Page 43 of Worth the Trip

I climbed into the car before he found another reason to make me laugh, closed the door, and sat behind the wheel while my heartbeat attempted to remember the rhythm it had possessed before Landon stepped into that service lane.

Through the windshield, I watched him disappear into the festival crowd wearing my peach tea and carrying what remained of his Hershey bar with almonds.

My fingers found the pendant at my throat.

This time, I knew exactly why.

Saturday sunlight stretched across the cabin floor, and for once, nothing had the audacity to wake me before I was ready.

I stayed under the thin white sheet for a few minutes, listening to water move along the shoreline beyond the open window. No whistle. No phone vibrating itself across a nightstand. No player calling because he’d suddenly remembered a question he could’ve asked yesterday. My body felt heavy from actual sleep instead of the accumulated disrespect of running on four or five hours, and I had enough sense to recognize the difference.

I sat on the edge of the bed, planted both feet on the floor, and bowed my head.

“Thank You for rest, Lord. Thank You for covering my family while I’m away and reminding me that the world can keep turning without my hand on every wheel. Watch over Mama. Strengthen Daddy. Keep Lennox focused, protected, and humble enough to hear correction before consequences have to raise their voice. And if You see fit to put that woman back in my path, I promise I’ll manage the opportunity better this time. Amen.”

I lifted my head, already smiling.

A woman I’d known less than twenty-four hours had officially made the prayer list.

That felt worth documenting.

My white T-shirt hung over the chair by the window with yesterday’s peach-tea stain spread across the front like somebody had preserved the evidence for trial. Beside my keys sat the wrapper from the replacement Hershey bar I’d bought after leaving the festival. I’d eaten it. It had been perfectly fine.

Still hadn’t hit the same.

Apparently, once pink sandals, a silver pendant, and a woman with a smart mouth got attached to chocolate, the baseline changed.

Nolani.

I liked her name. Simple as that. I’d said it a few times after getting back to the cabin, partly because I liked how it sounded and partly because the woman attached to it had stayed on my mind longer than common sense could explain after one accidental collision.

Hershey still fit better than she wanted to admit.

Yesterday had given me enough information to know I was interested and nowhere near enough to know what that interest would become. She was beautiful. That had been obvious before she emptied peach tea across my chest. But fine women existed everywhere. Beauty alone had never made me spend the rest of my evening replaying a conversation.

Nolani had.

The way she argued when she knew I was teasing her. The way her fingers found that pendant whenever I caught her off guard. The way she laughed once she stopped trying to hold it back. The fact that she’d watched me help that little boy before she knew I was paying any attention to her at all.

Yeah.

I wanted another conversation.

And I’d let her leave without asking for a number.

That part still irritated me.

She’d told me she needed to get Nana’s tea back before a card game, and once she said she had somewhere to be, that was enough. I wasn’t the man who heard a woman state a boundary and started negotiating like her schedule was a contract dispute. But respecting her time and asking whether I could call her later were not mutually exclusive concepts.

I had overcorrected.

Coach Brooks had reviewed the film.

Adjustment noted.

My phone rang before I could get too deep into evaluating my own poor clock management.

Mama.