Page 95 of Close to Heaven

“Yes, ma’am,” Cody replied.

Jax smiled, relieved that his brother had charmed the guests out of their frustration. Jax was better at managing the day-to-day operations, but Cody excelled at customer relations.

“We’ll move your bags as soon as you’re ready,” Jax said.

The family immediately dispersed to start packing up. Once they were out of earshot, Jax said, “Thanks, man. It was pretty tense around here before you showed up.”

Cody grinned. “You mean you didn’t charm them like you did Avery?”

Jax rolled his eyes. He should have known Cody wouldn’t just accept the compliment without throwing out a jab.

“I’m teasing you. The truth is, I’m jealous. You got yourself a great girl.”

Jax waited for the punch line, but none came.

“You’re jealous of me? You’ve never had any trouble getting women.”

“That’s different.”

“How so?”

“The women I’ve been with haven’t really mattered to me, not the way Avery matters to you.”

Jax stared at his brother like he was truly seeing him for the first time. He’d thought Cody was perfectly content playing the field, but maybe that had been a ruse. Or maybe his little brother was finally growing up.

“On the other hand, there are still a lot of women out there I haven’t met yet.”

Jax chuckled. Okay, so maybe his brother wasn’t quite there yet. “Come on. Let me show you what the plumber found.”

By the time he and Cody had moved the family into their new cabin, it was dark outside. There was no use in driving up to Clingman’s Dome now. As one of the highest points in the Smoky Mountains National Park, it was best appreciated in the daytime, when you could see for miles in every direction—if the fog wasn’t too thick, that is.

Still, after he finished up with his guests, Jax drove back down the hill to Avery’s cabin, thinking he might show up and surprise her instead of calling. However, when Sweet Dreams came into view, he noticed her car wasn’t there. His shoulders sagged with defeat.

The day hadn’t gone at all as planned, and now he was tired, hungry, and missed his girl. My girl? That was how he’d started thinking of her, and he wondered how she’d feel about it. He pulled into her empty driveway and took out his phone. Even though she wasn’t home, he’d promised to call, and he always kept his promises. However, when he turned the phone on, he saw she’d sent him a text message over an hour ago.

Since you were busy, I decided to go visit my dad. See you tomorrow at the office.

He read the message and groaned. Not only had he missed her, but now he had to wait until tomorrow to see her. Plus, they’d be at work, which meant they wouldn’t have much privacy. Business always picked up around the holidays, and the resort would be hopping from now until the new year.

Sighing, he backed out of the driveway and drove back up the hill to his cabin. Smoky greeted him when he opened the door, and then the dog looked past him as if he were expecting somebody else.

“Sorry, buddy. It’s just you and me tonight.”

Smoky gave him a woeful look and followed Jax into the kitchen in search of food. Jax filled Smoky’s food and water bowls and then opened the refrigerator. He took out leftover turkey, stuffing, and potatoes, fixed a plate, and reheated it in the microwave. A few minutes later, he sat down at the table with the food and a beer.

Glancing around, he thought how quiet and empty his house seemed. Since when do I mind being alone? He usually relished his alone time. In fact, he felt sorry for people who didn’t know how to be alone. Now it seemed too quiet; the silence was so thick it felt suffocating.

He’d grown up in a house bursting with noise and activity, but after his parents had died, he’d only wanted to be alone. He’d decided it was easier that way. He was responsible for himself (and Smoky), and that was all he felt capable of.

Had he finally made it through the tunnel of grief and emerged on the other side? It sounded so clichéd, yet it was the only reasonable explanation. Now he had a new reason for living that had nothing to do with managing the resort. Avery had helped him emerge from the darkness without even knowing it.

Before, he could only point to a few things that made him truly happy. Now he’d discovered what it was like to care about somebody more than himself, to want to make her smile and laugh, to protect her, and—he took a deep breath—to love her.

I love Avery.

He tried saying it aloud. “I…love…Avery.” He said it nice and slow, like he was testing the words on his tongue.

“I love Avery.” This time, the words came out smooth as silk.