Was she saying what Sawyer thought she was saying? “Like, go back to the beginning, you mean? Go on a date?”
“Yes. A date. Exactly.”
Sawyer just looked at her, knowing the grin on her face was wide and likely a little goofy. “I’d like that. Very much.”
“Yeah?” At Sawyer’s nod, Jenna smiled and nodded. “Good.” Then she held up a finger. “I have conditions, though.”
Sawyer waved her on.
“If things feel weird, we have to say so. Both of us. Deal?”
“Hundred percent. Deal.”
“If I’m sleeping and you have to leave, you wake me up first.”
Sawyer took a moment to absorb the fact that Jenna maybe saw them in bed together again. She nodded with enthusiasm. “Got it.”
“No more sticky notes.”
“No more sticky notes.”
“Okay.” They sat there for a moment before Jenna pushed to her feet. “I have to go feed my boys. Give me a hug.” She made a “come here” gesture, rolling her hand.
Sawyer jumped to her feet, very much enjoying this bossy version of Jenna, and she walked into her arms.
That’s where everything stopped, calmed, relaxed. Sawyer let out a long, slow breath, then inhaled the scent of night jasmine that followed Jenna wherever she went, let it fill her lungs, her psyche. She took it all in—the way Jenna’s body felt in her arms, soft and strong, feminine, the way Jenna’s arms felt around her as they held her, safe and certain. A big part of her wanted to kiss Jenna, touch those lips with her own, but she also knew that might be pushing it. Instead, she placed a gentle kiss on her cheek as they parted, and Jenna smiled softly.
“Text me?” she asked.
Sawyer nodded. “I will. Give Arnold a kiss for me.”
“I will.” With that, Jenna turned and opened the front door. She seemed to hesitate in the doorway and turned back to Sawyer. She looked like she wanted to say something, actually took a breath in preparation, then let it out without words. She smiled and said simply, “ ’Night, Sawyer.”
“Good night.”
The door clicked closed and Sawyer stood in her living room listening to the muffled sounds from next door, Jenna baby-talking to her animals, and she couldn’t help but smile. A warmth settled around her, along with a weird sense that life was just about to begin.
Chapter Fifteen
By late November, the first snow had fallen. It was just a dusting and likely wouldn’t stick around for long, but for a moment that Saturday morning, the world looked fresh and clean, like if you wanted to start all over again, with anything at all, today was the day.
Jenna texted with Delia a few times to make sure things at the shop were okay. She didn’t often take a weekend day off, but every year, she helped the local library with their book sale to help raise funds, and Delia was more than capable of running BookLove on a Sunday without Jenna there to tell her what to do. Still, it felt a little bit like leaving her infant with a babysitter, so she liked to check in and make sure everything was going okay without her.
As she locked up her car and was crossing the parking lot, her phone rang. A glance at the screen told her it was her brother.
“Hey, Nathan,” she said cheerfully.
“Hi, Punky, how’s life?” Her brother used the nickname he’d given her when she was about six and favored pigtails over any other hairstyle.
“It’s not bad. I’m headed into the library to help with their book sale.” She involuntarily shivered. “Ugh. Winter’s on its way. Cold today.”
“I think it’s here,” he said. “Listen, Mom wanted me to check with you about Thanksgiving next week.”
She stifled a sigh. Her mother rarely called her, and Jenna had grown used to that. She did the calling, once or twice a month, just to check that box, but they really didn’t have much to talk about. “What time?”
Nathan told her they were planning to eat around one o’clock, as usual. Her parents were elderly—her father in his early eighties and her mother not far behind—and they liked to have their evenings to themselves. That meant their children should come early and leave early, and Jenna was okay with that. “You’re in charge of rolls.”
Jenna rolled her eyes at that. She’d been in charge of bringing rolls to Thanksgiving dinner since she’d moved out years ago. It was as if her mom didn’t think she was capable of making any kind of dish, certainly not anything complicated. She wrapped things up with her brother and headed into the library, shaking her head with a sigh as she typed herself a reminder to pick up rolls. Holidays were not much cause for celebration in her family, mostly because she’d never felt like she could be herself. No, that wasn’t quite it. It was that she didn’t think her parents were okay with her being herself.
