Page 40 of Dandelion Sighs

The warmer wasn’t on, but I caught the smell. It was like the cabin was going through a slow metamorphosis. Perhaps I should put up one of my pictures.

I located one of my favorite signs I’d made. There were no words on it, but it had a painted wagon with a small jar attached that could hold real or fake flowers. Since I hadn’t wanted maintenance, I had put fake sunflowers in it.

I replaced one of Mom’s store-bought watercolor pictures with it. More items I should bring into the house came to mind, along with a plan to fill some boxes.

How did Jasper have the answer to so much? He’d given me a simple idea that I hadn’t come up with myself. Doubt continued to follow me around every corner. Between the house and the resort, I had no idea how I would do any of it.

Now it was beach time. After packing a few drinks and snacks for the afternoon, I went outside and paced the porch, wringing my hands. If anyone saw me at the beach with my employee, I could tell them I was doing research. Getting a ground-level look at what beachgoers would want.

Yeah, I wouldn’t buy that either. Yet I couldn’t cancel. I needed this. I needed to do something besides work, and so far, Jasper was the only one who could get me off the resort.

Jasper’s pickup rolled down the drive. I smoothed my hands over the black-and-pink athletic shorts and tugged down the shirt I’d thrown on over my bathing suit. My fingers shook with the tiniest tremble. I’d slept over with the man twice. Why was I nervous about a trip to the public beach?

Yet, from the scruff on his jaw and the smile that was visible through the windshield to the way he drove with his window down and his arm resting in the opening, he was nothing if not approachable. I’d never met someone so handsome who also wasn’t intimidating.

I had been intimidated by most men, to be honest—by a lot of people. Firing Constance had been my first step in learning how to keep some steel in my spine.

I waved at Jasper like I had no shame about the other morning, and I sort of didn’t. When would I get a whole man pillow like him again? Picking up the tote I’d packed with picnic supplies, I jogged down the porch steps and met him before he got out.

“Morning, boss,” he said as I climbed into the passenger seat.

Awareness tickled down my spine. The way he said boss was more like an endearment than a reminder of who I really was to him. “Morning. I packed some food.”

He adopted a lopsided grin as he pulled away. “Got a six-pack hidden in there?”

“No. Lemonade only.” Otherwise, I might end up naked on the beach.

He was about to roll up his window when he turned onto the road, but I put mine down. It was only a half-mile drive to the dock and the beach was next to that. The wind kicked through the cab, filling it with the smell of the wildflowers in the pastures and the metallic tang of the lake. The smell of my childhood. A scent so ingrained in me, I didn’t realize how much I missed it until I got it back.

When he turned toward the dock, trees crowded the road. A pickup hauling a fishing boat could be seen backing into the water. Two more waited behind him, and other pickups with empty trailers lined the parking lot. Jasper drove past them to the smaller lot only yards from an open beach.

How had I not been here since I arrived? There was a narrow but well-worn path from the resort to the water. It was the best we could offer guests, and they used it. I had quit morning walks or even just time off unless Jasper gave me an excuse to cut loose.

I needed to do that on my own.

We hopped out of the pickup. To our left, a grassy hill gently rolled upward toward the resort. Small copses of trees interspersed the space between here and there, but there was one break in them that would be perfect for a walking path. Only none of that land was the resort’s.

He retrieved a backpack from the back seat. Then he took the tote from me, and it gave me a second to get over my shock.

“You’re in shorts.” I stated the obvious, but it was so un-Jasperlike that I couldn’t help it. He’d been sitting, and I’d been so focused on my own foray into the bay I’d grown up in that his attire hadn’t registered. No jeans. No boots. He had a ball cap in his hand, and he flopped it on his head. His legs were muscular, tan, and lightly dusted with hair. I thought he looked good in jeans, but in shorts, he was sporty hot instead of rugged hot.

“I’m a chameleon.”

Laughing, I followed him off the gravel of the parking lot to a few big boulders that remained on the beach for people to sit on, just feet from the waterline. Rocky sand filled generous square footage from the rolling hills around the bay to the glittering blue water. Waves gently kissed the shore.

My relaxation was instant. “You’re telling me you didn’t wear boots at your computer job?”

“You’d be surprised what I wore in the office.” He winked. “I worked from home a lot, and sometimes, I just threw on a shirt for an online meeting.”

A pantsless Jasper. My heart skipped a beat. “I can’t get away with that.”

His grin was unrepentant. “I wouldn’t complain if you tried.” He set the tote on the flattest part of the rock. There were a few cigarette butts on the ground, so he brushed sand over them with his shoe. “Want to eat first?”

“Sure.”

He had brought big beach blankets. There wasn’t enough space on the rocks, so he picked a clean part of the sand next to them and spread a blanket out. I sat down and placed my container of sandwiches and chips in the middle. I might be spending much of the day with Jasper, but I didn’t need to be in his lap.

What would a day like that be like? Curled up on a couch or in a bed, with nothing to do but whatever we wanted. We could linger in bed in the morning and then move to the couch and watch a movie. Take a walk hand in hand. Cook a meal together.