The hidden fantasy I hadn’t revisited until recently had been shredded last night. “We need to talk.”
“You’ve said enough.”
All moisture had been sucked from my lips, but I smacked them together, frustrated. “Jonah, please.” He stopped and I didn’t know what to say. I looked aroundas if the snow-pelted surroundings and my crusted-over car would tell me what to say.
My car had been freshly wiped off and baby drifts were forming around the driver’s side. Shovel marks from where he’d cleared around the tires were still visible. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to get your car inside the garage.”
Oh. Just like last night, he was taking care of me. I had been terrified, leaving the house during a blizzard, but he’d sounded so tortured. He’d caught me in time and ordered me to be safe. Now he was getting my car into a shelter.
Don’t delude yourself yet again.He wanted something to do and his options were limited in a storm. “I can help.”
“Get inside.”
My temper snapped. I threw my hands out, the material of my jacket crackling and punctuating the move. “Let me help. I keep messing up, and I never know how to fix it. Just let me do something!”
He blinked at me. The crust in his near-beard had accumulated more snow since he’d been standing still. If he rejected me again, I’d go inside and try not to cry while watching a movie. I’d be useless, like usual.
“You don’t have snow pants. Go in the garage and move shit around until we can fit your car inside.”
I could barely hear him over the wind, but I nodded, grateful he wasn’t chasing me away again, and also glad I would be out of the wind. Flannel did nothing to block the onslaught and the skin of my legs was growing numb.
When I entered the garage, I turned on the lights, but my eyes needed minutes to adjust before I saw morethan dark shapes. I took a step and my boot skated across the concrete floor. I flailed my arms but caught my balance. Good thing. I doubted I’d get TLC tonight if I hurt myself in a fall.
For the next several minutes, I rearranged small motor equipment. A lawn mower. He had three different sizes of chainsaws. Two were electric. Everything he had was neatly ordered, but since no one else ever used the other stall, he’d made a spot for them on the floor.
I found his old fishing rods and tackle boxes, moving them to make room for the weed whacker that wasn’t caked in dust from disuse. A kayak and canoe were hung on the back wall. I hadn’t noticed them when I was caught up in my ruined wedding. How long since he’d used either one?
His hunting rifles and shotguns were probably in the gun safe I also hadn’t noticed last time, stuffed in the far corner. There was a small door toward the back.
I clomped toward it. My boots weren’t slick with snow anymore, but I couldn’t be too careful. I peeked inside. Too dark. Hell, I was being nosy anyway, and it was his garage. I’d find no secrets here, so I flipped on the light.
All his camping gear was arranged neatly on shelves. In a case on one shelf was a blue-and-gray tent he used to use when he’d camped with Teller all the time. Along the wall were extra paddles for the kayak. Coolers for when he used to throw pasture parties with my brothers were piled together.
Jonah had practically lived outdoors and now he kept his memories shut away, as he did himself.
“Did you lose something?”
I yelped and spun, smacking into a hard, icy chest.His arms wrapped around me like he couldn’t help himself. The cold of his coat seeped through my cheeks but his arms were banded around me and he wasn’t letting go.
“Christ, watch where you’re going.”
I tipped my head back to look at him. “I never used to be like this.”
He’d wiped the snow from his scruff before he’d reached me. Drops of melted flakes clung to his dark eyelashes and his gaze was indecipherable. “Yes, you did. You used to get yourself in trouble all the time.”
I puffed out a breath. That Summer was so long ago. Adult Summer had finished her education, watched over her siblings, worked for the family company, and kept her head down. Adult Summer didn’t pull pranks on boys who’d wronged her or her siblings. She didn’t race cars on back roads and she didn’t take bets on who could shoot theEout of a can of Mtn Dew at fifty yards.
“I can’t risk someone else suffering because of what I did.”
His jaw worked, and he carefully stepped away. His gloves remained on my shoulders a beat longer before he pulled his hands back. “Do you have your keys? There should be enough room now to get your car in.”
“I can do?—”
“Jesus, Summer.”
Okay, then. I took my keys out of my coat pocket and dropped them in his hand. “I put another roast in. It should be done soon. Are you going to eat with me?”
