“What do you mean?”
“Why apply to my ad? You could’ve taken a job anywhere.”
I risk a glance up. His eyes are dark, sharp, curious.
“I like the quiet,” I say. “And I wanted something different. For her.”
That part’s true, at least.
He stares at me a second longer. Then nods, like he’s accepting my half-truths for now. “What’s her name?”
“Josie,” I reply.
He grunts, then refocuses on the potatoes in front of him.
Dinner’s simple—steak, potatoes, and sautéed greens—but it tastes like heaven after the hellish drive from Boulder. Jack barely talks. Just eats like a man used to silence. I let him have it.
After Josie falls asleep, I sit on the porch swing, sipping tea and watching the stars blink to life over Devil’s Peak.
Jack joins me without a word, settling into the chair beside me, a beer in one hand.
We sit in a silence that isn’t uncomfortable. Just thick.
Heavy with everything unspoken.
“You’re not what I expected,” he says eventually.
“Likewise.”
He sips his beer, then glances over at me. “You don’t scare easy.”
“I can handle grumpy men with tragic backstories.”
His mouth twitches. “Who says it’s tragic?”
I raise an eyebrow. “You mean to tell me the bearded recluse in the woods doesn’t have a tortured past?”
He gives a low chuckle that feels like thunder rolling through my bones.
“Maybe I’m just a man who got tired of noise.”
I meet his gaze, heat flaring between us like dry kindling.
“Well,” I murmur, “buckle up. I brought noise.”
His eyes drop to my mouth. Then my neck. Then lower.
“You brought more than that,” he says, voice rough.
My breath stutters.
Because even if he doesn’t remember me…
His body might.
Chapter Two
Jack
