Page 20 of Remembering You
I rolled my eyes, softening it with a playful smile. “A humble guy, clearly.”
“Obviously.”
He gently guided me to the right where a few cabins were set behind the building. A sheet of thick ice blanketed the lake and the moon reflected off of it, illuminating Jim’s face with a shadowed cerulean color. “This is your cabin,” he said, gesturing to the small cabin, closest to the building. It was perfect. No stairs to climb. Only a few steps inside to the residency center and a few steps after that to the covered bus stop.
“Thank you so much.”
“Anytime.” Jim slid the key into the lock, opening the door, then taking my elbow, he helped me inside. “They usually reserve these for the interns and artists who have seniority, but since it’s a new program, there aren’t as many of them. And several decided to live off campus.”
The inside was even more beautiful than the outside. There was a small den area and a decent sized kitchen with a bathroom just off to the side of it. On the other end, was a door. I scooted toward it, my movement slower than usual and clunky with my new crutches. I swung the door open to find a bedroom, made up with a red quilt, a nightstand, and a rocking chair in the corner. “This is like… like a real apartment. Why would anyone want to move offsite from this?”
Jim shrugged modestly, but his smile didn’t hide his pride. “I mean, as the person who built the place, I completely agree. Oh!” he gently took my elbow and guided me toward the living room. “Let me show you the best part.” He tugged a sliding door open which led to where a small wooden deck faced the edge of the lake.
“Wow,” I gasped and the condensation from my breath surrounded my face. “What a gorgeous view. I always wanted a house on a lake.”
“I know,” he chuckled, then leaned in, whispering into my ear. “I saw your vision board.”
I blushed. There were personal, intimate things on that board. I guess it was lucky that all he noticed was the home I had chosen and not the sexy lingerie I had cut out and pasted on. But losing my virginity? It was on that vision board. I was ready … at least I would be when I found the right person.
“What else is on that board?” he asked, practically reading my thoughts.
I was grateful for the fact that it was dark and he couldn’t see the blush on my cheeks. “A porch swing,” I answered, pushing away the thoughts of the lingerie. “So I could sit out here and enjoy the lake.”
Without looking, I could feel him nodding beside me. “And?”
“A wood burning fireplace inside. A big dining room that my entire family can be seated around.”
“You want a big family?”
“I want at least three kids. Preferably more,” I admitted. “But I don’t want to quit my job. I want to continue working and hopefully have a husband who contributes as much as a father as I contribute as a mother.”
His arm snaked around the small of my back, the weight of his palm against my hip as heavy as my desire for him. I wanted Jim. And God, that scared me. He was newly single and I was completely new to this town. The timing just wasn’t right. But someone needed to tell my rapidly pounding heart that fact.
“That sounds only fair,” he said. “What else do you want, Turtle?”
“I want a gray cottage with white trim that is carved in some beautifully intricate design, giving my house cozy charm and character. A front porch and a back deck. A treehouse for the kids to play in and one of those tire swings that extends over the lake for them to jump into safely.”
I’d imagined my Maple Grove dream house for as long as I’d been coming up for summer camp. Most women dreamed of their weddings… I dreamt of my perfect New England cottage.
“Another swing?” Jim asked. “Didn’t realize you were so into swinging.” I smacked his stomach with the back of my hand. The wall of muscle shouldn’t have been a surprise… but it was. I wanted to feel those abs. Wanted his weight on top of me, his mouth on mine, licking and kissing down my neck. I wanted Jim. I wanted Jim in a way that I had never wanted any man before. And the fact that we’d only just met made the sensation that much stranger.
I turned to face him, the crutches hitting the wood planks beneath us clumsily.
“Here,” Jim whispered. “Let me help.” He gently took my crutches and tucked them under his arm. Then, cradling each of my hands, he draped my arm over his shoulder, walking me back inside and sitting me down at the small table in the kitchen.
I lifted a brow. “See?” I whispered. “Hero material.”
“Everyone needs a hero now and then.” Bending, tugged on a loose strand of my curly hair, his gaze latching to mine. “Stay here. I have to get the groceries.”
He swiftly moved out the door and was back inside in minutes, unpacking the paper bag and setting the few items into the pantry and refrigerator. “What’ll it be?” he asked, grabbing a stray tea towel draped on the oven and flinging it over his arm like a fancy waiter. “On tonight’s menu, we have PB & J. A turkey sandwich with bacon. Or scrambled eggs and toast.”
I laughed and shook my head as he shrugged out of his coat and tossed it onto the counter. “Peanut butter and jelly is perfect. Thank you.”
He got to work, opening a roll of paper towels and setting out four slices of bread on two towels. As he worked, I eyed his jacket, draped across the counter. I stood, hopping to the other side, across from where he was spreading peanut butter along the white bread.
“Where are you going to go tonight if you can’t go home?” I asked and while his eyes were cast down, I slid the ten-dollar bill into the pocket of his coat.
He shrugged. “I’ll see if they have a free room here at the residency center. If not, maybe I can sleep in my car.” The lid to the jelly jar popped as he opened it.
