But Lexie crossed her arms over her chest and held her ground. She was glad adrenaline was still on her side, because just beneath the buzz of anger she felt a growing sense of nausea. She’d never put her foot down with anyone before, and she honestly wondered if she might get sick. From the corner of her eye, she saw Olivia duck into her own bedroom, then reappear seconds later with a baseball bat hanging casually from her hands.

  Colt saw it too and rolled his eyes. “Seriously? You’re going to beat me to death? I’d like to see you try,” he taunted, throwing Olivia an unimpressed glance.

  “Oh, she’s serious, trust me. You should go,” Lexie said, glad her voice was still steady.

  Colt took another step as his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “You throw me out of here, and I’m not coming back,” he said, his jaw set in a hard line. “Is that really what you want?”

  “That is exactly what I want.”

  “Oh, really? So, you want me to have you arrested for grand larceny? Because you’ve got about eight grand in jewelry that belongs to me,” he said, his voice smug, as if he expected her to be impressed by the amount of money he’d spent decorating her—as if that price would buy her obedience. Instead, his expression shifted as Lexie whirled on her heel, turning back the way she’d come.

  “Wait here,” she called over her shoulder as she hurried back to her room. She ripped open the top drawer of her dresser and dug out case after case of high-quality gemstones, piling the boxes in front of her vanity mirror. Then she yanked a plastic grocery bag off her closet doorknob, dumped its contents onto her bed, and swept all of Colt’s gifts into the sack without a second thought.

  When she returned to the living room, Colt, surprisingly, was waiting where he’d been told—though Olivia and her Louisville Slugger might have had something to do with that.

  “Here,” Lexie said, shoving the bag into his hands. “It’s nice to know exactly how much I’m worth to you. Maybe you’ll get store credit.” She walked to the still-open door and stood beside it, an implicit order for him to leave.

  Colt glanced down at the bag in his hands, and Lexie could see his whole body shaking with rage.

  “I’ve spent two years on you, Lexie. Two years! And you’re just going to throw it away over nothing?”

  “Two and a half years, actually, and I’m not throwing anything away, Colt. You did that all by yourself.”

  He took a quick step toward her, his jaw clenched, but when Olivia raised her bat, he seemed to think better of it.

  “You were such a waste of time,” he spat, as though desperately trying to have the final word. “Don’t come crawling to me when your guard dog gets sick of you.”

  And then he stepped through the door, giving Lexie enough clearance to slam it shut. She turned the bolt and slid the chain home, then leaned back against the wood and sank slowly to the floor as her legs finally gave out.

  Outside, Colt cursed loudly, and the door trembled as he took out his anger on it one final time before stomping away. Lexie held Olivia’s wide eyes for a breathless moment, listening to his footsteps fade, scarcely able to believe it was really over. Then, she laughed. It was the wildly inappropriate, slightly unhinged laughter born of adrenaline and panic. It was two years of stress leaking out of an overinflated balloon. And it felt good.

  Lexie tucked her face against her bent knees and laughed until tears streamed from her eyes, wetting the legs of her soft pajamas. Then, looking up, she caught sight of the bright blue baseball bat in Olivia’s hands and the slightly concerned look on her friend’s face, and she started laughing all over again.

  “Great practice, Blackhawks!” Jake shouted over the chatter of a dozen kids and their parents. “Next practice is on Thursday, and don’t forget there’s a game right here on Saturday morning at ten o’clock!”

  Families scattered, probably trying to reach their cars before the sky opened up. The clouds that had piled on top of each other at the start of practice were growing darker, and the wind was rising. Jake hurried across the field, gathering forgotten soccer cones as he went. He stuffed everything into his bag and threw the strap over his shoulder before jogging toward the parking lot—but he stopped short when he reached the curb. A familiar silver Infiniti was waiting near his truck, and Lexie sat on the tailgate, swinging her legs as she looked up at the sky.

  Jake hadn’t seen her since Friday night. He hadn’t heard from her since Saturday morning. And now he was almost dreading what she might say. She knew how he felt, he was sure of it. He’d watched the puzzle pieces come together in the dark and recognized the moment a switch flipped inside her, like she’d finally seen him for the first time.

  The only question was what she would do with that information.

  Lexie dropped her gaze from the storm clouds just as the first stray raindrops hit Jake’s skin, and when their eyes connected across the nearly empty lot, he felt the voltage from the storm crackle in his stomach. Her legs stopped swinging, and there was a moment when neither of them moved. Then, she hopped down and strode purposefully across the pavement.

  Jake couldn’t tell if she was angry or just determined.

  His tennis shoes were cemented to the sidewalk. He couldn’t have moved if he’d tried, and the closer she got, the tighter his rib cage seemed to become. His need to scoop her up and hold her tight tangled with an instinctive urge to run, to put distance between himself and whatever pain might be coming. He couldn’t exist in limbo anymore. Either they moved forward together, or he had to walk away.

  Her gaze was laser-focused on him as she closed the distance, and he could feel it like hot pinpricks along the collar of his shirt and the edges of his sleeves. When she finally came to a stop in front of him, there was nothing but a roll of thunder to break the silence.

  Jake had to remind himself to swallow.

  “I broke up with Colt on Sunday,” she said finally, and he blinked. That was not the opening he’d been expecting.

  “I’ve spent the last two days telling myself there is a respectful amount of time to wait before I can let myself be happy, like I’m mourning the dead, but I’ve finally stopped kidding myself,” she went on, looking up at him. “I’m not mourning anything. Whatever Colt and I used to be was over a long time ago; I just woke up enough to make it official.”

  Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the green in her eyes, and Jake felt a timid sense of hope poke its head out of hiding and sniff the air.

  “If I’m really being honest with myself,” she said, “the only person I’ve wanted for a long time is you.”

  Jake stopped breathing, picking her words apart in his mind to see if they could possibly mean anything other than what he thought they meant. A dormant sense of self-preservation chose that moment to come alive, opening his mouth and forcing out words he couldn’t believe he was saying.

  “Lex, I can’t just be a change of scenery.”

  The uncertainty that had spread across her face during his silence began to clear, like clouds rolling back after a storm, and Jake saw the sun break through in her smile. She moved closer, and Jake’s fingers tightened around the strap of his sports bag as though reminding himself not to jump ahead. She hadn’t answered him yet.

  Her hands came up and hovered over his collarbones, and he stood as still as possible, terrified something would spook her. His breath hitched when her palms settled gently against his shirt and began to travel upward. Her fingertips were cool compared to the humid air around them, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake as they slid up his neck.

  “You’re not,” she said, her eyes searching his. “You’re who I should have seen all along.”

  Jake moved without thinking, and his bag hit the ground with a thud. All the times he’d kept his distance, all the times he’d stayed quiet, all the times he’d held himself back were suddenly erased as his hand shot out to cradle the back of her head. Lexie made a startled sort of sound when he tugged her forward and kissed her without hesitation, opting instead to make the most of a moment he still wasn’t completely convinced was real.

  But despite her surprise, she didn’t protest. She didn’t step back. Instead, she slid her hands the rest of the way into his hair and matched him beat for beat. She was everything Jake had hoped she would be—soft and sweet, molded to fit in all the right places. He’d never had a first kiss that felt so familiar, as if they’d been together long ago and had only just found their way back—a little older, a little wiser, but still made for each other. His whole body sighed in relief.

  Unconcerned, Mother Nature chose that moment to open the floodgates, and the lukewarm October rain drenched them in an instant. Jake grabbed Lexie’s hand and his gear, and they made a run for his truck. He could hear her laughing behind him, clinging to his hand as they splashed through the puddles that accumulated quickly in the empty parking lot, and a crazed sort of grin took over his face. He tossed his bag into the bed of the pickup and yanked open the driver’s side door, urging her in first. She scrambled over the center console and flopped into the passenger’s seat as he climbed in behind her.

  “Talk about bad timing, huh?” Lexie said, giggling as she shoved a wet lock of hair out of her face. Jake could only grin, and he let himself stare at her without reservation. Even dripping wet, she was gorgeous.

  “It was perfect,” he said, not even talking about the rain.

  Lexie’s cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink as she ducked her head, not quite biting back a smile he’d have been able to see from a mile away. Just knowing he’d put it there was deeply satisfying. He twisted in his seat and leaned across the console, reaching for her the way he’d imagined a thousand times. The thunder that shook the windows and the lightning that lit the sky were worlds away as he kissed her again, this time moving carefully, like an explorer on uncharted land.

  “Lex, will you go out with me?” he finally asked, barely lifting his lips from hers, and he felt her laugh.

  “That’s a stupid question,” she said, and Jake could hear the smile in her voice. “What do you think?”

  10

  “Can you believe I’ve never been out here?” Lexie asked that Saturday as she looked across Valley Lake and the beach-like expanse of grass that sloped from the tree line to the water.

  “Seriously? I feel like I spend as much time here as I do at work,” Jake said. He unloaded a blanket and a picnic basket from the backseat of his truck, and Lexie watched with a fond smile. He was the only guy she knew who would track down an actual picnic basket for a picnic. Anyone else would have just used a plastic grocery sack.

  “What?” he asked, probably catching her odd expression, and Lexie shook her head.

  “I’m just wondering where you found that,” she said, jutting her chin toward the elaborate wicker container, complete with a red gingham liner that folded down around the edges. Jake carried it easily in one hand and used the other to steer her toward the base of a wide oak tree where the ground seemed level.

  “It’s my Aunt Christy’s, actually. Apparently, it was a wedding present from somebody important,” he replied.

  “And she’s letting you use it?”

  “Yeah, but I’ve been threatened with hard farm labor if it doesn’t return in pristine condition.”

  Lexie chuckled, imagining Jake shoveling out a horse barn or something equally disgusting.

  “Did you work on the farm as a kid?” she asked as she helped him spread the old quilt on the grass and smooth it out. She toed off her sandals and settled onto one side of the blanket.

  “Of course. We all did,” he answered, stretching out beside her. “I’ve hauled hay, chopped wood, herded livestock, repaired barns and fences, planted crops—the works. It’s a family enterprise.”

  Lexie watched him pull two wrapped sub sandwiches, chips, cut fruit and several kinds of baked goods from the wicker basket, and she bit the inside of her lip when she recognized the university’s logo on the wrappers.

  “Did you steal this from the cafeteria?” she asked, trying hard not to laugh.

  Jake shrugged and gave a sheepish grin. “I have a meal plan, so it’s not stealing. It’s like . . . taking an advance.”

  Lexie laughed, then unwrapped her sub and popped open a bowl of strawberries. It was a beautiful day—the kind of October afternoon that could be painted on canvas. The lake reflected wispy white clouds, and dragonflies darted here and there among the reeds lining the shore. Lexie looked around, amazed that she’d spent three and a half years living barely ten miles from this spot and had never taken the time to explore it.

  “I take a lot of pictures out here,” Jake said, nodding toward a long wooden dock at the edge of the lake. “There’s an eagle’s nest on the other side, and I’ve gotten a few good shots of them bringing fish back for the eaglets.”

  “Do you take a lot of wildlife photos? I’ve only ever seen you shoot school events.”

  Jake nodded as he pulled a bottle of Dr. Pepper from the basket. He cracked the seal and passed it to her before opening a second one for himself.

  “Wildlife is what I love most, actually. Animals behave in so many different ways, and you never know exactly what you’re going to get. Take the eagles, for example. Sometimes I can wait for hours and they do nothing but sit on their nest. Other times, I can be out here for thirty minutes and watch them dive toward the water to hunt and then carry a trout back to their babies and rip it to shreds.”

  Lexie’s eyebrows arched, and she scooted closer to Jake. “Can you show me some?” she asked.

  Jake wiped his hands on his jeans before reaching for his phone. He opened a photo album called “Valley Lake” and handed her the device before planting his hand on the blanket behind her. They weren’t actually touching, but Lexie could feel him hovering the same way he had during the awards dinner—just close enough to make her squirm. She wondered if he was doing it on purpose, if he knew how all the tiny hairs on the back of her neck were standing straight up.

  “This one was after a big rainstorm,” he said, reaching around her to enlarge a photo of an adult eagle perched on the edge of a massive nest, water droplets clearly visible on its sleek feathers.

  He swiped to another image. “Then this was last June when the trumpet creeper opened up,” he said. The photo was stunning—a tiny hummingbird hovering near a crimson blossom, its iridescent wings frozen in time.

  Lexie stared at it, mesmerized. She almost expected the bird to move.

  “These are amazing!” she said. She flipped through a few more images—a fish breaching the surface of the lake, sending ripples in all directions; a duck stretching its feet toward the misty water as it landed; a tiny frog resting on a leaf. “Why didn’t you tell me you were this good?”

  Jake shrugged, and Lexie could almost feel the motion against the back of her shirt.

  “It’s just about patience, really. Half the battle is being willing to wait for the right shot; the other half is knowing how to program your camera.”

  “Jake,” Lexie said, “this isn’t just luck. This is real talent! You could put these in magazines.”

  “Well, that’s what I hope to do,” he said. “National Geographic is the dream, of course, but there are lots of smaller places to start and work my way up. Tennessee Farm Bureau, for example, publishes a magazine a few times a year—lots of wildlife and scenic shots. I could start somewhere like that and get a few years of experience, then transfer to something bigger.”

  Lexie felt her chest tighten as she shifted to look back at him over her shoulder. He was so sure about his career path, already taking steps to get where he wanted to go. For the first time, she realized that the end of the school year would inevitably take them in different directions. The months suddenly felt too short.

  “I’ve wasted so much time,” she said, her voice softer and sadder than she’d expected it to be.

  Jake frowned and held her gaze, his eyes studying hers. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean we could have been doing this for months.” She swept her arm over the blanket and the picnic and the lake. “And it’s my fault we didn’t.”

  A spark of something flashed through Jake’s eyes, but then he blinked, and it was gone. Instead, he lowered his head slowly and placed a soft kiss against the curve where her neck met her shoulder. He stayed there for a moment, like he was thinking, and Lexie felt her bare skin burn under his touch.

  “Maybe we could have dated sooner, but we aren’t starting at the beginning,” he finally said, shifting until the front of his shoulder was resting against her back.

  Lexie frowned in confusion. “What do you mean?” she asked, echoing his words from a moment before.

  “I mean this isn’t really a first date,” he explained. “First dates are awkward. You have to navigate through all the get-to-know-you stuff and decide if the person is worth spending more of your time with or if you’d rather move on to someone else. But we’ve been doing that for months, and I already know what my choice is. Sure, this might be our first actual date where I can call you my girlfriend, but we’re not going backwards.

  “I’m not going to worry about graduation until it gets here, and neither should you. Right now is right now, and right now, I want to lie in the shade and eat stolen cafeteria food with the most beautiful girl in the world. And then, I want to take her fishing.”

  Lexie blinked, feeling heat creep up her neck. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from breaking into the kind of childish grin that would make her giggle like a teenager.

  “I thought you said it wasn’t stolen,” she quipped, cocking her head back again to see him.

  Jake blew out a puff of air. “That’s your takeaway?” he asked, though he was smiling.

  “I’m dating a strawberry thief,” she teased, reaching back to pat the side of his face fondly. “My daddy will be so proud.”

 

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