Page 24 of Get Lost with You
Levi leaned down, kissed her cheek. “I won’t be far. I love you.”
She squeezed his hand. “I love you.”
It was like ripping a Band-Aid off an open wound to hear the sorrow in her voice.
He heard her whispered voice behind him. “What the heck did you do?”
Nothing. His dad hadn’t done anything other than lay his cards on the table and show his hand. He was disappointed in Levi for leaving, for choosing something other than the family business, and for coming back.
Upstairs, he tossed the few things he had in his duffel bag. He’d had his few belongings—mostly kitchen items, some framed posters, photographs, and odds and ends—shipped to a storage facility in Mackinaw City. He wouldn’t need anything other than what he had here for a while yet.
Making the bed, Levi thought about the day he’d left. He knew his dad wasn’t happy with his choice, but maybe he’d been too caught up in his own desires to really absorb how upset his dad had been.
No, he hadn’t come home for Christmas or holidays, because once he started his life, he’d been sucked all the way in. The couple of years he’d tried, his parents had gone on a cruise. They talked on the phone, but now that he thought about it, Levi mostly talked to his mom. He’d known his dad was hurt by his choice, but figured time and success would smooth things over. It hadn’t. He’d been able to ignore that for a long damn time. Now he was home and he knew, even if his dad wasn’t right about everything, he wouldn’t feel entirely settled, like he was once again part of Smile, until things were okay with his dad. He just had no idea where to start.
Eleven
Jillian eased up on the throttle as the dock for Get Lost Lodge came into view. A glance at Levi caused a spectrum of feelings to spin in her chest like a Tilt-A-Whirl. Leading the way, currently, was amusement.
“You can let go of the seat now,” she said, parking next to the dock with the ease of someone who had done it dozens of times. “I don’t remember you being scared of boats.”
His face had gone a soft shade of green, amplified by the dark sweater he wore with his jeans. His hair was windblown, his back rigid, his fingers likely leaving permanent imprints on the leather of the boat seat.
“Boats? No. Love boats. You driving one? I might be scarred for life. Is there a boat equivalent for the Indy 500? Because that’s clearly your calling. Maybe stunt driving?”
She cut the engine with a laugh. “I’m an excellent driver. You sound like Presley.” She pursed her lips. And Beckett, Gray, and Anderson, now that she thought of it.
Jilly stood, stretched, and noticed the way his gaze followed the movement, lingered on the little sliver of skin that revealed itself with her arms up in the air. Goose bumps prickled her skin. She lowered her arms, awareness humming in her blood.
“Fine. When Ollie’s not with me, I drive a little faster. But I’m safe.”
Levi stood, tested his own steadiness with his hands out on either side. “I’m alive, so I guess I can’t argue.”
The good thing about his judgment over her excellent driving was it distracted her from obsessing over the idea of being alone with him, spending the day with him, being near him with no one to stop them from getting too close.
She’d spent most of the night thinking about him and the tension that hovered between them like another person. Somewhere around 3A.M.and an elbow from Ollie, she’d decided he was worth the risk. Because she talked a good game about being over Andrew, and shewas,but she was still letting her relationship with him dictate her future by being scared to try again. That pissed her off enough that she’d fallen asleep with the determination to move forward and stop looking back. She was in control. She wasn’t about to let any man upend her life the way Andrew had. The way she’d let him.
Levi wasn’t like any other man. Definitely not Andrew. She’d told herself that any relationship, temporary or long term, in a small town came with the risk of scrutiny. Any connection that ended would inevitably mean she’d run into that person. Right? So, why shouldn’t it be Levi? Why shouldn’t she take a chance on herself? And him? She’d even convinced herself that she could date without thinking about the future. Or too deeply about it. Okay, she could try to not worry about the future.
What shewasactually worried about—other than losing what was left of her heart—was Levi’s mood when she’d picked him up.
He’d smiled when he greeted her at the door of his parents’ home. The delicious scents coming from the kitchen had distracted her from the way the smile didn’t reach his eyes, from the tensionthickening the air when she’d said hello to his parents. The day before, Levi’s determination and confidence about the two of them, the couple of near kisses, his head-on acknowledgment of their mutual feelings, had opened some of the locks around her heart without much effort. But this morning, she realized, he could easily have changed his mind. And likely not because of her driving.
The water was currently calmer than her stomach as she stepped out onto the dock before Levi could offer to help her.
“I think you’re supposed to let me be a gentleman,” he teased, setting the cooler beside her before getting himself out.
Jilly tied the boat up, doing her best to breathe and count the way she’d taught Ollie to do when she was worked up.
“I’m pretty independent,” she said, pulling on the rope to secure it. She’d had to be when her marriage fell apart, and even before when she was basically raising Ollie alone while her husband disassembled their lives and friendships brick by brick.
She stood, brushed her hands off on her pants, and when she turned, Levi was right there, the early-morning sun casting a glow around his head. He was more than hot or just good-looking. He was classically handsome in a way she hadn’t let herself appreciate nearly enough. The chiseled jaw, the scar on his chin barely visible even though she knew it was there. Those dark green eyes that made her think her feelings were see-through. His straight nose and soft hair. All of it together was a lot to take. A lot to want. Especially if he didn’t want her back.
He wasn’t touching her but his gaze was so intent, it felt like he was. “I don’t think I told you how good you look today. You were always pretty, but you’re a beautiful woman, Jilly.”
She sucked in a breath, doing her best not to swoon at the intensity in his gaze, the surety in his voice. She’d pulled her hair into a tight ponytail because she didn’t want it flying in her facewhile she drove. Her oversized cable-knit sweater hung off her right shoulder, revealing a hint of color with the pink tank top she’d worn beneath. Like him, she wore jeans, but she’d added good boots. He continued staring. He didn’t seem distracted now.
“Thank you.” What else could she say?No one else has ever looked at me the way you do?Can this kind of heat and desire last beyond the initial burst of attraction and become something real and long term? Did she want it to?
