A fractional nod.
“Does she like you?”
“She says she does.”
“Then Kimberly has looked beyond your quiet nature and seen how remarkable you are.” Jenna leaned closer still. “Being uncomfortable with the opposite sex doesn’t go away. Not worrying over saying the wrong thing. Not hoping they like you as much as you like them. It’s there. Itstaysthere.”
He glanced at her. Away. “I want to say things.”
“And Kimberly wants to hear what you have to say.” She set a hand on the one not holding his pencil. “Hopefully she will see you as I do. Gifted. Intense. Maybe she’ll recognize the elements of your remarkable character that balance out the quiet side of who you are.”
Jenna heard a quiet footstep on approach. She leaned closer still, until their foreheads almost met. Wanting to hold on to this moment a bit longer. “You need to be appreciated for who you are. Not who others try to be. You are one of the most real people I have ever met. There are no masks to your nature. Someone will love you for that.” She felt her throat close, sensed the emotions welling up. But this wasn’t about her. She forced out the words, “Ethan and Ryan, they already know you and care deeply for you. And me. And Noah.” She hated how saying that name made her eyes burn. Just hated it.
Liam slipped off the bench. Stood there a long moment, then walked away. Jenna found it difficult to unwind. She only noticed now how tense she’d become, like a watch spring that had been wound a notch too far. She wiped her face and rose slowly to discover Ethan standing there. Smiling in a mildly fractured sort of way. “I’d hug you, except for how I’m sweating enough for three.”
She forced out a laugh. Started away. Embarrassed by how she could not completely hide her own fractured state. “I better be taking off.”
* * *
Jenna left for Morro Bay feeling a little sad, a trifle hollow, and more than a little worried.
Jenna rarely spent time looking inward. Introspective hours like this were not usually part of her nature. But this journey south was different. She felt drawn to apply her analytical skills to what she had spent days avoiding.
Noah.
On the surface, Noah had been acting distant. Either nothing was the matter or he couldn’t say what troubled him.
Couldn’t or wouldn’t?
Not to mention how she really did not have any business knowing more than what he wanted to tell her.
On the surface.
There had been nothing stated. The few intimate moments they’d shared had resulted in all sorts of hopes and half-formed dreams. All of which remained unspoken. And now . . .
On the surface, he treated her the same. But before she had been warmed by his closeness. Now, working with him, being around him, it made her feel like she had entered into a gray zone. Jenna hated her sense of confused helplessness.
As she entered Morro Bay township, she found herself filled with a genuine anger. Another emotion she rarely permitted herself. But this time, this moment, she had every right to be upset.
Jenna pulled into the salvage yard, cut the motor, and sat staring at the boats resting on trestles, the pair of new vessels still in their white plastic covers, the mounds of equipment. She heard the rattle of machinery through her open windows. She felt the frustration, the worry, and the sorrow that lay on a much deeper level. The real reason the day had turned colorless. Facing it for the very first time.
She loved Noah Hearst.
But she did not know him.
And she needed to. Desperately.
But to ask, to press, meant confessing her feelings out loud. Even if she didn’t say the words. Even if Noah pretended not to understand why she was asking.
Because she would know. Speaking like that, demanding answers, meant taking everything to a totally new level. Inside. Where it mattered most.
As she rose from Noah’s pickup, Jenna wondered if all this confusion came down to who she was. Her total lack of experience in making a relationship work. Maybe if she had loved other men. Dived into the emotional deep end more often. Maybe then she would know what to do.
CHAPTER24
Morro Bay was both a town and a convoluted stretch of coves and inlets and beaches. Shell Beach, where Jenna’s anchorage was located, was five miles outside of town, a sheltered haven nestled up against a state park and wildlife preserve. Except at the height of summer, Shell Beach was a great place to be alone. Sheltered water, birds, rich golden sand, what wasn’t to love.
The three main salvage yards were located south of town, where a cove cut a broad swath so far inland most locals referred to it as a creek. Which it wasn’t. In the rainy season the surrounding hills drained down, but otherwise it was a deep-water cut that served the local fishing fleet and boatyards.
