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There stood the last man I’d ever expected to follow me here.
Tall, broad-shouldered, excessively handsome Damian Fairchild.
Brooding, moody, excessively intelligent Damian.
MyDamian. At least, I’d thought.
He walked toward me, hands stuffed into jeans pockets, wearing a thin black parka. Seeing him here, in the context of our hometown, sent me tumbling into the past. Yet he was all adult, all modern Damian, his strength evident even through the thin parka, the longish but well-maintained chestnut hair falling into his eyes, his gaze so intense I thought I might unravel on the spot.
“Damian?” I breathed. “What on God’s green earth are you doing here?”
CHAPTER THIRTY
DAMIAN
My heart hammered in my chest so hard I thought Jessa could hear it. Like the Looney Tunes characters in love, hearts leaping away from chests, barely contained by skin.
This was the shit I’d tried to stay away from. This was the shit that could kill me.
But so could flying in my helicopter. So could the whiskey I consumed. So could any chance encounter on the street.
Going after Jessa was a risk, but the benefits were immeasurable. Chest-leaping arrythmia be damned.
“I wanted to see you,” I finally said, the words withering in the air between us. What I wanted was so much more than that. Seeing her here, after a week that had felt more like a year, was a greater relief than I could even begin to understand. Looking at her made sense. It made my life make sense. It let me breathe easier. “And a few other things.”
“But why did you—” She seemed to quietly scold herself. “Actually, never mind. I’ve gotta go. Maybe we can schedule a conference call or something.” She hoisted her messenger bag and marched away, her luggageclick-click-clicking on the asphalt behind her.
“I know you’re probably still mad at me,” I called out, jogging to catch up with her. I barely noticed the brisk air as I kept pace at her side. I tugged at the strap of her messenger bag. “Let me carry that.”
“I’ve got it,” she snapped.
I let her carry it, nervousness making my palms damp. I’d ditched my jacket specifically because of this. I was so anxious I was overheating. And throwing my heart on the line like this was going to only make it worse. “I heard about your plans to move home. I have to say, I’m…surprised. But if that’s the case, then I want to help however I can.”
“The severance package was enough, Damian.” It sounded like she was fighting tears. My chest tightened, and I knew I had to make this right, and fast.
“You can use my house.” The words rushed out of me. “I brought you a key. It’s out on Tyler Road, the last one in the cul-de-sac. You’ll probably want a place to call your own. A place to work on your designs in peace. I want to give you that until you…find your feet. And maybe I could see you there too.”
She stopped, looking up at me with eyes shimmering with tears. “You came all this way to say I could housesit for you? You could have just called Jeremy.”
“No, I couldn’t have,” I told her, already lost in the crystal swirl of her eyes. I could never go this long again without looking into their depths. All the confusion and pain of the last week melted away as we stood on the edge of Humm Road in the encroaching dusk, amber and scarlet hues wending their way around us and through the naked trees.
“I needed to see you,” I said. “And it’s not house sitting. It’s…more than that.” A shaky sigh escaped me as I struggled to find the right words. I had to strike that delicate balance betweengrand gestureandtotally fucking insane,without steering too far to the wrong side. “I planted autumn cherry trees.”
“What?”
“I mean, I haven’t yet. It’s too cold. But in the spring, I…” I raked a hand through my hair. “Maybe it sounds like I’m luring you there or something,” I said with a small laugh. “In a way, I guess I am. But I, I want you to feel at home. There’s ten going in at the start of spring to line the driveway at my house here. For you.”
She sighed, pinching her eyes shut, then finally turned away from me.Click-click-click.“I’ve got to go.”
“Jessa, please. Can we talk?”
She looked over her shoulder at me, then at my car idling in Jeremy’s driveway a block behind us. “Go get your car and meet me at the park. Then my family won’t be spying on us and shoving popcorn in their faces as they watch.”
Humm Park sat two more blocks north, just over a little hill. I raced back to my car, catching the quick flashes of a few faces behind Jeremy’s curtains. I’d touch base with him later; now, I needed to make Jessa understand that I’d made a mistake.
I wasn’t just sorry. I was ready to fucking grovel.
Jessa and I made it to the park at the same time. Gravel crunched under the tires of my Benz. Jessa parked her rolling luggage in its own space, draping her messenger bag over top, and zipped her coat up a little closer to her chin. She looked toward the five chain-link swings, two of them tossed over the top bar so that they couldn’t be used. A basic jungle gym sat off to the left, in the middle of a bed of rubber tire fragments.
