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I’d been flying high since the night Jake stayed overnight. We’d gotten together a few other times in the past few weeks, always at my place.
I’d wait on the porch for him, and as soon as I heard the rumble of his motorcycle coming down the lane, my heart would thump harder. When he took the few steps to the porch, I’d hop into his arms, wrapping my legs around his hips as his lips met mine.
My brain knew this was fleeting. The real Jake—the one who eschewed commitment—could return at any moment. The one who probably believed he didn’t deserve me, or whatever was happening between us. But I’d enjoy it in the meantime.
After we exchanged orgasms, I’d rest my head on his shoulder while he told me about his dreams for the garage. He wanted to branch out into restoring more antique cars. That’s where his passion lay, but he needed the steady income that routine repairs provided.
I listened, providing encouragement when it was called for, but didn’t tell him what to do. He needed to figure that out on his own. I knew he couldn’t be pushed. He was stubborn.
I loved that about him. That he was so steadfast with his plans for the future. He was slow to make decisions because he carefully considered all the angles. Sometimes, I wondered if he only considered the potential pitfalls versus the amazing progress he’d make if he listened to Ryan’s suggestions.
I knew he wouldn’t welcome my opinion. He’d put me in this box where we had sex and shared our thoughts, but he wouldn’t allow more. We wouldn’t be going on a date in town, to dinner, or to a drive-in movie. Logically, I knew we were both too busy for anything like that, but it still stung.
Despite my better judgment, I wanted more. If I let myself dream of the future, I wanted everything with him. Things between us were so easy when he wasn’t fighting it.
This morning, I planned to meet with Gia to walk the grounds of the farm to plan Zoe and Max’s wedding.
With the others’ help, I’d managed to empty the barn of everything but the limited-edition Tiger Gold Pontiac GTO that was still under a tarp.
I hadn’t brought it up to Jake because I didn’t want to burst whatever bubble surrounded our tenuous relationship. He’d been so excited when he first saw it, but then he hadn’t mentioned it again. Was he waiting for me? Or was he not interested in helping me to restore and sell it?
It was probably a lot of work, and he was already doing so much for me with Berta.
I waited on the porch, in the wooden rocker that had sat here since my grandmother was alive. I’d made fresh lemonade this morning, and the pitcher sat on the small table next to me. When Gia’s SUV slowly made its way down the lane, I stood, waiting for her on the steps.
Gia opened her door and climbed out. She turned and took in the farmhouse. I held my breath, not sure what she would think of my family’s home.
Gia breathed in and looked at me. “This is incredible. I can’t believe you’ve been keeping this to yourself.”
I stepped off the porch and backed away from the house to see it from her perspective. White siding with a large porch that wrapped around the first floor and expanded in the back, and an equally large deck on the second. The upper-floor deck was unusual for a farmhouse, but it was one of the things my grandparents had loved about the house.
Gia nodded toward the first-floor porch. “I can see wedding photographs being taken here.”
“You have to see the other side.” My excitement picked up now that she seemed interested. I led the way around the porch to the back.
I had memories of Grandpa dragging a large dollhouse onto the porch, where I played with the dolls and furniture for hours as the rain softly fell overhead.
“This is perfect,” Gia said softly as she ran her hand over the white railings. Wide steps led to the flat yard, with trees lining the path to the area.
Gia gestured toward the flat expanse a short walk from the porch. “I can see ceremonies held there with the pond as the backdrop. Cocktail reception here. Mingling after the ceremony while Abby takes pictures. And the reception?”
“We could hold it outside under tents, or we could offer the barn.” Gia could have anything delivered—dance floors, tables, and tents—if we needed them.
“Can you show me the barn?” Gia asked, heading down the steps and toward the red barn. “I love having the option of an indoor space. No bride likes to think about the possibility of rain, but it’s a reality.”
I hurried to catch up to her. The barn was a newer addition to the farm. As it hadn’t been used for any farm operations, it was in good shape. The red paint was only slightly faded, giving it a rustic feel.
“There’s electricity inside. My grandfather stored a vintage car inside and wanted it protected from the elements.”
Gia smiled wider as we paused in front of the open doorway. “You answered my next question.” She turned her head to take in the space. “This is even better than I imagined.”
That was high praise coming from her. I led her inside and flipped on the overhead lights.
Gia wandered the room, examining everything, and I could see the wheels turning in her head. “The tables could go here. The stage over there.” She gestured to the front and then the back.
“That’s what I was thinking.”
Her eyes met mine with a gleam. “This is perfect.”
