Page 68 of Wait for Me


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“Thanks, man. I’ll be in touch.”

We disconnect, and my fists tighten on the steering wheel. The remaining four hours of the drive are like moving through molasses. It’s like I’ve passed through a fucking wormhole and time has slowed to a crawl. I’m tormented by images of Digger with his arms around my girl. If she’s married to him… If they have a baby…

It’s after midnight when I finally turn onto the long dirt road that runs the length of the hundred-acre orchard up to the house. My SUV doesn’t make a sound as I pull in behind the foreman’s cottage.

The door is unlocked, and as promised, Sawyer has left the place ready for me. Stepping inside, the smell of old books and peach lotion brings the memories rushing back. The chair is in front of the small flat screen television… It’s all the same.

Light from the post across the yard shines through the window onto the double bed, and I can still see Noel there, beautiful as the sunset, her dark hair hanging long and silky over her small breasts. Whiskey eyes would look up at me full of so much love… Pain twists in my chest.

Turning, I pause before I close the door and look up toward the house. Her bedroom window is dark, and I realize she probably doesn’t live here anymore. I actually believed nothing would change in almost seven years? What the fuck is wrong with me?

Shutting the door, I go to the bed and sit. “What the hell am I doing here?”

Toeing off my boots and slipping out of my clothes, I crawl between the blankets and drift into a troubled sleep.

My eyes open with the sun streaming through the window, and the delicious scent of breakfast is in the air. Whatever else has changed, it still smells like it did that summer…

Sitting up in the bed, my back aches, and I can tell I drove eight hours yesterday. I wonder if I’m even up to the work I promised to do for Sawyer. Moving around the small cottage, I pull on my jeans and a long-sleeved tee, step into my boots. My hair’s longer now, and I use my fingers to slide it back, sticking a ball cap on my head.

In Nashville, coming back seemed like a dream. In reality, it feels like utter foolishness. I thought she’d still be waiting? After what I did?

A cold burst of air hits me outside. “Shit.” I step back and grab my denim jacket.

When I finally reach the back door, I hear their voices. I pause, looking inside before opening it. Noel is the first thing my eyes go to…

She’s in faded burgundy sweatpants that hang on her small waist, and she’s still so fucking gorgeous. Again, she’s reaching too far over her head for a platter, and the long-sleeved white tee she’s wearing rises, giving me a glimpse of her midriff. My breath stills at the sight of her olive skin. I remember putting my mouth on it. I remember the day she fell into my arms like an angel out of heaven.

Leon stops behind her and takes down the bowl and platter.

“Thanks.” She turns to the stove, her hair in a high ponytail with the ends grazing her shoulders.

A little voice I guess is Sawyer’s niece breaks the scene. “I want to ice skate. Uncle Leon, will you take me to ice skate?”

Leon’s voice is deeper than I remember. “I wonder if that old pond on the Hayes property ever freezes?”

“It does if it gets cold enough.” Sawyer is at the table looking at his phone. “The reservoir would, but the current is stronger in the winter.”

“I’m surprised it’s not frozen year-round. My nuts almost fell off the last time I went in there.”

“I want nuts! Pecans please!” The little girl raises her hand, and I chuckle.

“Different nuts, baby.” Noel smacks the back of Leon’s head, and he ducks.

“Ow! Hands off, woman!”

“I’ll check and see if they’re planning to do an ice-skating rink at the coliseum in Shreveport.” Noel’s voice is a touch lower, still with that slight rasp that makes it so sexy.

The memory of that freezing as shit reservoir and the day I threw her in drifts to my mind, and my stomach tightens. My heart beats in my chest as I reach for the door. This is either the best or the worst decision I’ve ever made.

“Taron?” Sawyer sees me first. “When did you get in?”

He stands out of his chair and circles the table to greet me.

“Late. After midnight. Thanks for having the place ready—”

A hollow Crash! cuts me off.

“Oh, shit…” Noel squats beside the bar cleaning up broken eggs all over the floor. The cardboard carton is on top of them.

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