She didn’t meet his eyes.“I’m not staying, Wes.I can’t.”
“Okay.”
He decided he didn’t want to risk pushing her away or lose this moment, so instead he kissed her.And they ended up exploring each other’s bodies, in the kitchen, the shower, and finally her bed.When Wes woke up at dawn the bed was empty.After he got dressed he found her sitting in Pops’s library typing away on her laptop and couldn’t help but smile.She must have found her muse again if she was up early writing.He snuck by and made a half pot of coffee, then brought her a mugful.
“I’m sorry to interrupt all that ferocious typing, but I have to go to work.”
She pushed her glasses up on her head and accepted the coffee.
“I had this vivid dream last night and had to get it all out.”
“You found your next book?”
“I think so.”She took a big sip of the coffee but couldn’t hide her smile.
“Good, I’ll see you this evening.Make sure you eat before then.”
“No promises,” she said, then stood and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss, and he smiled into her lips.
“Thank you for staying with me last night.”
“Thank you for letting me.”
He kissed again before she returned to her chair at the desk that sat in a window facing the yard and the water in the distance.
As he walked out to his truck, he knew he was in big trouble, because he wanted Shelby more than he’d ever wanted anyone.He needed to figure out what he was going to do with the rest of his life, or he wouldn’t have anything to offer her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Shelby
Slay the Dragon
Shelby hadn’t spenta full day writing in over a year when she’d finished her last book.Nothing had felt right, until today.Now this story—about a group of sisters with long dark hair, a treasure map, and magic powers they never knew they had—was rumbling around in her mind.She couldn’t type fast enough to get all her ideas out and it was invigorating.She wasn’t sure if her publisher would like it, or if her readers could get attached to a group of misfit preteens, but she already loved them.
When there was a knock on her door in the afternoon, she realized she hadn’t eaten since that morning.Then she remembered Pops’s funeral was the next day and wondered if she should be doing something to prepare for that?”
She opened the door to find her porch crowded with women from town.
“Oh hello, Mrs.Hart.”She was surprised to find Wesley’s grandmother standing at her front door holding a covered platter.And several of the other women carried various dishes.
“Shelby honey, I know we’re intruding a bit on you, during your time of grief.But we think Zeke would want us to.And we really just wanted to tell you how sorry we are for your loss.So we each brought you a little something to eat.In case you hadn’t thought to.”
Shelby pulled her sweater across her body to cover up the fact that she was still in her sleepwear and opened the door wider.
“Thank you, Pops would be so sad to know he missed finding all you lovely ladies on his front stoop with food,” she said smiling.
The women all smiled at her knowingly, like they could tell she was using humor to make light of how sad she was every time she thought of Pops being gone.
Then Wesley’s grandmother stepped in and gave Shelby a warm hug, and patted her cheek gently.“He was so proud of you.Always talking about your books and grit.You’re not alone with this, Shelby Bell.”
Her eyes watered and she could see why Wes was so good if this woman had anything to do with it.From what she could tell his family was close-knit, loving, warm, and close.All the things her family wasn’t, and she’d have no experience with if it weren’t for Pops.
Before she knew it the rest of the women were filing into her foyer and following Mrs.Hart to the kitchen.There was a swell of commotion and talking, condolences, oohs and ahhs about Pops’s beautiful view, and a big plate of shepherd’s pie was set in front of her as she was seated at the kitchen table.A chocolate cake and several other pies were placed on the island and someone put the tea kettle on to boil.The women all started telling stories about her grandparents and in particular how devoted Pops was to her grandmother.
“He used to call her his dove.He was smitten with your grandmother the moment he laid eyes on her,” Mrs.Hart said.
“And it lasted for seventy years,” Mrs.Meyers, another of the town’s matriarchs, said, pulling down teacups.
