10. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

Max

H unched over my desk in the trailer, all I could think about was that kiss, even though two days had passed and we were back at work. I was trying to pretend everything was normal, but not having much success. I'd decided to spend Monday morning in the trailer, trusting Brooks to get the footage while I worked on drafting some shots and clips I wanted to get, in addition to scripting some of the interviews. As I worked, though, my mind wandered back to Jake, over and over. The way his breath caught in his throat as we kissed. The gentle way he opened to me. His soft tone when he placed his hand on mine and told me he understood.

I deeply regretted fleeing the scene of the kiss.

I'd spent the weekend doing internet research on our letter writers, to no avail. It was clear that I'd hit a wall. Without last names, I had nothing. I needed Jake's help, which was why I'd gone to his house in the first place. I'd just panicked and screwed everything up first.

Jake lived in Port Grandlin—he'd know what resources were available, he'd understand how to find things, and he'd probably have connections to the gatekeepers that I'd never be able to get past on my own. I needed him, in more ways than one, and I was determined to get his help.

By the end of the day, nerves fluttered through me every time I looked at him. As the crew began to disperse, I took a deep breath and approached him, hoping it wouldn't be too awkward.

I started to reach for his shoulder but thought better of it, pulling my hand away. "Hey, do you have a minute?"

Jake looked up from his phone and frowned. "What's wrong?"

"I was wondering… could we talk? In private?" I didn't want anyone to overhear anything about the letters until I was certain we could use them in the show—or at least until I knew what I was going to do with them.

He glanced around at the remaining crew members, but nobody was paying attention to us. "Okay."

I led the way to the trailer and once the door was shut, I took a deep breath. Before I could say a word, Jake spoke.

"If this is about Friday night—"

"It's not," I said, cutting him off. "I wanted to talk about the letters again. I need your help."

He furrowed his brow. "How so?"

"I'm stuck. I can't find last names and I don't have any clue how to figure out who Nathan and Freddie were. I don't know what my next steps are."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I've dealt with this a little bit when it comes to restoring old houses. You probably need land deeds. Maybe the census records. From there, you can check out birth and death records probably. News clippings will only get you so far."

I snapped my fingers and pointed at him. "I didn't think of the census. That's smart."

He shrugged and backed up as if he were about to leave. "Anything else?"

"Would you… go with me? Help me do the research? You know this town better than I do, and I bet you have inroads that I'll never have."

He snorted and shook his head. "I'm not exactly known for being Mister Charming."

"You know who to ask for. You can introduce me. I really need your help. Please."

He sighed and shook his head. "Okay, fine. I'll meet you at the library in an hour."

"Deal."

Exactly one hour later, I was at the library, ready and waiting for Jake to arrive. I took a seat at a table near the entrance and tried not to stare at the sliding doors. He didn't keep me waiting long, arriving just a few minutes later in jeans and a T-shirt that showed off his muscular frame, the short sleeves stretching around his biceps. I swallowed hard and tried to redirect my thoughts.

Jake nodded at me and then headed to the librarian's desk without a word. I scurried up behind him and put on my best smile when we reached the desk.

"What can I do for you gentlemen?" The librarian was on the younger side—about my age, maybe a little younger, around thirty years old, and she had a complicated braid holding back her thick brown hair.

Jake tilted his head in my direction. "Jenny, this is Max. He's in town working on that reality show on my job site."

Her smile lit up her face. "That's really exciting. How are things going with that?"

I put on my most professional smile and leaned on the counter. "They're going great, actually. But we need some help doing research on something we found in the house."

"What was it?"

"A stack of letters. I want to see if I can figure out who the letter writers were and what happened to them."

Jenny sighed dreamily. "That's so sweet! Well, you're welcome to go down in the archives. I'll walk you down there."

Score . "Thank you so much. That's perfect." We followed her downstairs to the library basement, where rows and rows of bookshelves and filing cabinets were collecting dust.

"Not many people come down here, but you're welcome to look around as much as you need. We close in two hours." We thanked her, and with that, she hurried back upstairs, leaving the two of us alone.

My stomach churned with so many feelings—excitement over the possibility of getting more information on the letter writers, anxiety over how Jake would behave, and a yearning to kiss him again.

"Guess we'd better get to it then," he said gruffly.

I put the folder of letters on a table and we went our separate ways—Jake searching for land deeds, me searching for census records on the computer that was set up for library patrons to use. I searched through the files, looking for the census records closest to when the letter was written—1920. Eventually I found what I was looking for and called out to Jake.

"I think I've got something."

He emerged from the stacks with a huge book in his hands. "I found the land deeds."

"And I've got the census. Let's cross-reference."

He flipped through until he found deeds tracking the house in question and started reading off names while I scrolled through census records to check for the same names.

"Wait a second. Did you say Ruth Wilson?" He looked at me sharply.

I double-checked the record before nodding. "Yeah. Why? Do you have something there?"

"I just… Ruth Wilson is my grandmother."

Looking at the census record one more time, I took a deep breath. "Well, it looks like her father was named Frederick. Maybe he's our Freddie?"

Jake shook his head. "Probably just a coincidence."

"I don't know. It lines up. Check the previous deed for the property."

He flipped a few pages before finding what he was looking for and ran his finger along the page as he read. "Frederick Thompson."

Turning to the computer again, I looked back at the census records. "Frederick Thompson, children Ruth and John."

"John… Thompson?" Jake's face went from confusion to wide-eyed clarity, his furrowed brow relaxing as it sank in. "My grandmother's brother is John Thompson."

"Oh. So you think Freddie was your—"

"My great-grandfather. Yeah." We were quiet for a few moments, just looking at one another, holding each other's gaze. When Jake spoke again, his voice was soft. "My great-grandfather was gay."

"We don't know that. We can't assume his sexuality."

He huffed out a breath. "Maybe not, but he was in love with a man."

"That much we do know." I moved from the computer desk to sit next to Jake, peering at the deed he had open. "We need to keep digging to find out more."

"So, who was Nathan?"

"I don't know, but we'll figure it out." A beat passed. "I have something I want to tell you."

His brow furrowed and he tipped his head to the side a tiny bit. "Okay."

"I'm not sorry about our kiss."

"Oh."

I took a deep breath, turned to face him, and looked directly at Jake. "I'd like to do it again."