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Chapter Two
Jackson stood under the overhang at the front door of his cottage as Isabel plowed through the mud toward the cottage next door. He half expected to wake up in bed, all of this having been a dream, but his forearms still tingled from where her hands had touched him.
This was no dream.
He let himself into the cottage and removed his wet and filthy work boots, leaving them on a mat to dry out. Flicking on a light by the couch and putting his phone, wallet, and keys on an end table as he passed through the small living room, he headed for the bathroom and peeled off his soaked clothes. He stepped into the shower after cranking the water to hot. As the spray hit him, he shook his head.
“Isabel Freakin’ Perri. Holy shit.” He braced his hands on the tiled wall in front of him, still finding it hard to believe he’d seen her. Of all people. He’d been in Vermont for a few weeks now and had been spotted by former friends, all of the interactions cordial.
Except this one.
Jackson couldn’t blame her, he supposed. They hadn’t parted on what anyone would consider good terms. They also hadn’t spoken since then. If tonight’s encounter told him anything, it screamed that Isabel hadn’t forgiven him. In fact, her opinion of him had lowered so much she actually thought he’d hurt a dog.
Her dog.
He shampooed his hair, rinsed, and jerked the knob to shut off the water. Toweling off and sliding on a pair of cotton shorts, Jackson supposed he could have been a bit friendlier himself. He’d basically accused her of neglecting her dog, but she’d surprised him. The moment she’d stepped into the light, he knew it was her, despite her being mostly covered by an oversized raincoat.
He’d never forget her face. Never. Even with her brows furrowed and her mouth a stern line as she’d berated him, Isabel Perri was gorgeous. He imagined her blond hair was still soft and silky, her body still petite yet toned. She’d had no trouble handling her dog’s bulk when he’d finally released the pup to her. She’d marched away without a waver in her step. He hadn’t been particularly fond of watching her march away.
She probably hadn’t liked when he’d done it either. That had been years ago, back when they were in high school, but clearly she hadn’t forgotten.
Neither had he.
He’d hooked up with some chicks here and there while getting his degree and on digs, but something always kept him from passing the hook-up stage.
That something was Isabel Perri.
But what was she doing back here in Maplehaven? Last he’d heard, she’d moved to Pennsylvania. Not that he was keeping tabs on her. Much. And was she actually staying at Pine River Cottages? Right next door to him?
Jackson blew out a breath as he padded on bare feet into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Scanning the shelves, he remembered Nicole’s container of chili still in the Wrangler.
“Dammit.”
He stormed into the bedroom and pulled on a T-shirt, a pair of rubber boots, and a poncho he’d used on many digs when the weather turned wet. He blew out to the jeep, grabbed the container, noting the mud splattered on the back seat where Isabel’s dog had been, then sprinted back into the cottage. Lifting the lid on the container, he gave the chili a sniff. He deemed it safe and, after removing the boots and poncho, put the container in the refrigerator and took out a bottle of water for himself. He twisted the cap and gulped for a few long seconds.
Sitting on the couch, he leaned forward to grab his laptop and check on some of the leads he had for new funding, but his brain was still a little too scrambled from the evening’s events. He’d gone from worried over the hurt dog to shocked over seeing Isabel. What the heck was she doing back in Maplehaven?
Jackson picked up his phone and hit his brother Landon’s contact.
“Hey, little bro,” Landon said. “Are you calling to say you’re leaving Vermont?”
“No.” His brothers had been giving him shit about how long—or how short—he’d stick around Maplehaven. Truth was, he didn’t intend to stay longer than was absolutely necessary. Once money flowed his way again, he was out of here.
“What’s up then?” Landon asked. “I’ve got to get back on air in three minutes and fourteen seconds.
“Oh, shit. Sorry.” He’d forgotten Landon did his radio show at this time each night during the week. “A quick question. Did you know Isabel Perri was in town?”
“I did not.” Landon’s voice sounded as surprised as Jackson had been seeing the woman tonight. “How do you know she is?”
“I saw her. I think she’s staying in the cottage next door to mine.”
“Well, her grandfather owns Pine River Cottages.”
“He does?” Jackson clearly remembered Isabel’s grandfather, Eugene. Super nice guy who had always welcomed him into their home.
“Yeah,” Landon said. “He bought it several years ago. Isabel must be visiting.”
“Must be.” And why hadn’t any of his brothers told him Eugene owned the cottages before he’d rented one?
