Livy’s beauty was simple and effortless. She wore a little bit of makeup, just enough to highlight a natural radiance about her, and she probably didn’t even know it.
Aunt Bea kept her distance, busy dusting the bookcase across the lobby. Thank God for that, but Jack had no doubt she was paying attention.
“Good morning.” He beamed as they met at the bottom of the stairs.
“Jack! What are you doing here?” Her cheeks blushed at the sight of him, making his breath catch.
“I unexpectedly found myself with the day off. Thought I’d chance it that you would be up for breakfast.” He fidgeted with the truck key in his hands.
“That sounds wonderful. What a treat!” She touched his arm, her fingers as cool as the morning air on his skin. Together they made their way toward the front door.
“Sleep well last night?” Livy asked.
“It took a while to fall asleep.” Was her mind as full as his after they’d said goodnight? “But yes, thanks. You?”
“Actually, I crashed right away.” She paused and reached out her hand. “But I had wonderful dreams.”
Jack’s fingers wrapped around hers. They said goodbye to Aunt Bea, who gave them a quick wave and giggle.
Together in his truck again, Jack caught himself staring at Livy as she settled in the seat and buckled her seatbelt. The moment lingered only a second before he started the truck, but that’s all it took for Jack’s heart to respond.
“I couldn’t wait to see you again.” Stretching his arm along the back of the seat, his fingers found the end of her braid in short order and gave it a playful tug.
She sighed. “No complaints here.”
After a short, meandering drive through the misty mountain morning on a few back roads, they pulled up to the rustic Blue Bird Café. An old wooden sign hanging from rusty chains over the porch swayed in a gentle breeze. The café was no bigger than a small family home, but the pebble-covered parking lot held at least two dozen cars.
“I hope we can get a table.” Livy scrunched up her nose.
“It holds more folks than you’d think. This is actually a light crowd.”
Together they walked up a rickety ramp to the screen door, which Jack held open for Livy.
“Be right with ya.” A waitress with fiery red hair and a blue-checkered apron passed without looking at them, hands full of plates of food. Oh, great. Mary Sue, a friend of Claire’s, had been quite vocal about siding with his ex-wife. He had no idea she worked here now. She tossed a rag into a plastic tub behind the waitress stand and stared.
“Well, look who’s here. Mr. Perfect.” Her hip jutted out, lips pursed and pencil-drawn eyebrows arched. Her cold, sable eyes took in Livy’s entire body, head to toe.
“It’ll just be the two of us today. A booth if you have it.” Jack gritted his teeth. He had absolutely no intention of taking the bitter woman’s bait.
Mary Sue yanked the menus from the waitress stand with a scraping sound that grated through his middle. Why did she even care that much? God only knew what Claire had told her. But he wasn’t the one who had broken any wedding vows.
Jack and Livy followed the woman to a booth in the main dining room. The menus slapped as they hit the table, and Livy’s wide green eyes met Jack’s.
“I’ll send someone else over to get your order.” Mary Sue directed the statement to Livy with a fake, quick smile that clenched Jack’s fist tight on top of the table. This wasn’t even about her.
“Thanks very much,” Livy responded with a genuine smile to the woman who’d been nothing but rude to them both. Jack chuckled to himself, looking back at Mary Sue. The waitress huffed loudly, turned sharply, and marched back toward the kitchen.
“Well, that was awkward. I’m so sorry.” Jack rubbed his hand over a scruffy cheek.
“It’s fine. But I’m guessing there’s a story there.”
“Pretty simple, really. Mary Sue is Claire’s best friend. She never liked me, I don’t think. She even used to tell me in front of Claire that I didn’t deserve her. I’m not really sure where that came from, but we never got along. Then, when the divorce happened, Mary Sue made it perfectly clear that she blamed me for pushing Claire into someone else’s arms. She and I have had strong words with each other a few times. I’ve not seen her in over a year, though.”
“I’m sorry. It’s a shame people take sides when they don’t know the whole story.” Jack sensed Livy spoke from experience from the way she shook her head while peering down at the menu.
“Exactly. But no need to let it stop us from enjoying the best breakfast in the county.” Jack exhaled a deep breath, as if it could clear the negativity Mary Sue had left at their table. However, in the back of his mind, he had a feeling this unfortunate run-in with Claire’s friend wouldn’t end here.
About half an hour later, Livy sat back into the vinyl-cushioned booth, cupping her coffee mug with both hands. “Well, we’ve about covered everything under the sun.” The pleasant woman who’d waited on them after Mary Sue had just cleared their empty plates. Over the scrumptious meal, Jack and Livy learned all sorts of tidbits about each other, such as her hatred for olives and his allergy to pineapple.
“Mind if I ask you a more serious question?” Jack searched Livy for any sign of discomfort, but her posture remained easy, her face relaxed.
“Sure. If it’s too serious, I just won’t answer.” Her laugh pulled Jack from staying lost in her gaze—again.
“Fair enough.” Jack sat up and rested his elbows on the table. “What are you most scared of?”
“Besides rats?” Livy’s nose wrinkled, and they laughed. Her smile faded, and she searched the bottom of her coffee cup. “I think I’m most scared of not finding myself again.” Her eyes had lost some of their brightness when she looked up.
Though Jack had heard the story of her relationship already, Livy’s sense of being lost became even more clear. A feeling he knew all too well.
“What part is still missing?”
Livy sat up to the edge of the table, took the last sip, and set the cup down so slowly and gently that it made no sound. Everything else in the small café faded into the background as Jack focused on Livy’s words.
“I moved to New York after graduating college as an artist with a hunger for independence and adventure. My parents supported me and told me I could do anything. I believed it without a doubt.”
“They sound a lot like my folks.” Had her parents struggled to watch their daughter lose the confidence they had worked hard to build? Jack hadn’t known Livy nearly as long or as well, but he could see it, and it sure bothered him.
“Then I arrived and the city was so different from what I expected.” Livy’s eyes fixed on something out the window, like they had in the coffee shop when she’d told him about Sam. “It was harsh and unforgiving. It chewed me up and spit me out. Well, I don’t know if it was the city itself, or maybe it was Sam preventing the city from being accessible to me.”
Jack reached across the table and placed his hand over hers, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Either way, before I knew it, I let other people and circumstances convince me I was someone other than that adventurous artist who knew she was destined for great things. I lost her.” Livy’s eyes brimmed with tears as she found Jack’s face for just a moment. He handed her his handkerchief.
She took it and dabbed at the corners of her eyes. “It’s like those dishes.” She pointed to a table scattered with dishes topped with scraps of food, used silverware, and crumpled napkins from a large party that had just left. “There are traces of the whole meal that was originally neatly arranged on the plate. But now all you see are crumbs and smears and unfinished pieces of the whole.” She straightened and turned to face the window. Her hardened expression mirrored his own outlook following his messy divorce. A long moment of silence filled the space between them.
Jack panned the room for Mary Sue, feeling tense about what the bitter woman might be
up to. He found her near the front door talking to another waitress, her back turned to him. The other woman looked past Mary Sue’s shoulder in Jack’s direction. He and Livy were undoubtedly the topic of conversation. Anger rose up inside him. His jaw tensed, and he inhaled a deep breath to remain calm. Running into Mary Sue, of all people, wasn’t going to do him any favors.
“Oh, Jack, I’m so sorry.” As if she just realized how somber the mood had turned, she handed back his handkerchief. “I didn’t mean to be so depressing. I really know how to show a guy a good time, huh?”
“As a matter of a fact, you do.” Jack reached across the table and took her hand. “You can always tell me what you’re feeling. I can relate more than you know. After the incident with Claire, I lost all faith in the decency of people. If someone I had chosen to spend my life with could be so different than I thought she was, how could I trust anyone? So, I guess I’m most afraid of trusting someone and getting hurt again.” He squeezed her hand, and she squeezed back.
There was no need to label their new relationship, just budding like the early leaves of spring. It was nice, though, to share some of his deepest feelings. Maybe she could help him get over his fear of trusting. Maybe he could help her find a way back to herself, too.
“So, what’s your favorite color?” Jack asked, looking back to Livy and pretending to be perfectly serious. Livy let out a loud belly laugh that was as uninhibited and joyful as when she was a child.
A few minutes later, after some lighter conversation, they decided to head out.
“I’ve got to warn you,” Jack said as Livy pulled on her coat. “Mary Sue has been eyeing us the whole morning. She seems pretty worked up about us being together. She may say something on our way out. Try to ignore her and don’t let it bother you, okay?”
“Small town folks, huh?” Her weary smile was crooked with worry.
Jack paid the check at the small counter near the door. He tipped the rim of his hat in Mary Sue’s direction on the way out. Her rudeness would not prevent him from remaining a gentleman. Although his gesture was met with narrowed eyes and a loud humph, she thankfully didn’t say anything else as they passed her out the door.
“Do you mind if we check out that small antique place we saw on our way in?” Livy’s eyes sparkled with excitement. Holding his hand, she climbed into the passenger seat.
“Sure. That sounds fun.” He closed her door and chuckled. It was so easy to make her happy.
After the short drive around the bend, Jack pulled the truck off the road into a narrow, grassy lot beside a renovated barn. They said nothing as they walked hand in hand toward the shop naturally, as if they’d done it for years.
Inside, antiques crowded the old barn so tightly that a narrow walkway only allowed for one person at a time. Jack guided Livy with a hand on the small of her back. They admired a section of old fixtures—drawer pulls, hooks, lights with beautifully shaped glass globes. There were rows of rusted iron décor, other small handcrafted furniture, collectible records, longneck Pepsi bottles, and even old metal gas station signs.
“I’ll remember this place when it’s time to decorate the house,” Livy said once they had made their way to the back. She thumbed through a pile of weathered postcards of the Appalachian Mountains, Blue Ridge Parkway, Biltmore Estate, and other local attractions.
“I didn’t even ask yesterday if you planned to work today.” Jack eased up behind her, leaning in to talk softly. Another sigh escaped Livy before she answered. “Since it’s my day off, I’d gladly come and help in any way I can.”
“That’d be great, but the last thing you want to do on your day off is get all dirty.”
Jack raised his eyebrows playfully, as if shocked by her accidental suggestiveness.
“Oh, you know what I mean, Jack!” Livy swatted at him.
He raised both hands, professing his innocence. “I’m hardly ever lazy when I’m off work. I actually prefer to have something to do. Plus, doing just about anything with you sounds great.”
Jack’s cell phone rang. He answered it, and after a moment, whispered to Livy, “It’s the guy with the trash container. He wants to drop it off around noon. That okay?”
Livy nodded. Jack finished securing the plans and hung up.
“This is great! It’s ten o’clock, so that gives us plenty of time,” Livy exclaimed as they made their way to the front of the store. Jack thanked the owner, a wrinkled old man who hadn’t moved from behind a newspaper at the front counter since they’d come in.
“Oh my goodness!”
Jack turned at the sound of Livy’s excitement. She stood in front of an old artist’s easel that held a tacky oil painting of an owl.
“Is the easel for sale?” Livy called back to the man behind the counter.
When the man didn’t answer, Jack reached behind it and held up a price tag.
“This is perfect. I’ve been looking for one with a heavy wooden frame for years. They’re hard to find.” She ran her fingers over the wood covered in countless layers of paint. “Who knows how many paintings were done on this one easel…” Her voice trailed off. “I hope it’s still here when the house is finished, and maybe it can be my reward to myself.”
Jack placed a hand on her shoulder. He didn’t know much about art, but it looked like a good and sturdy easel. Livy seemed to be in her true element as an artist. While he built with his hands, he never considered himself creative. He’d love to watch her paint. Why did that thought feel intimate? She reached up and patted his hand, making him realize just how close they stood.
They thanked the owner again. The man offered a silent wave from behind the paper, and they left.
“Want to go back to the inn and get anything before we head to the house?” Jack asked Livy, starting toward Main Street.
“Yeah, my tools and coveralls are in the back of the car.”
“Coveralls? Mmm … very attractive.” It was natural for Jack to be playful, and she brought it out in him.
“Hey, don’t knock ‘em! I used to wear them to paint and figured they’d be perfect to work in. They were great yesterday, Mr. Funny Man.” She swatted his arm. “But I’ll need to find a Laundromat in the next day or so because my other clothes won’t last long without a good wash.”
Why hadn’t he thought of that sort of need before? He knew the inn didn’t have laundry facilities. “You’re welcome to use my washer and dryer. Why don’t you grab whatever else you need to be washed and I’ll bring you back to my place when we’re done at the house? If you’re up for changing plans a little, we can move our date to tonight and I can cook something for dinner.” The thought of welcoming Livy into his home created a swirl of excitement and curiosity. In fact, he’d never invited a woman back to his home—besides friends, of course. Yet, the instinct was natural with Livy.
“Are you sure, Jack? You’re doing so much for me already and that’ll take up your whole evening off, too.”
“Believe me,” Jack replied, a little more serious this time. “There’s nothing else I’d rather do than spend the whole day with you.”
Livy let out a sigh as he held her gaze. “Then it’s a date. A laundry and dinner date.”
CHAPTER
Ten
T he dresser mirror reflected a happy woman. For the first time in Livy’s life, being vulnerable hadn’t come with the price tag of weakness. I’m safe with Jack. Though their stories were different, he understood the struggle of overcoming a broken heart. And, mercy, the chemistry between them was like lightning crossing between two summer storm clouds. Electric. She smiled and tossed her perfume in her bag.
With her laundry bag and a dress for dinner in hand, Livy headed downstairs and back out to the porch. Jack leaned against the truck hood with eyes closed and arms folded across his chest, facing the warm sun. The strong lines of his jaw, muscular arms, slightly tapered waist, and long legs all screamed of strength. Livy let out a breathy sigh punctuated with an audible whimper. Her hand fle
w to her mouth.
“Ready to go?” With eyes still closed, Jack’s cheeks dimpled and the corners of his eyes wrinkled.
“Uh, sure.” Smooth. Real smooth.
“I do believe you were staring, Miss Johnson,” he whispered when she approached. His drawl was thick, the way tea grew more potent the longer it steeped. He lazily pushed off the truck and reached for her laundry bag, effortlessly tossing it in the truck bed.
“Was not.”
Standing face to face at the passenger door, he paused with a grip on the handle before opening it. His lips met her ear. “Was.”
She melted into the seat. He could teach a class on how to flirt.
By the time Jack pulled up the driveway of Gram’s house, their small talk had allowed Livy’s heartbeat the chance to slow to a normal rate.
“What’s your favorite memory of the house?” A strong floral scent welcomed them through the truck’s open windows. Livy studied the house and thought back to her childhood.
“Time in the garden with Gram.” Her throat tightened, although she wasn’t sad. “I remember the rainbow of colors and fragrances. The red and white and pink roses. The bright hibiscus. The climbing vines with little white buds along the fence—honeysuckle, maybe? The tall bush on the side of the house with bright orange flowers. The multicolored pansies under the kitchen window. And all of that was just in the front and side yards.”
In her mind’s eye she could see the beautiful yard in its prime. All her senses enlivened by vibrant colors, velvet petals, and sweet scents. But now all that remained was a neglected, weed-infested space.
She turned to Jack. “Do you remember the row of tomato and pepper plants up against the house in the backyard?”
“Yeah, I sure do. She grew the best tomatoes.”
“And the large garden bed lined with white stones across from that housed vegetables.” She pointed to the left side of the house as she imagined it. “Her clothesline hung between the tomatoes and that other bed. I would follow her along the line, handing her clothespins as she hung up clothes or taking them from her as she pulled them down, usually right before a rainstorm. Gram always forgot she had clothes drying. Guess I get that from her.” Livy chuckled.
Someplace Familiar (Laurel Cove Romance Book 1) Page 10
