There was something so delicious about thinking of this man beside her, a book in his hands, the quiet hum of the fan or the crackling of a fire the only sound as he devoured the words on the page. What he hadn’t realized was that it was the perfect answer. Faith would love nothing more than to sit and read beside him.
“Why is that so hard to believe?” she asked.
“I suppose it is believable. It’s just not very exciting.”
“Says who?”
“My ex-wife, for one,” he said with another huff of laughter, but his face straightened out quickly and Faith could sense the wound that was still there. “Good grief. I’m out of practice.”
“What do you mean?”
“First time I take a lady out, and I’m mentioning my ex. Sorry.”
His admission warmed her. “It’s okay.”
“I’m trying not to mess this up,” he said in a lighthearted way, but she could feel a seriousness to his words. It was clear that he was trying to make a good impression, meaning that taking her out was a big deal to him. This fact made her so happy.
“I love to read, too,” she said in an effort to calm his worry. “It’s my favorite thing to do.”
He smiled at what she’d said, but there was more behind his smile—a wonder, an interest. He looked a little unsure, which was odd, since he’d been so confident with her family.
“Really?” he asked. Faith sensed that he thought she was just trying to make him feel better, and she was taken with his vulnerability.
“When I was young, I always had a book in my hands. I still do whenever I get a chance, although, with my job, I’ve been reading a lot of children’s books lately.”
“I always liked the classics, and my dad said that I was an old soul.”
“What was your favorite book?”
“A newer classic, actually. Hemingway.Old Man and the Sea. I read it so many times that the binding broke and all the pages were loose inside.”
She felt the coincidence in her chest and couldn’t believe that it was possible that as kids, the two of them could’ve been in the same town in the Outer Banks with their noses in a book. “Hemingway? Didn’t he have a house in Key West?”
“Yes, I think he did. That’s impressive knowledge!”
“I only know because I was obsessed with Key West as a child. I read all of Robert Frost, and he spent time there as well. I wanted so badly to go there.”
“Did you ever go?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
She took in a breath, relishing the smell of the beach. “I don’t know; work commitments, family stuff, I suppose. But deep down, I think I just didn’t want to go alone. I’d rather wait until I have someone to go with.”
He looked at her for a long time, and she wondered what was going through his mind. It was as if she’d hit a nerve or something. She could sense a little disappointment, maybe? It was hard to tell. “If you wait for things like that,” he said gently, “you’ll end up having never gone.”
It occurred to Faith then that this strong, handsome man, who seemed to have it all together, who had so much free time he could work every day doing something he loved, who had enough money to buy enormous sailboats and luxury cars—that with everything he could ever want, he might be missing something. Did he crave the intimacy of a family? Did he want someone to share his life with? Or were those just Faith’s wishes coming through?
Reaching the lighthouse, Jake paid the entrance fee and they walked inside. Spiraling upward as far as she could see was a mesh, metal staircase. Looking up, the climb seemed daunting as she considered the sandals she was wearing. She’d tried to look pretty, choosing her strappy ones with a slight heel. Now, she wished she had her flip-flops.
“Ladies first.” Jake gestured toward the first step. Trying not to think about the journey upward, she put her foot on the step and started the climb to the top. Their feet made quiet, clattering sounds as they walked up.
“In my dad’s house, there was a crawl space underneath our stairs for storage. My dad cleared it out and made it into a little clubhouse for me. I used to sit in there and read. The only light was my battery-operated book light. I could hear the sound of feet on the steps whenever someone went up. I haven’t thought of that in years, but our footsteps reminded me of it.”
She looked back at him, wishing they could stop right there on the stairs and talk some more despite the fact that it wasn’t the most ideal place to stop. She didn’t care. She could be anywhere and talk to him. “You did a lot with your dad, it seems,” she said, taking another step.
“Well, growing up, it was just the two of us.”
