Page 36 of Barefoot Lake

“Scott’s fine. Nothing can damage his hard head.”

We talk about nothing of consequence for a few more minutes. Gun to my head, I couldn’t tell you a word of what we discussed because I’m too busy drinking him in.

I’m done staying away.

CHAPTER 17

Jake

My mission to maintain my distance from Alice is challenged when she shows up at the nursery without warning late one morning a few days after our backyard chat. She sweeps into the office on a gust of autumn wind with bright eyes and flushed cheeks from the chill that had descended on Wilcox Grove. In spite of the blustery day and the mess of leaves that has basically coated the whole town, sneaking into everything, everywhere, she seems happy.

She quickly chats with one of my sales associates, Tim. People talk a lot in a small town, so I know Alice has been integrating into Wilcox Grove. She seems comfortable talking to Tim, and I wonder if they know one another already. I wonder who else has gotten to know her while I’ve been as welcoming as a porcupine.

I watch a huge smile spread across her face as she follows Tim’s pointed finger and turns toward me. My chest squeezes when I realize that seeing me can make her look like that.

“Hi, Neighbor!”

Her bright voice causes Eli to look up, too. He’s also smiling now, but his is much more Cheshire Cat than Alice’s. He’s deeply engrained in the gossip mill of Wilcox Grove and often supplies me with tidbits about her that he’s heard. Through him, I learned that Alice and Hannah are basically joined at the hip.

Thankfully, Alice is fully focused on me and doesn’t seem to notice Eli is even there. I preen a little under her gaze, standing from behind my desk as she approaches me.

“Ace. What brings you here?” I silently will my heart rate to calm the fuck down.

“I just figured it was time to come see where you work. Plus, it’s October. I need pumpkins. Could you help a girl out?”

She looks up at me hopefully, and I nervously clear my throat. I want to say I’d do anything to help her but stop myself.

She pauses at my hesitation, and her face falls. “I can also figure it out myself. I don’t want to be a burden.”

“No,” I say, more aggressively than I intended, eager to remove the sadness from her voice. I never want to be responsible for crushing that spirit. “Sorry— I mean— let me take you out to our patch personally.”

She lights up again, just as quickly as she’d deflated a moment ago, and I sigh with relief. I hold out my arm to guide her toward the door, praying I’m about to escape successfully without Eli embarrassing me.

No dice.

Eli nearly dives over his desk in an attempt to get to us before we get to the door, tripping over a box of mulch samples and making enough noise to wake the dead. Alice, unsurprisingly, turns back to see what the commotion is, and Eli pops up like a spring daisy beside us.

“Hi! I’m Eli.” He shoves his hand toward Alice, who giggles but takes it.

“It’s nice to meet you, Eli. I’m Alice, Jake’s neighbor.”

“Oh, are you? I’ve heard so much about you.”

I want to punch Eli in the throat.

“You have?” Her head swivels back to me, a grin back on her face, but this one matches Eli’s mischievous one. She thinks I’m the one who’s been talking to him about her. And I have, a little. But not nearly as much as the rest of this nosy town’s population.

Great.

The last thing I need is Eli telling Alice anything that I’ve said about her. Since that first dinner with Eli, he’s asked for “neighbor updates” every time I’ve seen him. I’ve kept my answers as short and fact-based as possible, but this man can twist “She’s taking better care of the house” into a proclamation of love.

How?

Don’t ask me.

“We need to go, Ace, or there won’t be any pumpkins left.” I put my hands on her shoulders and spin her toward the door, giving her a gentle push. She leans back hard against my hands to try and stop her forward progression, but we still shuffle toward the door.

“I can’t wait to have a looooong talk with you sometime, Eli!” she calls back over the shoulder, and I can hear Eli cackling until the front door closes behind us.