Page 36 of You Wish
“That’s so sweet.”
“They’re having their fiftieth this year.”
“Better late than never. What did you imagine?”
“They want a place where families could come together, start something. We’d work on it when I’d have time between races. But life got too busy, and it’s just sat here collecting dust.”
Georgia looked up at the beams reaching toward the sky. Even unfinished, there was beauty in them—the bones of something that could be extraordinary. “It’s not collecting dust, Jake,” she said gently. “It’s waiting. There’s a difference.”
The way he stared at her then made her chest ache. As if he wanted to believe her but didn’t know how.
“You sound like my grandpa,” he murmured, almost to himself.
“Then maybe you should listen.” She smiled, stepping closer until she could feel the faint heat radiating from him despite the cold. “I can help.”
“Why?”
“Because even though I don’t believe in happily-ever-afters for myself, I believe it exists.”
“Is that the only reason?” he asked.
“That’s what friends do. It’s important to you, you need help, so it’s important to me.”
For a long moment, silence stretched between them. Only the whistle of the wind through the rafters filled the space. His hand was still on the wooden beam, fingers tense, and without thinking, Georgia laid her hand over his. Warmth sparked through the contact, jolting both of them.
Jake’s eyes snapped to hers, and she nearly lost her breath at the intensity there. Vulnerable, yes, but also something hungry, something she wasn’t sure she was ready to name.
“You really think it’s not too late?” he asked quietly. His voice wasn’t smooth or teasing, not the Jake the world knew. It was rough, uncertain, threaded with something so raw it nearly undid her.
Georgia swallowed, her thumb brushing against his without meaning to. “I don’t just think it, Jake. I know it.”
The air between them shifted. Closer. Warmer. She could feel the pull of him, magnetic and dangerous in the best way. She should step back, remind herself why she was here, remind herself of the chaos already swirling around her job. But instead she stayed, her heart hammering like it wanted to leap across the space separating them.
Jake’s gaze dropped to her mouth for the briefest second before returning to her eyes, and that look alone nearly buckled her knees.
“You always do that,” he said, voice low, rougher now.
“Do what?”
“Make me want things I probably shouldn’t.”
Georgia’s breath caught. The barn seemed to lean closer around them, holding its breath, waiting.
She swallowed, forcing a shaky smile. “Then maybe you should stop looking at me like that.”
But she didn’t pull her hand away. Neither did he.
For a heartbeat, it felt like the unfinished barn was no longer just a place of regret but a cocoon, wrapping them in possibility. And Georgia realized—with startling clarity—that this was the moment she might fall all the way in if she wasn’t careful.
Jake leaned in just enough for her to feel the warmth of his breath against her temple before he pulled back, jaw tight.
“Careful, Georgia,” he murmured, his hand tightening over hers once before letting go. “You’ll have me believing in things again.”
14
Georgia was applying her lip gloss when she heard it. A fervent and impatient knock at her door.
“I’m not ready,” she called out.
