“Meaning?”
“The seven-year itch happened, and he had a scratch that couldn’t be soothed.”
“What a dick.” She’s gorgeous and kind, and her son is amazing. Who doesn’t want them? I want them.
Wait…what?
“Nah,” she whispers. “He just wasn’t a macaroni and cheese kind of guy.”
Suddenly, the loud thud of a door garners our attention.
“All set,” Jonas announces. Stepping into view, he’s holding up a camera looped around his neck on a strap. He also has a pair of binoculars hanging cross-bodied over his chest and…
“Is that a monocle dangling from his pocket?”
Tessa leans toward me and whispers behind her hand. “It’s really a magnifying glass, but yes.”
“Can Noah go with us?” Jonas asks, and Tessa straightens, her eyes catching mine.
“I’m sure Noah isn’t—”
“Is a treasure hunter just like he’s a macaroni and cheese kind of man,” I state, holding her gaze.
I honestly never wanted to eat M and C again in my life, having lived off it for years in college, but I’d suddenly eat it every day if it meant just a little more time with this woman and her son.
9
[Tessa]
I did not know what to think.
When Noah told me that he was looking for another job, it made sense. He’s been unhappy since the moment he took the measly manager position, as he’d put it. Hell, I’m still not certain why he took the job even though he explained his unexpected removal from the Magellen. He loved Chicago. Why hadn’t he stayed there to look for another manager job?
Then I remember what he said about needing to get out of his head.
I can relate. When I first graduated college, I had no direction. My degree in biology didn’t lead me anywhere. I could never be confined to a lab, and I didn’t want to be a teacher. Instead, I worked in retail for a few years and walked people’s dogs. I house sat and worked as a hostess in a restaurant. I was basically lost. I wanted to return to the inn, but my dad was adamant I spend time away from the place. Live my life to the fullest. Except the only the fullness I felt was at Bluebird Hollow.
Then he passed away.
And I came home to stay.
My roots were firmly planted here, but I understood the inn wasn’t for everyone. My mother proved that when she left me as a child. Isaiah proved it when he didn’t want to be a father anymore. And even Uncle Joe was ready to leave the inn behind. I was so tired of this place not being good enough for others.
I wasn’t good enough for someone else.
It’s one reason I want Noah to keep his kisses. I don’t need to get attached to one more person who won’t stick around.
But Noah was definitely burrowing his way into my thoughts, making my pulse race with the way he attended to Jonas.
“Look, Mom. Fairy dust.” Jonas waves a hand through a smattering of dust dancing through filtered sunlight among the trees as we walk in the woods near the inn.
“Fairy dust?” Noah questions, his voice low as he stands near me.
Fairy dust. “It’s what my mother called the dust that floats around in the sunlight. She’d tell me to make a wish.”
“Like wishing on a star?”
“Something like that.” I smile and turn to Jonas. “Make a wish, buddy.”
Jonas squeezes his eyes tight and hunches up his little shoulders like he’s holding his breath, sucking in his wish and willing it to happen. I’d wished on fairy dust myself when I ran off to the artist’s cottage the other day. Despite the location being a reminder of my mother, I went there to feel closer to my father. Which was silly because he rarely visited the cottage after my mother left. The heaviness of his broken heart filled the empty space, and I felt closest to him when I stood inside the now-vacant room. I needed his grace, his comfort. I didn’t know what I would do if the loan for the inn didn’t come through.
“Want to know what my wish was?” Jonas’s voice rises with eager excitement. He wants to spill..
“You can’t tell anyone.” I brush back his floppy hair. “Then it won’t come true.”
“You said I shouldn’t keep a secret, though,” Jonas reminds me, and Noah coughs beside me, stifling a chuckle.
“Yes, but remember we talked about how secrets and wishes are two different things. Sometimes, a secret can hurt someone. A wish should be happy. We never wish for people to be hurt.”
Jonas nods once, his little lips pursing as he contemplates a lesson he’s been told many times.
A moment of weighted silence passes, before Jonas says, “I still want to share my wish.”
“Okay, but it might not come true once you speak it.”
“But it might?” Jonas asks.
“It’s your wish, Jonas. Risk it, if you will.” I wink at him. He knows the wish rules, but I’m often curious what he dreams for in his head.
After another thought-filled minute, Jonas decides to keep his wish to himself. I do the same because I know what I’d wish for.
I’d wish Noah’s kisses meant something.
I’d wish he’d be more than temporary.
+ +
“You cold?” Noah asks me.
We’d been outside for hours, and while the day warmed up and the sun shined brightly, the afternoon was by no means hot. Between the morning walk in the brisk air and a long day of outdoor activity, I’m chilly. My face feels warm, but I’m shivering while sweating.
I sniffle. “Maybe just a little.”
We’d been treasure hunting for longer than normal and actually found some amazing pieces of nature. I love how you find something where you least expect to.
“Your face is red. Did you get sunburned?” Noah teases.
I can’t see how that is possible, and I swallow around a tickle in my throat. “It’s nothing, but I think it’s time for Jonas and me to head home.”
Jonas groans, but we trek back through the trees near our property. The walk feels longer than it should. My legs ache in a way they shouldn’t, and I’m suddenly exhausted.
“You okay?” Noah asks as we meander over the damp forest floor.
“Yeah. Maybe just an allergic reaction or something.” I sniffle again. Springtime pollen, I guess.
Noah reaches out a hand to my forehead, and I flinch when he touches me. “What are you doing?”
“You’re burning up.”
“I’m just sweaty,” I reply, embarrassed.
“I think you have a fever.”
“I can’t.” I mean, I could, but I don’t have time to be sick. I need to nail down that loan or stall Uncle Joe on the sale of my precious inn.
“I’m fine,” I mutter, huddling into my jacket, which hardly feels like it’s holding warmth. My teeth chatter.