Kai doesn’t push. He nods, eyes still on mine, open and unflinching. When he looks at me, it’s like he sees straight to my soul. And in the moment, I realize the truth crawling up from somewhere deep in my chest…If I stay in Saxville too long—if I let this man in, like I want to. Maybe, just maybe, I’d stop running, and it scares me to death.
My eyes move from his to the water, staring out into nothing. Wondering what it is about Kai that’s keeping me rooted in this seat. Usually, I keep it light and move on to the next person, but not with him.
“Hey,” he says, pulling me out of my daze.
Those eyes are on me, searching for answers. “Oh, hey…Maybe I need to make myself some coffee.”
“Or maybe we should take a walk.” He suggests, and in one swift motion, he’s up on his feet. He takes a step toward me with a hand out to help me from my chair.
THREE
Kai
Ava gazes up at me with a furrowed brow. “A walk?”
“Yeah, there’s a path that heads through the trees and down to the water.” Tilting my head to the gravel path, it’s not too far away, but enough for some privacy with this intriguing woman.
Ava pauses, her fingers circling the rim of her lemonade cup. “Sure,” she says, standing slowly, like she’s trying to read whether I mean something more than what I’m saying.
I do. I want more. Everything, if I’m being honest—her adventures, her ideas. She’s this chaos to my calm—complete opposites. A smile a mile wide takes over as I watch her shift in her seat.
She slips on her flip-flops and we start down the path, our shoulders brushing occasionally as we move in sync. The noise of the cookout fades behind us, replaced by the gentle rustle of trees and the crunch of gravel under our feet. We move closer to the water as it comes back into view through the trees.
“So, Portland?” I glance over at her. “That was your last stop?”
She nods. “It was beautiful. Fun. Creative. Exhausting.”
I wait. Letting the silence stretch long enough for her to fill it if she wants to. There’s more to this story. More silence between us as we approach the bench overlooking the water. I gesture for her to sit, and I follow.
“It’s easy to keep moving when no place asks you to stay,” she adds, eyes on the water.
It hits somewhere soft inside my chest with a slight squeeze to my heart.
“Have you thought about staying here?” I ask quietly as my leg touches hers. She’s so close to me now, it’s hard not to bring my hand to her face. But I resist. It’s a bit too forward with someone you just met. She’s beautiful with her messy hair on the top of her head, and those hazel eyes captivate me. My pulse picks up, which rarely happens when I’m chatting with women. Her pull on me is nothing I’ve ever felt with anyone. Not even with my ex, Katrina, who I thought might be the love of my life.
She doesn’t answer right away, which is understandable. The question holds more weight than it should for two people who met less than an hour ago. Two complete strangers being pulled together.
“I have,” she says in a whisper. “Saxville’s…charming. My sister’s here, my niece, with another baby on the way. And I love being near the water.” She gazes down at her hands like they hold the answers and back up out over the water.
“But?” I prompt her, placing my hand on her thigh, but I remove it quickly. When my hand was on her, sparks erupted in my palm for a split second.
She exhales a laugh. “But I’m used to leaving. It’s what I do.” Shaking her head, she says, “It’s what I’ve always done.”
I nod, letting what she says sink in. My body is filled with care and warmth for this woman who doesn’t stay in one place too long. I have the worst luck meeting women who always leave, like Katrina, but she’s just the most recent on the laundry list of others who never stuck around.
“I’m the opposite. I renovate things in my spare time, and I like being in one place. Having roots here in Saxville —it’s a small town, but it’s a community, it’s home. It’s where I’m rebuilding, takingsomething rundown and making it shine again. But it’s hard when people don’t stick around long enough to see it finished.”
I’m not sure why I’m sharing this with her, but she opened up to me and was vulnerable; maybe sharing with her will help her see the other side of things.
She glances over at me. “That happened to you?”
I shrug, dragging my hand down my face. “Maybe I was too stable. Too boring.” I sit forward, resting my forearms on my thighs, almost ready to lift myself off this bench. I’m probably boring her to death, too, except I look over and her grin back at me has my heart clenching in my chest.
She snorts. “You? Boring? I’m really enjoying talking with you. I don’t see you as boring. You’ve kept my attention, and I’m like a squirrel.”
“I mean, I do own a label maker,” I say with my chest puffed out, sitting straighter now.
Ava laughs. It surprises me, and a huge grin crosses my face. She lights up the space when she laughs.
