “Not at all. But you know, a bandana or something wouldn’t kill them. Or you.”
The light turned green, and he eased into the intersection. “Okay, point taken.” He thought about the dogs he’d be adopting out next weekend. “Should I get some for the adoptions?”
“Adoptions?”
“I’m having my monthly dog adoption event next weekend,” he said. “I have eight dogs ready for homes.”
“Yes,” she said, her voice growing in volume. “Let’s stop on the way home, and I’ll help you pick them out.”
“You look way too excited about this,” he said, chuckling afterward.
“Oh, come on,” she said. “You have the big bucks now. You can afford some bandanas for your dogs. I guarantee they’ll get adopted faster.”
“You guarantee it?” He laughed then, pulling up to the curb and parking on the street in an available spot about half a block from Crisp’s.
“Fine, I can’t guarantee anything,” she said when they met on the sidewalk. “But I’d totally be more inclined to adopt if I saw a dog wearing a bandana.”
“You would not,”
he said, threading his fingers through hers. “You don’t even like dogs.”
“I love dogs, I’ll have you know,” she said. “But I have Apples and Gypsy. We don’t have room for dogs.”
Seth shook his head, enjoying this flirty, fun conversation. “How many rooms do you have in that house?”
“Too many,” she said, and the mood changed.
He squeezed her hand. “I’ll bet.” They walked the rest of the way to Crisp’s in silence, and Seth liked that he could exist with just the two of them, no words needed.
“I miss my mom the most,” she said as they stood in the to-go line. “I mean, I miss Dad too, but he died so long ago. Mom’s death is just more…fresh.”
Seth nodded, though he couldn’t comprehend her feelings. He still had both of his parents, and she didn’t have even one. “Sometimes life is unfair,” he said.
“Is it ever,” Jenna said. “Thankfully, there’s chocolate cake on the really bad days.” She leaned into his side, and Seth put his arm around her. She didn’t seem to mind showing the world that they were together, and Seth glanced around the restaurant. If even one person saw them, the whole town was likely to know about the relationship.
Yes, thousands of tourists came to town every year, but that didn’t mean the local rumor mill didn’t operate at top speed. Lois Lundy caught Seth’s eye, and he lifted his chin as a way to say hello.
Inwardly, he groaned. Lois knitted, same as his mother, and he estimated he had twenty minutes before his mother knew who his new girlfriend was.
Girlfriend rang like a gong in his head. Was Jenna his girlfriend? He wasn’t interested in anyone else, that was for sure. But he wasn’t sure when that status was reached for him. He’d never talked about it with Wendy. They’d dated for a year before he’d asked her to marry him, and that was that.
“What are you getting?” Jenna asked, turning toward him.
“The ultimate bacon club,” he said. “Double the bacon. Double the meat.”
She looked aghast, and he laughed. “What about you? Something veggie or something?”
“Ew, no,” she said. “Probably just the turkey provolone. It has this sauce on it I like.”
“Yeah, I’ve had that,” he said.
Jenna sucked in a breath and stepped in front of him, practically hiding herself and using him as a shield. “There’s a first grade teacher over there,” she hissed.
“Yeah, and Lois Lundy just stared me down,” Seth said. “My mother will know we’re here in about five seconds.”
Jenna turned and looked at him, the space between him and the family in front of them almost non-existent. She was close enough to kiss, that was for sure. Way closer than she’d been last night.
“Do we care about that?” she asked.
“I don’t,” Seth said quickly. “I already told my mom I was seeing someone. I just didn’t say who.”
Jenna looked over to someone, but Seth didn’t know everyone and their occupations. “It’s not a secret.”
“Definitely not,” he said. At least he didn’t want their relationship to be a secret. Why would they need to do that anyway?
Jenna moved back to his side, deliberately placing her hand in his, and smiled up at him. He grinned down at her, wishing they were alone so he could kiss her. This felt like a good time, but he absolutely wasn’t going to kiss her in a restaurant full of people.
Nope. Not happening.
The first kiss between them hadn’t felt real—almost like it was an accident. A whim. An impulse. The next time he did it, it wasn’t going to be rushed or public. So not here. Not now.
“Next,” the girl at the register said, and Seth stepped up to order their sandwiches, cake, and “Two sugar cookies, please.”
“I don’t want one,” Jenna said.
Seth gave her an innocent smile. “I didn’t order one for you.”
“You’re going to eat two of those?” She shook her head, but she laughed in the next moment. “Gross.”
He laughed while he paid, and he and Jenna moved to the bench to wait for their lunch. He took her hand in his and lifted it to his lips, catching her eye before ducking his head and hiding behind his cowboy hat.
Heat flared through his neck and face, and he said nothing. But surely she knew how he felt about her, and that those feelings were starting to deepen and grow. She had to know, because he wasn’t good at hiding them. He might not be able to vocalize them, but he felt them streaming out of him, so she must as well.
His phone chimed, and he pulled it from his pocket. His mother had texted, and he groaned. “Here we go.”
“Who is it?”
“My mother.” The phone rang in the next instant, and he wondered how in the world she’d expected him to read and answer her text so fast.
Jenna was grinning at him like she found something highly amusing. “Answer it.”
“I’m not answering it,” he said, swiping the call off.
“She’s just going to call back.”
“No, she’ll get the hint,” he said, though he suspected Jenna was right. He started typing out a response to her text—you’re seeing Jenna Wright?—but another call came in and his finger landed on the green phone icon, opening the call.
“Seth?” he heard his mother say through the line, and he sighed. Beside him, Jenna started giggling, and he lifted the phone to his ear so his mother wouldn’t say something to further embarrass him.
Chapter Ten
Jenna leaned back on her elbows, her face toward the sun. A sigh moved through her lips, and she said, “I love this lake.”
“Mm,” Seth said from beside her. He’d said little more than “yes” and “no” to his mother while they waited for their sandwiches. Once they’d gotten their food and returned to the truck, the awkwardness between them had evaporated. She’d entertained him with stories about Liz Belmont’s first graders—and the teacher herself—on the way to the lake.
Sunshine was Jenna’s love language, and she loved being outside, even in the heat. Well, and with a slice of chocolate cake, everything was better. Even something that was already great, like Seth Johnson.
The sound of the waves coming ashore intensified, and she opened her eyes. A boat must’ve gone by, and the wake had finally reached shore. They sat above the lake, on the grass overlooking the beach below. The noise of children and splashing water filled the air too, and Jenna enjoyed that as well.
She couldn’t believe Seth hadn’t been emotional about not having kids. Deep down, she knew there were other ways to have children, should she decide she really wanted one. She’d derailed the thoughts any time they’d come that day, because she and Seth had barely taken their first step on the journey toward love, marriage, and family.
One date, she’d been reminding herself. They’d been on one date, and she wasn’t even sure it counted, because they hadn’t left his house.
One kiss, she’d told herself too. And it wasn’t even a real kiss, because she hadn’t even seen it coming. Seth had not even tried to kiss her again, and she’d started to think she’d hallucinated the first one in the hospital.
One day at a time. When she’d finalized her divorce and come home to Chestnut Springs, that was how she’d gotten through the days. One at a time. Her mother had been ill, her life shattered. But she’d survived.
Beside her, Seth snored softly, and she looked over at him. Fondness for the man filled her, especially watching him sleep. He seemed so peaceful, so carefree. Oh-so-handsome.
But they’d been at the lake for an hour already, and the cowboy couldn’t just sleep the afternoon away, even if he was a billionaire. Not only that, but he’d get sunburnt if she let him sleep much longer.
“Come on, cowboy,” she said, nudging him. “Time to get up and take me home.”
Seth startled, his eyes flying open. He pulled in a stiff breath, and their eyes met. “Oh, hey, pretty girl.”
“No sweet talking,” she said, giggling. “It’s time t
o get up. You’ve got work to do.”
He groaned. “I always have work to do.”
“I know.” She didn’t have anything to do, and she actually was going to take a nap. It had been a productive day, but her mind was exhausted with all the circling it had done about Seth. She got to her feet and extended her hand to help him up. He took her hand, but he could’ve just as easily pulled her down as stand himself.
Once he was on his feet, he gathered up the trash and stuffed it all in the Crisp’s bag. He really had eaten those two disgusting sugar cookies. No wonder he’d passed out soon afterward. They walked back to the truck, and Jenna felt like a princess with her cowboy boyfriend at her side.
“What do you need me to do for the Edible Neighborhood?” she asked as he started back toward their neck of the woods.
“Nothing.” He yawned. “I have the flyers on my computer. I’ll just get the dates changed and everything and get them printed. We can deliver them anytime after that.”
“Monday night?”
“Sure,” he said. “Monday night.”
Jenna smiled and looked out the passenger window. Everything with Seth felt so easy. Of course, she knew it wouldn’t be, not forever. She’d felt this level of ease and comfort with Marcus too, and that relationship had ended in disaster.
Sometimes things changed, and sometimes she couldn’t even identify when they had. Only that one morning she’d woken up and found her husband packing a bag.
She buried the thoughts again, because they had no right to stain her present or her future.
“Here we are,” Seth said, easing to a stop in her driveway.
Jenna got out of the truck, a little surprised when Seth did too. Her pulse started blipping through her body, faster and faster. Was he going to kiss her? Could she kiss him?
“So I’ll see you Monday night,” he said as they started climbing the steps to the front door.
“Yeah,” she said. “And you’re volunteering on Tuesday in second grade. The background check cleared, thank goodness.” She gave him a coy smile, pleased when he ducked his head and chuckled.
Everything about this man made her happy, and she reached up and took off his cowboy hat. The world around them stilled. “I could come help with the dog adoptions,” she said. “Oh, we forgot to get bandanas.”
