She knew she didn’t love Hawthorne Harbor, didn’t love that she had no opportunities to pursue art in the town, and knew she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she didn’t give herself a chance to go to college and become the artist she hoped she could be.
And so she’d left. Left Bennett here just as his baseball career was blooming. Left everything so she could find out if she was worth something.
The images on the TV didn’t stop, just like her thoughts continued to circle. The vehicles didn’t either. Then a tent went up and the smoke thinned. Interview after interview flashed on the screen, but Jennie had muted the sound.
She’d just finished dinner—a bowl of cereal—when the first crews started leaving the site. So Bennett would call soon. At least text to say he was all right, and ask her how her day had been.
But the evening wore on, turning to night, and her phone didn’t so much as vibrate. Her annoyance turned to anger, and she finally switched off the television and went down the hall to her bedroom, bypassing her art studio, where she and Bennett had shared a few tender moments that morning.
At least she thought they had.
Maybe she’d imagined it all. “Maybe you could call him,” she said to her empty room, wondering if the simple sound of his voice would fill it.
She yawned, her mind sluggish and soft since she’d gotten up so early to meet Glauco. It seemed hard to believe that the meeting had happened this morning. It felt like this day had been a week long, and she felt disconnected from real life,
She crawled into bed, checking her phone one last time to make sure the sound was on and it had battery power. It was and it did, but she just hadn’t gotten any messages.
She thumbed out a few things to Bennett. Hey, I watched a bunch of news coverage on the chemical spill
She erased that. He didn’t need to know that she’d spent her whole day in front of the TV, that she had nothing better to do, that her creative energy she relied on to make art had taken a vacation when the outlet had sparked.
She’d been afraid to admit it to herself, but she’d wandered into the studio a couple of times today during commercial breaks, only to stare at the pile of canvases and wonder when her muse would strike again, dictate what she should paint for the huge wall at Magleby Mansion.
She didn’t need power to paint, but she did need passion, and she didn’t have it.
So she’d returned to the living room and the news, drifting into the kitchen to eat or stare out the window into the backyard. She didn’t go demo at the Mansion, because she couldn’t do much without Bennett, and well, Bennett was miles away, literally and figuratively.
In the end, she didn’t type anything to him, but cradled her phone on its standing charger and pulled the comforter up to her chin.
The moonlight fell through the window in silver rays, and as Jennie contemplated it, she whispered, “It’s okay to like Bennett Patterson.”
She needed to give herself permission, and while she didn’t quite believe it yet, at least her heart wasn’t totally closed to the idea.
* * *
Jennie woke the next morning to the sound of power tools. She sat straight up in bed, her heart hammering like a type of power tool itself.
She clutched the comforter to her chest, wondering what in the world was going on. After grabbing her phone, she saw that it was past nine o’clock.
A man sang in Spanish and a drill went whir, whir, whiiiiir!
All at once, she realized what was going on. “Glauco.” She jumped out of bed and padded in bare feet out of her bedroom and down the hall to the studio.
Sure enough, Glauco bent over the outlet on the far wall, a portable radio balanced on a nearby table blaring Spanish music.
“Glauco,” she said, and he turned toward her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize what time it was.”
“I just came in,” he said. “I hope that was okay. I didn’t see a car.”
“I don’t own—it’s fine,” she said. “Do you want some tea?”
He shook his head and turned back to his work, the conversation apparently over.
Jennie went into the kitchen, where Snowball sat on the counter, a grumpy look on her feline face. Or maybe that was how she looked all the time. Jennie wasn’t sure.
“Hungry, girl?”
The cat meowed, and Jennie fed her, put out fresh water, and set a kettle on the stove. A strange tune met her ears, and it took several seconds for her to realize that it was her phone ringing from down the hall in her bedroom.
She ran to get it, but it silenced when she was only halfway there. “It’s not him,” she told herself, feeling ridiculous and put together wrong for hoping that it would be Bennett calling.
She collected her phone from where she’d left it unceremoniously on the bed and took a deep breath.
Why did she feel like she was back in junior high again, hoping the football star would call her? Only in this case, Bennett had been the baseball superstar.
And he’d called her. A smile erupted across her face, and she was in the middle of deciding if she should call him back or send a text when her phone rang again. Bennett. Again.
“Hey,” she said, maybe a bit breathlessly.
“Morning,” he said. “So listen, I have about sixty seconds before a staff meeting. We had to cancel brunch and I’m working all day today, but what about dinner?”
“Dinner?” Jennie squeaked. That was a step up from brunch. Brunch she could brush off as something friends did. But dinner? Dinner was definitely a date.
“Tonight?” he asked. “About seven-ish?” He didn’t sound injured, only rushed.
“I guess so.”
“Great. I’ll swing by and get you.” And then he was gone, leaving Jennie to wonder what had just happened.
“He asked you out,” she said to herself as she went back into the kitchen to silence the shrieking kettle.
He’d asked her out plenty of times before, but somehow, this time was different. He was forty-three-years-old, and she’d be forty-two in a couple of months. This wasn’t pretend, not that their high school relationship had been.
But this felt more real. A slower smile skated across her lips as she steeped her tea, and she finally allowed herself to be excited to see Bennett that night, about seven-ish.
* * *
Jennie didn’t have her complete mojo back, especially since the metallic scent of the overheated drill bit Glauco had used still hung in the air. But she looked at the sculpture she’d started earlier that day. It was something that had come from her imagination, and right now, after the drought her muse and creativity had been experiencing, she’d take it.
She didn’t know what it was, but the pillar had beautiful lines and curves, and she imagined texturing the whole thing and glazing it with light pinks, blues, and golds.
“Maybe a vase,” she said aloud, the clay on her hands starting to dry. Glauco had nearly finished the job that day, but he’d be back in the morning. She’d told him to come in like he had today, because she probably wouldn’t be up.
No, after a date with Bennett, she’d need hours to detox and examine things from every angle.
“The date.” She glanced around for her phone, but couldn’t see it. The clock on the wall read six-thirty, and she cursed herself and her lack of time management as she rushed out of the studio and into the master bathroom.
She had time to get ready, but she rushed through her shower and didn’t wash her hair. It fell almost to her waist, and there was no way she could get it dry in time for a seven-ish date.
Seven o’clock came and went without a text or phone call from Bennett. Jennie coached herself into going out onto the front steps to wait.
He’d been at work. He hadn’t known the exact time he’d be done. She couldn’t expect him to drop everything and show up at her house.
Still, a nagging sense of worry tugged against her patience and her resolve, whispering things like, Maybe a relationship wit
h him is too hard. Maybe you should find someone who had a regular, nine-to-five job.
Jennie hadn’t thought she wanted to “find someone” at all. Even the idea of rekindling this old flame with Bennett had her heart tripping in fear.
Trying to tamp down that fear and not let it rule her life, she pulled out her phone and sent him a message.
All ready. What’s your ETA?
She hoped it wasn’t too pushy. Maybe he’d lost track of the time too. Maybe he’d gotten off work later. Maybe, maybe, maybe. She was really getting sick of the maybe game. She’d played it so much while waiting for Kyle to show up at their wedding, and every day since.
Not anymore, she thought as her phone buzzed.
Running late, sorry. The chief would not stop talking. Leaving my place now. Probably 10 min.
Relief rushed through Jennie, and she realized she had a long way to go before she could truly trust a man. But if there was anyone she wanted to start with, it was Bennett.
To distract herself—and keep from sending him more thank an okay in response—she started texting her best friend she’d left behind in San Francisco.
Hey Lisa! Just thinking about you. How’s the bay?
Lisa Nichols and Jennie had been next-door neighbors on the top floor of an apartment building that faced the bay. Their balconies were separated by only a thin railing, and Jennie had loved sitting there and watching the ships, the people, the ocean.
No wonder her muse was on vacation here. Though the beach and another bay, albeit a different one, sat about ten minutes away, Jennie had not taken the opportunity to go see it.
“I will,” she vowed to herself as Lisa responded.
Soooo good! I miss you so much. This new guy moved in next door and the whole place smells like onions and beef stock now.
Jennie laughed, maybe for the first time since her forced exodus out of San Francisco. A pang of lonliness hit her, which made no sense. She had a date with a handsome man only minutes away.
But she knew there were no replacements for her girlfriends. Growing up with only Jason, Jennie had always been close with someone. But she craved her female relationships, and the decade-long friendship with Lisa had filled something in her that Jennie desperately missed.
We should get together for lunch, Jennie typed. Even as she hit send, she knew she couldn’t. San Francisco sat almost a thousand miles down the coast, and Jennie had gotten a loan just to pay for the electrical work she needed done.
Lisa wasn’t rolling in the dough either, and she said, I wish! I am coming to Vancouver in a few months for a family reunion. How close is that to you?
Vancouver was only a few hours away, and Jennie’s heart took flight. It’s about four hours, she said. Totally doable!
Yay!
A truck pulled up just as Lisa’s last text came in, and Jennie stood, her whole body vibrating with nerves.
I have to go, she thumbed out quickly. I have a date. I’ll catch you up later. She silenced the notifications on Lisa’s text stream, knowing her friend would go nuts over the words I have a date.
Heck, Jennie was going slightly nuts, especially when Bennett came around the front of the truck wearing a pair of dark wash jeans and a polo the color of summer grass.
It should be illegal to look as good as he did, and Jennie wondered what in the world she was getting herself into.
Chapter Nine
Bennett couldn’t look away from Jennie. Thankfully, she likewise seemed frozen in place, staring at him the way he gawked at her.
He simply didn’t remember all those curves, and she hadn’t really been into dresses in high school. But she wore a navy blue number with pink polka dots all over it. The fabric hugged her body to her waist, where it flared out and down to her knees. She wore a splashy pair of pink heels with it, and Bennett couldn’t breathe, blink, or swallow.
She stepped toward him, breaking whatever spell she’d put him under, a smile curving her mouth.
And wow, Bennett wanted to kiss her so badly. He licked his lips as if he might get the chance later, and walked down the sidewalk to come up her driveway and greet her.
“Hey, there,” he said, his voice miraculously smooth. “You look great.”
She twirled in the dress, the pink from the polka dots traveling to her cheeks. “Thank you. You too.” She wobbled a bit on the heels, and pure panic paraded across her face.
Bennett lunged for her, latching onto her elbow and steadying her. A current as strong as anything he’d ever felt ricocheted through him, zinging his heart, his lungs, and settling in his stomach.
She had to feel that too, right?
Bennett locked his eyes on hers, and sure enough, he saw the electricity in her gaze too. Thank goodness.
“So.” He cleared his throat and dropped his hand. “I was thinking of going over to Bell Hill for dinner. There’s a new place you probably haven’t tried.” He watched her for a moment to gauge her reaction. Jennie had never been particularly keen on trying new things, but tonight, she grinned and said, “As long as I can get something besides seafood.”
“Totally,” he said. “This is more of an, oh, I don’t know, Upscale place. They’ll have seafood too, of course.” He opened her door for her and steadied her again while she climbed into the cab of his truck and smoothed down her skirt.
He hurried around the front of the vehicle, mentally coaching himself not to be a fool. Play it cool.
He felt so much like he was back in high school, going on his first date with Jennie Zimmerman and hoping not to screw it up.
A powerful sense of déjà vu hit him as he got behind the wheel and started the truck. A nervous laugh leaked out of his mouth. “This feels like high school, right?”
“A little.” She giggled. “But I’m way too old to play games.”
He jerked his attention to her. “Yeah, me too.”
And with that, she slid across the bench seat and slowly, carefully, so slowly and carefully Bennett could feel and enjoy every sensation, she curled her fingers in between his.
“No games.” She looked up at him, an edge of desire in her eyes that really sparked fire in Bennett’s blood.
He squeezed her hand, all the response he could come up with. He managed to drive over to Bell Hill without disobeying any traffic laws or going right off the road as the lemony scent of her skin started to infuse the cab.
“Beachcomber,” Jennie read off the sign when Bennett pulled in. “Doesn’t look busy.”
“It’s Tuesday,” he said. “And it’s not in the busiest tourist area.” Which he was actually glad about. Sometimes the beaches and pier were overrun with tourists when he just wanted a hot dog from the best stand Hawthorne Harbor had to offer.
They got a table quickly, and he ordered the steak skewers as an appetizer while she got the baked tomato soup.
“That has bleu cheese in it,” he said while the waiter still stood at their table.
“I can read.” Jennie flicked him a look and nodded at the waiter, who moved away.
Foolishness raced through Bennett, but he wanted to stick to the no-games rule that had clearly been established. “I thought you didn’t like bleu cheese.”
“I don’t.”
He frowned at her, which made her giggle again. The sound wormed it’s way through Bennett’s veins to his heart, and he smiled too.
“It won’t be prevalent,” she said. “You just have to watch out for bleu cheese when it comes in crumble form or dressings.”
“Crumbles and dressings. Got it.” He lifted his soda to his lips. “Do you still dislike mushrooms?”
“Ew. Yes.” She made a face and consulted her menu again. “And all these fancy places have mushrooms in their dishes. Fancy mushrooms.”
“Well, if there’s anything worse than a mushroom, it’s a fancy mushroom.” He chuckled, and Jennie shook her head at him though she wore a smile.
The waiter returned and they ordered—Bennet got the braised short ribs and
Jennie got the roasted chicken, which totally came with fancy mushrooms—and he said, “So it’s been twenty years. Fill me in.”
Jennie looked like she’d swallowed insects and needed to let them out of her mouth. It hung open, and a few moments passed until she recovered.
“I went to art school. Graduation. Worked in a few studios. Now I’m back in town.”
It was Bennett’s turn to gape. “Oh, come on,” he finally said. “You can’t sum up twenty years in three sentences.”
“Sure you can. You try it.” She looked at him with a small smirk, and Bennett accepted the challenge.
“Three sentences?” He inhaled. “All right. I got married a few years after you left. Hurt my shoulder so I couldn’t pitch anymore. Got divorced, finished my master carpentry accretidation, and got a dog.”
“See?” She sipped her soda and looked at him with more sincerity in her eyes. “I’m sorry about your shoulder. Does it still give you problems?”
“After a hard day like yesterday tearing stuff out, yeah. But not usually.” Bennett wasn’t used to talking about himself. The people he spent time with knew everything about him, and it was actually refreshing to release some of the past to Jennie.
The conversation became easy after that, and while Bennett didn’t reveal any other major things in his life, he felt comfortable with Jennie.
She laughed as easily as she ever had, and he could see the echo of her former self though he acknowledged that she’d changed too.
And he liked the changes in her. The maturity. The wisdom. The talent.
They walked out hand-in-hand, and he said, “You want to go visit the bell tower?” Bell Hill had been named for the famous tower on the tallest of the rolling hills sweeping east from the beach.
“Depends,” she said.
“On what?”
“We used to kiss behind the bell tower.”
Bennett suddenly felt twice as hot, and he cleared his throat. “Yeah, we used to.”
“I…don’t think I’m quite ready to do that yet.”
Bennett was, but only so he could validate this giant spark between him and Jennie. He could wait too. In fact, in that moment, he’d give her all the time she needed, because he wanted to see if she could make it down the aisle to him this time.
Hawthorne Harbor Box Set Page 48
