“There’s a lot of growing up that happens between eighteen and twenty-two. I imagine even more when you’re raising a smart little girl. For me, it was going overseas with the army. Grew up real fast. But twenty-two through twenty-seven…that was a big change, too. And then we bought this ranch, and in some ways, it feels like my life didn’t really start until that point. So I guess what I’m saying is, this is just the beginning for you. Even if it feels like you’re already in the middle of the hardest part, and I hope that’s true for you, I hope it’s easier after this…there’s still a lot of life to come.”
She exhales.
I scrub my hand over my face, hating the thought of her leaving this ranch. But she's going to, and sooner than I like, so she should be armed with all the important information. “If you’re looking for Christian charity, there’s a good United Church in town. The minister there is kind and compassionate. But the New Harvest church just up the road here is a dangerous place. Stay clear of it.”
“I know all about places like that, don’t worry.” Her chin tightens up stubbornly.
“Okay, good.”
“I’m not a hick.”
“I didn’t think you were. I actually thought you were a city girl when I first saw you, with your pretty sunglasses and those sandals on your feet.”
“Sandals make me a city girl?” A smile plays at her lush mouth. “I mean, I am. Or I was. But the sandals come from island life.”
“Ah.” I make a show of zipping my lips. “Your secret is safe with me, but thank you for the clue about where Mystery Hope comes from.”
She hunches her shoulders up. “Yeah, I was on Salt Spring Island for a bit. But I’m from Vancouver originally.”
“I was born in Edmonton,” I offer. “We lived up there until I was twelve, and then we moved around for a summer, and landed here.”
“Your mom said something about that.”
“It’s a nice place to raise a kid.”
She shakes her head.
Too far, Zane.
And that’s my cue to leave, actually leave this time.
“All right, City Girl.” I pick up the peace lily. “East-facing window, you say?”
“Give it a try. Let me know how it goes.”
“Can’t do that if you’re gone,” I murmur.
Her eyes flare wide.
“Sorry.” I grab the succulent, too, just to make sure my hands are extra full. “Good night.”
She reaches out. “Night, Zane.”
As she curls her hand around my forearm, a heady current of electricity jolts up my arm—and her eyes flare wide, as if she can feel it, too.
I exhale, audibly, and her expression goes so impossibly soft, I think I might die if I don’t kiss her, if I don’t get to sink into those lush, wide lips.
Fuck.Fuck.
And then the washing machine timer goes off, interrupting us.
For the best.
She scurries away, and while she’s in the mud room, I head downstairs as fast as my legs can carry me.
The plants go on the deep window seat in my room, which is never used for anything else. Almost like they were meant to be there. I just needed Hope to show up and point that out.
What the fuck are you doing?
