Page 22 of Major Love

“Yeah, anything,” I repeat. “If you need a drive to the mountains, or someone to go with on a trail–”

“Jason,” she says, her beautiful smile a little shy.

“And they even still run the outdoor cinema night, if you wanna go.”

And I know that that’ll get her attention because, back when we were in high school, Sunday was dyingto go. But you had to be eighteen to be permitted entry, so she never got to come with me and the guys.

“What?!” she laughs. “No freaking way do they still do that!”

“Yes ma’am,” I tell her, grinning as she throws herself backward on the couch, squealing behind her hands. “But it depends how long you’re staying for.” I widen my stance. “’Cause it’s on Valentine’s Day.”

She peeks up over the back of the couch. “I’ll still be in town on Valentine’s Day.”

We watch each other for a moment, not saying anything but thinking the same things.

Adult things. The things you think about on Valentine’s Day.

“Okay,” I say finally, my voice going a little deeper. “If you don’t have other plans on that night… I’ll be taking you to the movies.”

She saunters over from the sofa and flicks the curve of my bicep with the business card, making me chuckle and rub my jaw as she brushes gently past me.

And she looks so damn irresistible that I watch her the whole way to the bathroom door.

She gives me a mischievous smile from over her shoulder and, just before she locks it, she says, “I’ll think about it.”

Chapter 5

Sunday

I can’t stop thinking about it.

I slip the take-out hot cocoa that I just purchased from the diner into the cup-holder in Casey’s truck, and I pull my cell from my purse, lowering the brim of my cowgirl hat over my eyes.

He’s not in the Army anymore… and he might have just asked me out.

I mean, maybe Jason didn’t technically ‘ask me out’. As some sort of mountain search-and-rescue warden he was probably just looking out for me, after being so exposed to what can happen to hikers during the colder seasons. And that thing he mentioned about the outdoor cinema screening was most likely the nostalgia talking.

But I can’t help feeling unbelievably happy about seeing him, especially when he seemed just as happy to see me.

Warmth spreads through my chest as I think about everything that happened this morning. About watching him set up the canopy from my lookout on the back porch, before telling him that I needed to head into town.

The way that he immediately made his way over to me and gave me his handsome country-boy smile when I told him that I’d left a mug of coffee for him on Casey’s kitchen counter.

The way that he told me that he’d be stopping by again later this week, and then nervously rubbed at the back of his neck as he reminded me that I’ve got his phone number on the card.

His subtle small-town way of saying that he wants me to use it.

And I can’t help but smile because I’m really freaking tempted.

The sound of a door slamming shut brings me back to the present, and I glance across the street from my position behind the windshield.

I slide a little farther down the drivers’ seat and tip up the brim of my cowgirl hat so that I can check out the pedestrians bundling up as they walk by.

In Phoenix Falls town-square it’s business as usual, with people buying supplies from the mountain-wear outfitters, and others stopping for food in the diner that I just walked out of. The sky is a light afternoon blue, with fluffy grey clouds hovering close by, and a pedestrian glances through my windshield and tips his cowboy hat when he catches my eye.

I breathe out a shaky exhale of relief, grateful that this town is nothing like Nashville.

Because if this was Nashville that guy would have been asking me for a photo, or maybe even dialling the press to let them know my current location. But in Phoenix Falls he’s just a guy being a gentleman, totally unaware of who I am and just acknowledging me to be polite.

---