“We can do better,” I teased.
“I agree. We definitely need to get some practice in though.”
“Absolutely. Practice makes perfect,” I agreed.
I was dancing on clouds when he dropped me home, leaving me with another breathtaking kiss to remember him by. Every time I saw him, I swore that it was the best day of my life, but every memory we created always surpassed the last. I was falling for him, and I couldn’t stop myself. I didn’t even want to try.
Grumpy’s Bar and Grill wasn’t exactly the glamorous, high-end restaurant I’m sure Jensen was used to, but I couldn’t imagine any other venue being more perfect. My skewed perspective of the place had been based on the fact that it was one of Dad’s hangouts, but he was sound asleep on the sofa at home so I was assured a drama-free evening.
The only tense moment we had was when we were discussing who would pay. I insisted on picking up the tab for the evening, despite his red-faced protest that he could buy the whole bar if he wanted to and that it was ridiculous of me to waste my first paycheck when he genuinely wouldn’t miss the money. I reminded him that, for the sake of my own pride, I needed this, and reluctantly, he let the subject drop after several mumbles about how a real gentleman wouldn’t let a lady pay. Of course, it was probably the same reason that he ordered the cheapest thing on the menu. After we’d eaten, we danced, played pool, laughed more than I’d ever laughed in my life, and finally walked home arm in arm, leaving Jensen’s truck at the bar.
“Shall we sit for a while?” I said, moving toward the rickety old porch swing in front of the motel.
“Will it hold us?” Jensen asked.
“I make no promises,” I replied. Taking his chances, he sat down gingerly.
“The mistletoe is gone,” I pointed out, looking up at where it had hung earlier.
“Don’t worry,” he said, smiling. “We don’t need it anymore.” We edged toward each other, and under a blanket of stars, with the bite of winter frost in the air, we kissed, and I gave Jensen Caldwell another little piece of my heart.
Chapter Fourteen
Jensen
I woke up, and I was smiling before I even opened my eyes. After our amazing date, we made out on the porch swing for half an hour before saying good night. Every day after that, I drove Lauren home when she finished her shift. Leaving her was the worst, but seeing her happy, smiling face when she saw me waiting for her was the best. Every night ended on that porch swing, and no matter how cold it might be or how tired we were, I’d never feel so much peace as I did swaying back and forth on that old hunk of rotting wood.
What I felt for Lauren was so much more than attraction. She was fast becoming my best friend. The person I wanted to talk to first about everything. The person I wanted to come home to every night. I was on cloud nine all the time, until the moment it hit me that today was the day of Ronnie’s funeral. I remembered why I was here, and my euphoric glow evaporated. If Lauren and I had met a few months ago, if she had seen how I had treated the people I loved as disposable, she wouldn’t have looked twice at me. I hadn’t been the kind of man she deserved in the past, but I could be. Perhaps I couldn’t forget my past or atone for my behavior, but I sure as hell could learn from it. I owed it to Lauren and Nancy. I owed it to Ronnie, and more importantly, I owed it to myself.
Nancy Adler’s house was packed to the rafters with well-wishers. It seemed that every person I spoke to had a different story to tell about Ronnie, and I was beginning to understand that mine wasn’t the only life he’d changed for the better. He’d been a truly inspirational person, and rather than sticking my head in the sand and forgetting about what had happened between us, I wanted to honor his memory. And so I spent the day chatting to his friends and family, to the people in the community who had admired him. I heard their stories of Ronnie and shared some of mine, and despite my worst fear that it would be a horribly morbid experience, it was oddly cathartic.
Through it all, Nancy had been stoic, a pillar of strength and compassion who seemed to put everyone else’s grief before her own. It wasn’t difficult to see why Ronnie had fallen head over heels in love with her. She’d shown me kindness and forgiveness at a time when she would have been completely justified in spouting rage and anger, and this was a testament to how wonderful she was.
The ceremony itself had been beautiful, a real celebration of life, and among th
e stream of photographs that were projected throughout his eulogy, I was touched to find myself in so many of them. When Ronnie and Nancy’s wedding picture appeared, Nancy sobbed, and my heart broke along with hers. But after a good cry, she wiped away her tears and carried on, and I knew I could live my whole life and never again meet someone with that kind of strength.
I was never far if she needed me, but it was long after the last guest had left and the dishes cleaned and put away that I finally had some alone time with Nancy. She was sitting on a bench in the garden when I took her a cup of tea.
“Megan showed me how you take it,” I assured her. “And there isn’t much in this world that can’t be improved with a good cup of tea.”
“Bless you, Jensen,” she said as I handed over the hot drink.
“So when do you leave?” I asked. I figured she’d stay for Christmas, but her daughters were moving suitcases around when I left to find Nancy.
“As soon as I’ve finished my tea I imagine,” she said, wistfully taking in the view.
“So soon?” I asked, surprised.
“I just can’t face spending Christmas here. Truth be told, I’m not sure I’ll ever be back. No matter where he was in the world, Ronnie always came home to spend the holidays with me. Everything here is just going to remind me of him and how much I missed him, so I’m going to try and make it to the ranch in time to watch my grandchildren put out their stockings for Santa. I’ll steal a little of their Christmas spirit and keep it for my own. So, how about you? What are your plans?”
“I’m staying for the dance at the community center tomorrow, and then my flight home leaves Christmas Eve morning,” I replied.
She said nothing but narrowed her eyes at me.
“What?” I asked, squirming under the weight of her stare.
“You’re richer than Croesus, so we both know you could charter a flight to make it home tomorrow. Hell, your team would probably send a private jet if you asked them to. Taking a commercial flight on Christmas Eve means you’ll probably miss Christmas Day with your mom. You’re delaying leaving so that you can go to the dance with Lauren, aren’t you?” she asked.