Eversea A Love Story

I’ll tell Liz how you feel.” The look on his face was priceless. “Relax, I won’t,” I added. “But you should.”
    He swallowed. I had never seen him look so nervous and unsure of himself, yet so hopeful. It was kind of adorable.
    “Really?”
    “Yes, really. You keep my secret, I’ll keep yours. Deal? Now, let’s get some work done.”
    It was the last thing I wanted to do. My pounding heart was telling me to jump in my truck and go after Jack. I couldn’t believe he had come by. Surely he wasn’t checking up on me? Why would he do that?
     

 
    N I N E
    I got a text just after the lunch rush on Monday.
    Late Night Visitor: Hi
    The flutter in my belly made me grit my teeth.
    Me: Hi
    Late Night Visitor: Are you planning on getting a dumpster for the carrot I left outside?
    Huh ?
    Late Night Visitor: Carpet! Autocorrect. Sorry.
    I couldn’t help it, but getting a text from Jack made me ridiculously and annoyingly giddy.
    Me: Oh, thought you’d gone off your vegetables again. I’ve got roofers coming for the cottage this week, so I can use theirs.
    Hector’s nephew had called the night before and given me a price I could live with and would start the next day. The hurricane had weakened back to a tropical storm, but it was still on a projected path our direction by later in the week. At the very least it was sure to bring heavy rain. I was relieved to be getting the roof done.
    Late Night Visitor: You’re funny. Mrs. Weaton’s place?
    Me: How do you know?
    Late Night Visitor: She came by. Nosey lady, but nice. Don’t worry she didn’t recognize me. She seems to care for you a lot.
    Me: Sorry, should have warned you she’d probably come by. She and Nana were close. Who did you say you were?
    Late Night Visitor: That I was a friend doing you
    My eyes widened.
    Late Night Visitor: A favor! A friend doing you a favor! Sorry. Damn phone. Banging head on wall ...
    I bit my lip, trying hard not to laugh out loud. A warm buzz ran through me. I bit my lip even harder to pull myself back in line while thumbing the keys, wondering how to respond. A few seconds later another text chimed on my phone.
    Late Night Visitor: If only we had a wheelbarrow, that would be one thing ...
    What on earth?
    And then I got it and grinned. It was a quote from The Princess Bride . It just happened to be one of my favorite movies. I used to watch it with Nana all the time. I racked my brain to come up with an appropriate quote back.
    Me: Go away, or I’ll call the brute squad!
    Late Night Visitor: I am the brute squad!
    I giggled and put my phone away just in time to see Hector smiling at me.
    “What?” I asked.
    “ Nada .” He shrugged his shoulders.
    * * *
    It was almost midnight Monday by the time I jogged up my back steps. I was a little disappointed Jack hadn’t offered to walk me home again since Friday night, and then mad at myself for being so.
    The moon was full, so although I couldn’t see stars clearly, it cast such a strong white glow I could make out every bush and tree and person sitting with his back against my door. I jumped and did a double take. Yep, there was definitely a person sitting there, head down, cradling a six-pack of beer. I’d know that glossy dark hair anywhere. Jack. My heart sped up in spite of myself.
    “Jack?”
    He started, sending the bottles clattering off his lap. “Shit!”
    I stuck a foot out to stop the bottle nearest me and bent to help as he picked them up.
    “Sorry,” he said. He sounded tired. He looked tired too from what little I could see. Like he had fallen asleep.
    “It’s fine. What are you doing out here?”
    “I, uh,” he looked around. “I guess I just got bored and was going to see what you thought of the walls.” He got to his feet, brushing off his dark jeans.
    “The walls,” I repeated. I had spent every second of the day thinking of him alone in my house supposedly working on stripping the wallpaper. However, it wouldn’t hurt to at least pretend he wasn’t the first thing on my mind. And having him right here when I got home did strange little jiggy things low in my belly.
    “Right. Well, let me have a look.” I stepped past him, breathing in his showered scent surreptitiously. Something fresh and outdoorsy I couldn’t quite put my finger on. My light-headed reaction to the scent was annoying.
    I walked in the back door ahead of him, turned on the lights, and put my purse down on the counter.
    “You want a beer?” he asked. “I found