Page 36 of Where You Left Me

Suddenly the realization that this is my doing, it’s my fault, causes guilt to twist in my gut.

“I’m sorry,” I mutter without planning to.

“Are you kidding? This bar has been my saving grace. It’s been the best thing for me. Once I told my dad I didn’t want to take over Martin’s Hardware, a huge weight lifted off me.

“And that’s how Cammie got stuck there?”

“Yes and no.” He shrugs. “She hasn’t told you?”

Another wave of regret washes over me. At one point, Cammie was one of my closest friends. And since I’ve been back, I’ve hardly talked to her.

I just shake my head.

“She wanted it. No one had any clue she had an interest in taking over the store. And thank God she did because she’s way better at it than I’d ever be.”

I nod along while he speaks, somewhat fascinated by how everyone’s lives continued moving while I was away. It’s not that mine didn’t, it’s just mine moved along separately from theirs. I don’t like the feeling it creates in the pit of my stomach.

“This bar saved me,” he says so matter-of-factly. “I only wish my mom had still been here to see me clean up my life. All I wanted was for her not to worry and be proud of me.”

Sadness aches in my throat. And regret too. I wanted to come back to Maple Ridge for his and Cammie’s mom’s funeral. But by then, I’d been away so long. I just didn’t want to complicate things more for Jones. I thought it would be easier on him without me.

“Aw, Jones, she was always proud of you.”

He glances up at me through watering eyes and my gut pinches. Are the accusations going to come? Will he ever forgive me for not being here for him?

But he shrugs and breaks our eye contact, as he goes to the mini-fridge and takes out two more beers. I’m not even done with my first but decide to chug it down. He’s not asking me if I want another, he’s expecting me to take it. So I do. Our fingers graze slightly, and it sends a shock zinging through my body.

I knew returning to Maple Ridge and being around Jones again might make my feelings for him resurface. But considering last time I was here I could hardly stand to look at him, I assumed they wouldn’t.

Being here with Jones, at this time in our lives, I can feel the shift in both of us from the people we used to be. And being in his presence does the opposite of what I had been expecting. Instead of reminding me of the pain and grief, he puts my heart and body at peace.

Jones leans against his truck again as he cracks open a beer. I watch as he tips it back and takes a satisfying pull from the can. He lifts the bottom of his T-shirt to wipe at the thick sheen ofsweat across his forehead, revealing his stomach to me. Tan skin and defined abs cause desire to swoop low in my belly.

My head swishes with confusion. How can I be attracted to him, still, after all these years?

“Hey, Peaches? My eyes are up here,” he growls.

My gaze flies up to meet his, finding amusement reflected in his eyes. Heat flicks across my cheeks. The use of my nickname sends a craving aching deep inside of me.

“Can’t blame a girl for looking,” I quip, trying to play off my nerves. I think I surprise him with my response because his lip twitches.

We stay quiet for a few beats, the hooting sounds of an owl outside echo against the clear night. I fiddle with the tab on the closed beer can. The longing to be near Jones reverberates throughout my entire body. It’s a dangerous want. But that doesn’t stop me from wanting it.

Wantinghim.

“You gonna open that beer or drive me crazy with that annoying popping sound all night?”

A smile twitches at my lips, and I finally open it and take a sip. My heart beats faster the longer we sit in this weird space. It’s territory we’ve never experienced. Things were never awkward between us.

“I gotta say,” Jones begins, running a hand down the front of his dirty jeans to wipe the condensation off. “I’m surprised you’re even looking.”

A lump slides into my throat. The conversation we had in his truck two days ago springs to my mind. I swallow. “I can’t help it if you’re still fucking attractive as hell,” I blurt out in all honesty. Because I can’t be anything but, with him.

His eyes darken on me and his mouth pops open. “Gotta say, that is not the response I was expecting.”

“What were you expecting?”

“You to bring up…” he hesitates for a moment; the strain is obvious in his expression. “Her. Aster.”

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