“Nah, that’s the shrimp.” He joked, attempting to clear his own head after having her so near him. “I’ve just got to throw these skewers on the grill back there.” Jack pointed toward a built-in grill top on one side of the stove. “A few minutes and we’ll be ready.”
After Jack offered a quick blessing over their meal, Livy took the first bite of shrimp, closing her eyes and letting out a moan. “Jack, this is so delicious. I’m very impressed.”
“I’m glad you like it. I really enjoy cooking.”
“Well, besides my mama’s spaghetti, I don’t have many skills in the kitchen. I may have to start practicing.” Livy devoured another bite of shrimp.
Jack wrinkled his nose. “I remember a rather, um, unfortunate treat you made one day when we were kids.”
Livy shook her head and covered her mouth with a hand. “Oh, no. What was it? Back then, I watched Gram cook and thought I could do anything she could.”
“Well, I’m not exactly sure what was in it, but you called it a cake.” He nearly choked on a hearty laugh. “You made it for my birthday just after the Fourth of July, remember?”
Her eyes flew open. “Oh, I remember now! I slaved over that cake all morning after you’d told me at the parade that you were turning eleven. But you acted like you loved it. Was it very bad?” The way she bit her bottom lip, waiting for his answer, melted a hard space deep within him.
“Well, I imagine there’s got to be someone out there who enjoys the flavors of raw orange peel and crushed cinnamon bark in their rubbery cakes. But to this day, I gag at the slightest hint of cinnamon.” He waved his hand across the table in a matter-of-fact way, holding a straight face.
“Oh, Jack, honestly.” Her arms lay crossed on the table, head cocking to one side. And her loud laughter traveled through the empty spaces of the house he’d been alone in all this time. That laugh. The same laugh from those summer days of tire swings and wading in cold creeks.
The rest of the conversation remained lively and easy. She told him about New York City, and he shared about designing nightmares for difficult homebuilders. They compared Livy’s upbringing on the farm outside Raleigh to Jack’s in Laurel Cove. Despite a few differences, they had a lot in common. They both grew up going to church, loved classic rock, yearned to travel, and preferred snow to the beach.
Jack stood to clear the table long after they’d finished. “I think I’ll make a fire. I hope you’ll stay a little longer.”
“That sounds perfect. Plus, I need to dry my clothes.” Livy giggled.
“Oh, right, that.” He’d forgotten her laundry, but was glad for the reason.
After stepping away to tend to her clothing, she rejoined him on the couch, pulling her feet under her. “I’ve got a crazy question.”
“What’s that?” Jack poked the firewood as it caught the small starter flame.
She scrunched up her nose, which he’d come to recognize as a sign of embarrassment. “Would you care to loan me a pair of socks? My feet are freezing. I didn’t even think about shoes with this outfit.”
“Oh, of course.” That’s adorable. He grabbed a pair from his room.
“Thanks, Jack.” She slid them on.
The comfortable couch faced the stone fireplace. His outstretched arm across the back cushion invited her to lean against him. Together they watched the growing, crackling fire for several moments in silence.
“You know, I had quite the crush on you all those years ago.” Jack danced his fingers along the curve of her shoulder.
She turned to look at him and smiled. “You did?”
“Oh sure. My first real crush. After spending almost every day together that summer, then having to say goodbye, I realized I missed you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you and wondering how you were and what you were doing. That whole year I waited, hoping you’d visit again.”
“I never knew that, Jack. That’s so sweet.” Livy’s hand rested on his right leg.
“Sweet, maybe, but tortured, too.” He dropped his head against the cushion and let out a low chuckle. “I had myself so worked up when I heard your grandmother tell my mom at church that you’d only be visiting a few weeks the next summer. I tried real hard to figure out how I’d see you since we’d moved across town.”
“That summer we first met and hung out was great.” Livy’s voice was soft and tender, almost melodious as she looked back at the now-full fire. “But I have to admit I’m surprised you have such long-lasting memories from that time. We were so young. I remember you happily, of course, but it seems to go deeper for you.”
“Maybe so.” Jack sat up straighter so he could look into her green eyes, which reflected the dancing flames. “But, to me, you were the most magical girl. You imagined things I couldn’t see in my mind without your help. You saw the beauty in everything. You made me feel like I was the bravest kid you’d ever met when you would ask me to take you on an adventure through what you called your mountain. And you were the first girl I’d ever noticed to be cute. I loved the freckles on your nose that came out when we’d been in the sun too long.” He traced the curve of her nose with a finger. “And the way your two front teeth had a little gap in between them, and the way you’d pretend to talk to the flowers like your grandma did.”
“Jack, you really are too sweet.” She looked away from him, her eyes fixed on the fire instead. Why was it so difficult for her to receive his compliments?
“Do you believe me?” Jack placed his hand over hers.
“Oh, sure.”
Jack didn’t buy it. He reached for her chin so she looked in his eyes. “I’m sorry it’s been so long since you’ve been told how wonderful you are, Olivia.” He traced the line of her jaw. “You were a cute, fun friend back then. And I hope you trust me when I tell you that you are funny, interesting, brave, and an incredibly beautiful woman now.”
Her eyes softened as she listened to his words. It was hard for her to hear such direct admiration, but she was trying.
“I’m sorry.” Her eyes closed as she drew in a deep breath. “The last several months we were together, my ex not only didn’t compliment me, but he criticized everything I did. To be the woman he wanted me to be—more serious, less needy, more driven—I lost the ability to see who I really am.”
Jack’s body tensed. Hearing pain in her cracked voice just about undid him. He wrestled with the impulses to both comfort and defend her.
“But somehow,” she continued, “when I’m around you I feel more like me than I’ve felt in so long. That girl you remember, carefree and imaginative, is what I feel when I paint, too. Full of life. Sam didn’t see that. You make me feel relaxed, encouraged, and…” She paused and looked up, deep into his eyes. “And desired.”
With the warm fire casting shadows on her face, Jack leaned in. The chemistry between them was electric. The moment their lips touched was like cutting through a bag of fine sugar—there was no containing it. Her arms wrapped around his neck, holding on tight.
Her lips tasted of sweet summer fruit. His hands slid down the subtle curve of her frame to her small waist, and his mouth moved to her neck. Livy wove her fingers through his hair, encouraging him. Their quickened breaths mixed with the snapping fire.
All of a sudden, Jack came to his senses. He needed a breather if there was any chance at keeping control. As much as he wanted to lose control with Livy—and boy, did he—she deserved to be pursued honorably. He pushed away and sat at the end of the couch with his head in his hands, leaving her panting.
She scooted next to him, placing her hand on his thigh. Not helping. “What happened?”
He took a deep breath, rubbed his face a few times with both hands to sober up, and looked at her.
“I was getting to that point of no return,” he managed.
“Oh.” Livy broke out in a wide grin.
“Yeah.” He smiled back, letting out a long sigh. He took a few more deep breaths. “There is something special about you, Livy. I want to do thi
s right. I don’t want to rush into anything—for both our sakes. I’ve done that before and it didn’t work. I’m not willing to risk that with you, even if it has only been a week. If God has plans for us together, I want to honor Him every step of the way.”
She moved to the edge of the coffee table in front of him and looked him in the eyes. When she placed a hand on each of his knees, a pounding thundered in his chest.
“You are the gentlest, most decent man I know, Jack Bowdon. You are also the sexiest man I know.”
“Livy.” Jack’s voice was low and gruff. “You’re playing with fire.”
She threw her hands up, claiming innocence. This confidence he saw through her teasing was only more attractive. It gave him a glimpse into what she was like without being held back by insecurities. And he liked it, very much.
After a long moment of studying one another, Livy spoke. “Take me on an adventure, Jack. Let’s see where we end up.”
This woman amazed him more and more every minute. He gave her one slow, sensual kiss. “You got it.”
***
Livy floated up the stairs of the inn to her room, reveling in the sweet things Jack had said and the tender kisses they’d shared. And entering Room 12 was like coming home. She readied for bed and set out clothes for the next morning. Jack had invited her to attend church with him, and she couldn’t wait. Soon, she laid her head on the pillow, drowsy with happy thoughts.
In the blink of an eye, she was standing on the street looking up at her New York City apartment. It towered above her, the top floors disappearing into stormy clouds. Behind her honking taxis raced by, passengers yelling things at her.
“You’re no good for him.”
“Better give up now, sweetheart.”
“He’s just like any other man.”
When she spun around to argue, there was Sam, cell phone held up to an ear. “You’ll never amount to anything, just like I’ve always told you.” His words sounded crackled, as if spoken through a bad phone connection. She turned to retreat up the steps of the apartment, only to find Gram’s cottage. Worse off than she’d found it a few weeks ago, it reeked of decay and moaned under the weight of thick vines overtaking every inch of the home. Hot tears streamed down Livy’s face as the house imploded before her.
And there was Sam, next to her again with phone in hand. “You can’t rebuild a life that’s beyond repair. It doesn’t work that way.” Livy covered her ears with both hands, sobs wracking her body until she crumbled to the ground.
When she opened her eyes again, she was back in Room 12. Her pillow was damp from real tears, her chest still heaving with shallow pants. And in what seemed like the length of a single heartbeat, the still-tender wounds left by Sam’s unkindness were ripped open. She ached with an unsettling doubt, her excitement from the lovely night with Jack crushed under the weight of renewed uncertainty.
She went to the bathroom for a drink of water and stared at her puffy face reflected in the mirror. Is Jack really as nice as he seems? Can it be this easy? What if I let him in and he hurts me, too? The whisperings of doubt continued as she climbed back into bed, nagging until sleep finally came in the earliest hours of a new day.
CHAPTER
Twelve
A radiant sun worked to burn off the remaining morning haze settled in the Blue Ridge valleys. Despite the rays of sunlight, Livy’s heart was as heavy as the fog. Her car parted a dense patch of the mist with ease as she approached Laurel Cove Fellowship Church. Last night’s dream and all the terrible things said left her shaky and vulnerable.
She spotted Jack and Jen on the front lawn, children running around them. He was dashing in navy blue pants, a crisp white button-up shirt, and light blue tie. Livy’s stomach ached from the knots inside.
She steered the car into a vacant spot toward the back of the almost full church lot. Weary eyes stared back at her in the rearview mirror as she applied lip-gloss. The forced, toothy smile she rehearsed before reaching for the door handle earned a half-hearted laugh. The moment of self-inflicted brevity lightened her mood. She knew one thing, she appreciated being at church. It’d been too long since she’d heard a sermon and studied God’s word.
“Morning, Livy. We’re so glad you’re here.” Jen’s deep southern drawl was as welcoming as the organ music coming from the open doors of the quaint sanctuary.
“Thanks so much. It’s good to be back.” Livy kept a few feet between her and Jack, afraid that her doubt and worry might be contagious. She offered a tender smile to greet him good morning. Plus, how close was too close in the middle of the church crowd? He returned the smile and closed the gap between them in one long stride so his shoulder brushed hers. She drew in a sharp breath. Why? It’s not like he was the one diseased by an inner turmoil.
“Well, I best run along and make sure Owen’s tie isn’t sticking up out of his robe again.” Jen winked at Jack before excusing herself and heading up the front steps.
Jack turned to Livy and held her elbow. “You look nice. Blue really makes your eyes pop.” The compliment sounded as sincere as the soft kiss on her cheek, his freshly-shaven face smoother than the night before. And yet, it didn’t reconcile the raging battle between her worries and her hopes.
“Everything okay?” Jack’s head cocked to one side, and his eyes narrowed.
Oh, how she both hated and savored his ability to see inside to the place that suffered. Church bells clanged from the steeple, signaling the start of the service. “Yes. I’m fine. Shall we find a seat?” Livy avoided holding his gaze for more than a second and nodded toward the sanctuary. But she wasn’t fine. She was terrified that he’d see right through her and realize he wasn’t interested in being with someone who was such an emotional mess. The lump in her throat burned, threatening to choke her with feelings that punched and scratched and wrestled inside. She held her purse so tight to her side she could feel the outline of her keys through the leather.
Thankfully, Jack didn’t push any further, but led her inside to a pew halfway down the aisle. The old chapel smelled of wood polish and fresh flowers. The same as Livy remembered, its scent calmed her nerves enough that she was able to compose herself. There was also something very comforting being where her memories of Gram were so vivid. If she closed her eyes, she could almost feel Gram’s polyester suit brush her arm.
Following Owen’s brief welcome, the congregation stood for the first song. Jack held open a hymnal between them. Unable to find her voice, Livy listened for a verse then dared to lift her eyes from the page and watched Jack sing. His deep voice captivated her. On the last chord he looked over and winked, sending her heart soaring without permission. The simple gesture was a chisel to the hard exterior she’d erected. The song ended, and as they sat, Jack casually settled his arm along the edge of the pew behind her and gave her shoulder a small squeeze.
Following a few announcements and an adorable rendition of “Jesus Loves Me” by the small children’s choir, Owen stepped to the front of the altar. He proceeded to deliver an encouraging message about the grace God extends to all of His people.
“Let’s consider this passage from 2 Corinthians.” He held up a burgundy Bible. “It says, ‘Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me. But he said to me, My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly for my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.’ Hiding our weaknesses only alienates us from the grace God can show us through the love of others. Don’t limit God’s perfect power by hiding.” Owen was a gifted preacher and spoke without judgment. Livy let the scripture wash over her. It was as if the message was just for her.
My weakness is hard to be thankful for, Lord. It’s really hard to see myself the way You see me. But I want You to be powerful in me. Be powerful in Jack, too, Lord. Heal any hurt he still feels and help me to be a good friend to him.
The old organ bellowed another familiar tune, the offerin
g plates were passed, then Owen stood on the steps in front of his congregation and invited them to pray with him to close the service. Together, they recited the Lord’s Prayer. Livy reached for Jack’s hand and entwined her fingers with his. A smile spread across his face, his eyes still closed in prayer, and her soul swelled with a silent reassurance.
Outside, the sun was bright and high in the sky. Parishioners spilled onto the lawn after shaking the preacher’s hand. Children scattered in delight, happy to stretch legs and lungs. Elderly couples leaned into each other on their way to their cars parked close to the ramp at the end of the sidewalk. Except for the newer vehicles, the scene was identical to years ago with Gram.
“Why don’t y’all head over to our place for lunch?” Owen asked over his shoulder while he buckled a giggling girl into a car seat in the back of their minivan. Jack raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders.
“We’d love to.” We. It just slipped out. Did Jack even notice her use of the word? I should have let him answer. Sam always hated that. But Jack is not Sam. She closed her fist, nails digging into her palm. This roller coaster of emotions had to stop.
They parted ways with the Barnetts and headed toward the back of the lot where their cars were parked just a few spaces from each other.
“So, we’re a we, are we?” Jack didn’t waste any time. He’d noticed.
“I’m sorry I answered for you, Jack. I shouldn’t have done that.” Her cheeks grew warm.
“No, Livy. That’s not what I mean.” His furrowed brow replaced a smile. “I like being the other half of a duo with you. It was fine that you answered.”
Her hand gripped the strap of her purse tightly, eyes closing tight as she turned to face her car. “Oh, okay.” But the doubt nagged at her incessantly. Go away, Sam! Why couldn’t she shake his reverberating voice?
“Livy, will you look at me, please?” Jack’s voice was tender, pleading.
Tears threatened to fall. His hand enveloped hers. After a deep inhale, she turned and met his eyes.
Someplace Familiar (Laurel Cove Romance Book 1) Page 12
