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“Yes, very funny, telling me to duck and all.” He shook his head, imagining how ridiculous he must have looked. “But if you promise not to have anyone else jump out and surprise me, I think my heart can take it.”
“They didn’t jump!”
Laughing, Del continued her drive south through downtown then headed west, eventually pulling into a gravel lot beside a very old building.
“And this,” she said, shifting into park, “is one of the town’s most iconic sites—the original Bourbon Falls Train Depot. It’s actually listed on the National Register of Historic Places. The old depot gets quite a few visitors each year from historians to travelers passing through, so the parks department makes sure to keep its grounds nice and tidy. You can see they’ve laid newer tracks just south of here, but nothing ever went in on its north side, which means we have plenty of room for—”
“A talent show?”
“Bingo.” She gave him a wink. “No one out here but us this time. Wanna see it close up?”
Isaac scanned the area, trying to confirm they were the only ones around. Truthfully, he did enjoy sightseeing, when he wasn’t busy hiding from the world. “I don’t know. Maybe?”
“Trust me, the only souls who come here this time of night are teenagers sneaking out or the ghosts that haunt this place.”
“Ghosts?” he said. “Then maybe we should add hermits to the list.”
Her smile broadened, giving Isaac the courage to follow her outside.
A lone light hung from a nearby utility pole, illuminating the entrance to a chained-off area and an aged placard containing verbiage on the depot’s history. Inside the chains stood the old wooden depot, paint peeling from its whitewashed siding above a crumbling, stone block foundation. On the depot’s far side were the skeletal remains of what appeared to be its original covered boarding platform, which stretched maybe thirty feet alongside an abandoned rail line.
“It’s like taking a step back in time,” Isaac murmured, peering into the shadows.
“Welcome to a decade before the Civil War. Cool, huh?”
“Very.”
They walked around the site, her leading the way and him in no hurry to leave. With no one else here, this was exactly the kind of fresh air he’d been hoping to find. Maybe if he could figure out how to get here, he’d come back again with Louie. After dark, of course.
“Do you think this helped tonight?” Del asked. “The tour?”
“I do.” He scanned the depot, then shifted his gaze toward the soft glow of lights coming from downtown. “Before, it was just me driving through a cute little town. Now I have some perspective about why it’s so cute.”
She turned to him, eyes narrowed. “You think my hometown is ‘cute’?”
“Sorry, quaint. Unique. Is that better?”
“Such a city kid. Come on,” she said, motioning toward a nearby picnic table sheltered beneath a tree with long, arching branches. “We can sit over here while we strategize.”
“Strategize?”
“Or make out.” She shrugged. “I figure I’ll leave that decision up to you.”
Isaac swallowed hard. He’d nearly broken his pledge in the truck a few minutes ago; her raw honesty about the importance of her family bookstore called to him. But then Brooklyn had arrived—again, now that he thought about it—and maybe it’d been divine intervention.
Now, he wasn’t so sure.
He followed her to the picnic table, where she sat and patted the seat beside her. Moonlight was all they had to illuminate the area here, diminished further by the tree’s canopy overhead. Isaac took a seat in the intimate setting, his leg accidentally brushing against hers. The unexpected touch left him craving more.
“Kinda wishing I hadn’t pledged not to kiss you again.”
“Oh?” She shifted to straddle the bench, her knees brushing against his.
“I mean, that’d be the right thing to do, of course. Keep business and pleasure…separate.”
“What if we both promised to hold up our end of the bargain no matter what? Does that make it easier on your conscience? ’Cuz I’m thinking it’d make it way easier on mine.”
She leaned closer, her floral fragrance and boldness undermining his resolve. Isaac shifted to face her. Forever may not be in their future, but he’d be a fool to let this moment with her slip through his fingers. He ducked to trace the shell of her ear with his lips.
