Page 13 of Love Notes

“I noticed.”I bit my lip and then said, brazenly, “Not everyone can pull it off as well as you can though.”

Ryan’s throat bobbed as he swallowed.“Uh, so when you asked to cook me dinner tonight, you said it wasn’t a date, but you also said, or I thought you were going to say, that you wouldn’t be opposed.Is that right?”

“Yes,” I said, my heartbeat quickening.

“Then if the offer’s still open, I love to have dinner with you, just you, tomorrow at the cabin.”

“I’m so glad that one of us isn’t too awkward to use their words,” I said, and the tension between us burst as we both laughed.“The offer is definitely still open, even though it feels weird because it’s actually your house.”

He shrugged, slowing as we reached the turnoff to the cabin.“The workshop’s fine.I honestly spend most of my time over there anyway.”

“Are you lying to me?”

“No!”Gravel crunched under the tires.“Rebecca’s always making fun of me for working in the middle of the night.This way, it saves me the walk.”

I laughed again.“I don’t know if I believe that.Although, I have to admit, sometimes I work best at night too, when there’s nothing else happening to distract me.”

“That’s exactly it,” Ryan said.

“Except the internet.God, I’ve lost myself down so many rabbit holes on the internet before by getting stuck reading the arguments in the comments, and suddenly hours have passed, and you’ve wasted all that time.Do you do that too?”

He ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck.“Nah.”

“Oh, there aren’t any flame wars in the comments section of your YouTube master woodworkers?”

He shrugged and then shook his head.

“I’m definitely in the wrong job,” I said as we pulled up outside the cabin.“Book people can be wild.I love writing though, even when I hate it.I can’t imagine doing anything else.”

“It’s good that you love your job,” he said.“A lot of people can’t say that.”

“I’m very lucky,” I said, and I meant every word.Though at the moment, the luckiest thing about me was that I was sitting in an old truck with Ryan Devlin, and I wondered if he felt the same.Smiling, I opened the door.“See you tomorrow,” I said.“For dinner, if not before.”

“Yeah,” he said softly.“Good night, Adam.”

“Good night.”

He set off into the darkness through the trees, leaves crunching under his boots, and I went inside the cabin and turned the lights on and sat in the living room and wrote under the supervision of all the little carved creatures on Ryan’s bookshelf.

TO SAY Iwas out of practice when it came to dating was an understatement.I’d never beeninpractice.I was thirty years old, and I’d never had a relationship.I’d had hookups but never anyone I could call a boyfriend.Part of the issue was living in a cabin in the woods—when the hell did I meet new people?—but most of it, no question, was the fact that I didn’t put myself out there.I didn’twantto put myself out there.My life was pretty great.I had work that I loved, friends and family who meant the world to me, and a place of my own, when my sister wasn’t renting it out from underneath me.I liked my life as it was, quiet and simple, drawn with small strokes.Boring, probably.None of the guys I’d picked up on my infrequent trips away from Caldwell Crossing had ever seemed especially interested in the details.

Adam was different.He was delighted by my roses and my animals and my aliens, and he already knew exactly where I lived and what I did, and not once had he given the impression that he looked down on me for it.That, combined with the attraction I felt for him and the undeniable chemistry between us, meant I was nervous as hell when I was getting ready for our date, even though it was literally just dinner at my cabin, at the exact same table I ate at every night when Rebecca hadn’t exiled me to my workshop.

In the afternoon I finished staining Mrs.Vickers’s Queen Anne coffee table.The cat, which had been supervising, made herself scarce for that part.She wasn’t a fan of the smell.I left the pieces to dry and cleaned up.Tomorrow I’d attach the legs and deliver it.Mrs.Vickers lived locally, unlike my next client who wanted custom bookshelves sent all the way to California.The cost of delivery almost doubled the price, but I’d made furniture for him before, and he was willing to pay.I couldn’t lie; it gave me a real sense of satisfaction that he knew my pieces would only appreciate in value and that they were worth the extra investment.

When it grew dark, I changed out of my work clothes into something that, honestly, wasn’t much different, only cleaner: a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and a plaid overshirt.I couldn’t even say it was because I was living out of my workshop and my decent clothes were over at the cabin.Theseweremy decent clothes.I didn’t usually feel self-conscious about that.I didn’t usually notice it at all.Tonight though, there was a faint uneasy fluttering in my gut, and I worried that I didn’t look nice enough for a date.

I combed my fingers through my hair, then wet it and did it again.I wasn’t sure it helped much.I reminded myself that I’d looked like this every time Adam had seen me—well, except for the time he’d seen a lot more of me than both of us had intended—and he’d asked me to dinner anyway.I didn’t have anything to worry about.But the logic didn’t make much headway against my nerves.

It was getting dark when I finally mustered my courage and walked over to the cabin.The breeze was cool, and the stars were just beginning to appear.The air smelled fresh and clean, and in the distance a loon gave a mournful call.It was answered moments later.

The light on the cabin porch was on, and I climbed the steps and knocked on the door.

I heard footsteps, and then the door opened, and Adam stood there, wearing jeans, a blue Henley that brought out the matching color of his eyes, and a smile.His blond hair was neatly combed and a little damp, as though he’d only just gotten out of the shower.

“Hi,” he said, his smile growing.“You look really nice.Come in.”He stepped back to let me inside.“Is it weird that I’m inviting you into your own house?It feels weird.”

“A little bit, yeah.”I chuckled and then glanced around, as though the place might appear different.Apart from an unfamiliar coat tossed over the arm of the couch and a stack of notebooks and books on the coffee table beside a laptop, nothing had changed.“How are you finding it?”

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