show you around the station. You know, they’re pretty impressive places. Second only to the International Space Station.”
She grins. “Oh, I’m sure. All that mind-boggling technology, like . . . water hoses and big red trucks.”
“Don’t underestimate. Getting things wet is one of my favorite pastimes.”
Her cheeks pinken and she looks away, although I can see her lips twitch. She seems to be getting a little less defensive with every comment I make. And I like that she’s loosening up. It just further assures me that I’ll have her right where I want her in no time.
“Well, the offer stands if you get cabin fever being stuck out here. When I get back, I’ll take you out into the orchard. Didn’t you say you needed to tour the property?”
“Yes. It’ll be formally surveyed and appraised, but I need to get a lay of the land to put in my final report.”
“Oh, I can give you a lay of the land.”
Her cheeks flame a little brighter, making me feel very proud of myself for some reason. It’s fascinating to see how she reacts to me. Although I could see where it could be habit-forming—teasing her—I’m not worried. I’m not the kind of guy to get wrapped up in a chick that way. I’ve lived without love for too long to go back now. I like things just the way they are.
But still, I can see how it could happen . . .
To someone else . . .
Someone better suited to loving and being loved.
But not me.
Definitely not me.
“I’ll plan for it then.”
“For me to give you the lay of the land?” I ask, quirking one brow suggestively. She’s so much fun to taunt.
“Well, not
that kind
of lay,” she replies, making me raise my other brow.
“Very nice! Well done. Maybe you’ve got some potential after all.”
At my words, her expression slowly falls into one that’s sullen and pensive. Her sigh is deep and long. “I don’t know. Sometimes I think whoever loves me will just have to love me the way I am. Whatever way that is.”
In an uncharacteristic moment of empathy, I feel bad for Laney. I know what it’s like to worry about being loved. I did it for years. Until I learned to stop. Until I learned to stop caring and stop trying. But for Laney, I don’t think she ever will. It’s obviously part of who she is.
As gently as I can, I tweak her chin and reply. “And someone will, Laney. Someone will.”
Her smile is small and a little sad.
“I’ll have my cell with me. Call if you need anything. Not that I can really do anything about it, but if you’re burning the house down, I’ll know which truck to bring.”
She laughs. It’s a good note to leave things on.
THIRTEEN: Laney
M y phone rings. It’s Tori. Again. For a few seconds, I hover over the green button to answer the call. But after a crystal clear image of her in bed with Shane flashes through my mind, I go straight toward the red decline button.
I get up and move away from the dining room table. With Jake gone, it’s lonely around the house. Not that I’m used to him being there or anything. But I’m liking his company more and more as time goes on. Besides, with Tori and I on the outs, and my parents and I on the outs, it’s a pretty lonely world right now. I could use the companionship I’ve found in Jake.
You can tell yourself that’s all it is all day long, but you know there’s more to it.
I push aside that voice. More than ever, I don’t want to think too much, to overanalyze things. I just want to have some fun. To forget about life and pain and trouble and responsibility as much as I can. I’m here to do a job, but there’s nothing that says I can’t have a little fun on the side.
If I’m even capable of doing something like having a little fun.
Frustrated, I walk to the fridge. My eyes move over the peach preserves and the butter, and the milk and the pack of ham, but nothing strikes my interest.
Until I see the peach wine.
It’s Saturday night. There would be nothing wrong with me having
She grins. “Oh, I’m sure. All that mind-boggling technology, like . . . water hoses and big red trucks.”
“Don’t underestimate. Getting things wet is one of my favorite pastimes.”
Her cheeks pinken and she looks away, although I can see her lips twitch. She seems to be getting a little less defensive with every comment I make. And I like that she’s loosening up. It just further assures me that I’ll have her right where I want her in no time.
“Well, the offer stands if you get cabin fever being stuck out here. When I get back, I’ll take you out into the orchard. Didn’t you say you needed to tour the property?”
“Yes. It’ll be formally surveyed and appraised, but I need to get a lay of the land to put in my final report.”
“Oh, I can give you a lay of the land.”
Her cheeks flame a little brighter, making me feel very proud of myself for some reason. It’s fascinating to see how she reacts to me. Although I could see where it could be habit-forming—teasing her—I’m not worried. I’m not the kind of guy to get wrapped up in a chick that way. I’ve lived without love for too long to go back now. I like things just the way they are.
But still, I can see how it could happen . . .
To someone else . . .
Someone better suited to loving and being loved.
But not me.
Definitely not me.
“I’ll plan for it then.”
“For me to give you the lay of the land?” I ask, quirking one brow suggestively. She’s so much fun to taunt.
“Well, not
that kind
of lay,” she replies, making me raise my other brow.
“Very nice! Well done. Maybe you’ve got some potential after all.”
At my words, her expression slowly falls into one that’s sullen and pensive. Her sigh is deep and long. “I don’t know. Sometimes I think whoever loves me will just have to love me the way I am. Whatever way that is.”
In an uncharacteristic moment of empathy, I feel bad for Laney. I know what it’s like to worry about being loved. I did it for years. Until I learned to stop. Until I learned to stop caring and stop trying. But for Laney, I don’t think she ever will. It’s obviously part of who she is.
As gently as I can, I tweak her chin and reply. “And someone will, Laney. Someone will.”
Her smile is small and a little sad.
“I’ll have my cell with me. Call if you need anything. Not that I can really do anything about it, but if you’re burning the house down, I’ll know which truck to bring.”
She laughs. It’s a good note to leave things on.
THIRTEEN: Laney
M y phone rings. It’s Tori. Again. For a few seconds, I hover over the green button to answer the call. But after a crystal clear image of her in bed with Shane flashes through my mind, I go straight toward the red decline button.
I get up and move away from the dining room table. With Jake gone, it’s lonely around the house. Not that I’m used to him being there or anything. But I’m liking his company more and more as time goes on. Besides, with Tori and I on the outs, and my parents and I on the outs, it’s a pretty lonely world right now. I could use the companionship I’ve found in Jake.
You can tell yourself that’s all it is all day long, but you know there’s more to it.
I push aside that voice. More than ever, I don’t want to think too much, to overanalyze things. I just want to have some fun. To forget about life and pain and trouble and responsibility as much as I can. I’m here to do a job, but there’s nothing that says I can’t have a little fun on the side.
If I’m even capable of doing something like having a little fun.
Frustrated, I walk to the fridge. My eyes move over the peach preserves and the butter, and the milk and the pack of ham, but nothing strikes my interest.
Until I see the peach wine.
It’s Saturday night. There would be nothing wrong with me having
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