27. Jacob

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

jacob

I finish putting the horses up and unhook the horse trailer from my truck. Aside from Lacey getting thrown from her horse, I couldn't have asked for our date to have gone any better than it did. She is perfect, and Jalynn is right about her being a once-in-a-lifetime-type of girl. I should have asked her out a long time ago.

I'm still curious about the person she left in North Carolina. It was most likely a boyfriend, but she didn't say. Her growing trepidation was palpable as the conversation continued. I fucking hated seeing her like that, so I did the first thing that came to mind in the moment and started spouting off random facts like I was a damn National Geographic reporter or something. It seemed to work, though. Her body began to relax, and she even snuggled into me, surrounding me with her fresh vanilla scent.

I would move mountains to protect her. She's strong and brave and has a mind of her own but at a moment's notice can turn hesitant and uncertain. I'm certain the person from her past is the reason for it somehow. Maybe I'll ask Jalynn about it when I get a chance.

The next morning I wake up with a smile on my face and Lacey on my mind. I roll over and reach for my cell phone charging on my nightstand. Pulling up Lacey's name, I shoot her a text. I should probably play it cool and not make myself appear so eager, but I think we are past that already.

I get dressed for work, still on my high from last night. On my way into town, I check my phone to see if Lacey has responded. Nothing. She should be on her way to work right now. Hopefully she didn't oversleep. Finally, I decide to give her a call, but my call is sent straight to voicemail. I frown at the phone and drop it in the seat beside me. Did I misread her last night? Is she having second thoughts?

I only allow myself to text Lacey once more and then busy myself with work. It's proving to be an ineffective way of getting my mind off her. I'm distracted and can't seem to stop checking my phone. Unable to hold off any longer, I jump in my truck and head across town to the flower shop.

Lacey spins around to face me as the bells over the flower shop door ring. A smile spreads across her face. That's a good sign.

"Hey, is everything okay?" I ask as I walk up to the counter where she's standing.

"Yeah, why?"

"Are we okay? No second thoughts from last night?"

"No, no second thoughts. Why?"

"I've been trying to get in touch with you this morning."

"Oh...Oh!" Lacey pulls her phone out of her back pocket. I watch her press the power button and her phone chimes. "I had my phone off. You remember Jared? Apparently, Jared has a girlfriend. She found my number in his phone and isn't very happy about it."

I walk around the counter to where she's standing, wrap my arms around her waist, and kiss the top of her head. Lacey snuggles into my chest.

"Here, let me see your phone. I want to see what this chick is saying."

Lacey hands me the phone. I take a couple of minutes to listen to the long, threatening voicemails and to read the crazy text messages. Finishing the last message, I shake my head, block the number on Lacey's phone, and return it to her pocket for her.

"You sure know how to pick them," I say.

"What does that say about you?" she asks and turns in my arms to face me.

"No, you see, I chose you."

I lean down and plant a soft kiss on her lips.

"Oh!" My mom's surprised voice rings out.

She's just walked through the swinging door into the storefront. Lacey pulls away, a blush spreading across her cheeks. She's fucking cute when she's embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, dears. I didn't mean to interrupt," Mom says, her eyes darting back and forth between the two of us curiously.

"It's okay, Mother," I say. "I was just about to head out."

I can tell she's internally celebrating this new development. I give them each a hug and go back to work.

Holding out a hand to Lacey, I help her down from the cab of my truck. Her touch sends sparks down my arm and into my core. Lacey slides out of the seat, her boots land on the dirt lot, but her eyes stay locked on mine. I give her a gentle tug, and she lets herself fall into me. I wrap my arms around her and press a kiss to her lips. She kisses me back, then pulls away toward the bed of the truck, her hand still firmly in mine.

Lacey rises up on her toes, trying to grab our packs from the bed of the truck. I step up behind her and rest a hand on her hip while I reach over her into the truck and grab both packs with one hand. I slide the straps of my backpack over my shoulders, then turn Lacey to face me and fasten the straps around her waist for her.

"How does that feel?" I ask, my fingers making adjustments to the fit of her backpack.

Lacey reaches up to grab the straps running down my shoulders and pulls me down to her. She kisses me, gently biting at my bottom lip, her hunger matching my own. A groan escapes me, and she takes it as encouragement to press her body firmly against mine.

"That feels perfect," Lacey whispers, her lips still hovering next to mine. I close the space between us again for another quick kiss.

"We'd better get going," I say. "I'm trying to behave myself."

"That's no fun," Lacey teases, nipping at my lip again.

"You're not making it very easy for me."

I kiss her hard, then pull her down the trailhead with me. Lacey falls in pace behind me, walking down the narrow, rocky dirt trail that winds parallel to the river. With senses already heightened from Lacey's presence, I breathe in the fresh air deeply. The river rushes by us, and occasional fish hop up for an insect hovering at the surface. The yellow flowers and tall grasses bow in the gentle breeze. A western meadowlark puffs his yellow breast from where he sits on a branch of a bush and chirps a cheerful tune. It's stunning. It never gets old coming down to this canyon.

I glance back at Lacey, checking to make sure she is managing okay, and am surprised by how naturally she fits in to the magnificent scene around her. It's almost as though we're on a movie set, every minute detail carefully thought out and placed. I can't help smiling to myself. Somehow I've captured this alluring woman's attention, and somehow she's stolen my heart. As if on cue, Lacey looks up with a wide grin on her face, clearly as content in nature as I am. This girl is trouble.

I take a step off the side of the path, pause to offer Lacey my hand, and help her down the rocky bank toward the river. We set our gear down, and I prepare the line for fishing. Lacey watches quietly as I get everything set up for her. Leading her down to the water, I hand her the rod and stand behind her, my hand over hers.

"Start with the rod up close to the water," I say quietly into Lacey's ear. She relaxes into me. "Give yourself about four feet of fly line but no slack. You're going to bring it up to about here"—I show her with my hand—"then flick it forward again. That will give you a good backcast." I guide her through the backcast, then pause to let the line unwind behind us. "Now we're going to cast forward. We're going to swing it back forward and point where we want it to land."

With another flick of our joined hands over the rod, the line goes hurling forward again and plops onto the water. Lacey tries casting several more times. Eventually, she hands the rod over to me, letting me take over.

"You done already?" I ask, concerned that she might want to leave.

"I'm ready to watch the master at his craft," Lacey responds.

Lacey heads over to our packs and has a seat on the ground. She leans back against a large rock and watches me. The worry that she is ready to head back home slowly drifts off as I study her. She flips her backpack over and unzips the front pocket. She pulls out a sketchbook and some pencils that I didn't see her pack. Propping the sketchbook on her thighs, she picks a pencil and focuses on the white page in front of her.

I go back to fishing, but I can feel her eyes watching me. I wonder what she's sketching. I haven't seen her sketch and didn't know it was something she knew how to do. Eventually, the sketchbook is set aside, and I watch her slink toward me. She stops on the edge of the riverbank, an impish grin slowly taking over her face. When I glance back at my line, she takes the opportunity for a surprise attack.

The next thing I know, she's landed on my back, twisting me down into the water with her. Sputtering but still grasping the rod in one hand, I resurface and pull Lacey back up with me. Lacey cackles and grabs for my baseball cap that is trying to float away down the river. She puts the soggy hat on her head and tries to make a quick escape to the bank.

"What was that for?" I call after her over the sound of the rushing water.

"You were looking too sexy down there in the water. I thought I'd help cool ya down."

She stands still in the water, several feet away from me, apparently afraid to get too close.

"Hmmm." I nod my head, plotting my own attack. "Come over here."

"I think I'm just fine down here," Lacey says, stifling a giggle.

"You're wearing my hat."

"It looks better on me" She shrugs, not missing a beat.

"I can't argue with that," I agree. "I think we are done with fishing."

I walk to the bank to put up our fishing gear, and Lacey follows along at a safe distance, undoubtedly feeling like the champion of our unspoken war.

Back up on the bank, I open my backpack and pull out the small insulated pack with our cold food. Lacey takes her seat again as I lay out the food, and she divvies it up between our two plates, giving me an unguarded moment to retaliate. Grabbing a handful of ice from the insulated pack, I make quick work of dropping it down the front of her shirt.

Lacey jumps to her feet, dancing and hollering, as she tries to untuck the wet shirt from her pants. Now it's my turn to laugh. I'm a good sport, though, and graciously offer my assistance.

"Come here. I'll dig the ice out of your shirt for you."

"You, sir," Lacey says, pointing an accusatory finger at me, "can keep your grubby paws to your damn self."

Lacey finishes shaking the ice out of her shirt and gives me a dirty look as she sits back down to finish dishing out our lunch. I laugh and lean in to kiss her cheek.

"It's a good thing you're cute," she says.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Otherwise, this day might have a completely different ending for you," Lacey teases and hands me a plate.

That's when I notice her sketchpad again. This time it's sitting off to the side of her, open. I scoop it up and study the page.

"Gypsy, this is really good," I say. "I didn't know you draw."

Her page shows the image of a man fishing in the river with the mountains behind him. She's captured every last curve, shadow, and wrinkle. It's clear from the details of the sketch that the man is me.

"I used to sketch all of the time. It's been a while."

"Why did you stop?"

"I only draw when inspiration hits," she says with a shrug and focuses on her plate. "It's been a while since I've felt inspired."

"You should feel inspired more often. You're too good to let this talent go to waste."

"Then I guess you'd better stick around."

I respond with a kiss. Hell yeah, I'm gonna stick around. I've never had this much to lose before she came along and conquered my heart. Now, I can't imagine myself anywhere but with her.