never have come here.
“Uh, so there’s probably everything you need in there,” he said in an unsteady, rumbly way that indicated he was probably just as unsettled as she was.
This was so not a good idea.
Vivien decided she would just take a quick shower and then make some excuse to leave.
“Uh, I mean, if you don’t mind guy sort of shampoo—”
“It’s okay, I’ve got all my stuff in my bag,” she said, making her voice brisk.
“Oh, good, all right.” He started for the door, then paused. “Um…I think I have some bourbon. Would you rather that or the Pinot gris?”
“Oh…I don’t really think… I mean, I’ve got to get back to my place… Well, I guess a glass of the Pinot would be nice,” she said weakly when he lifted his eyebrow. She’d have the one glass and then make her escape.
Although how she was going to do that without a car, she wasn’t exactly sure. Not that she thought he’d balk at taking her home if she asked, but…
Ugh. It was so incredibly awkward.
She should never have come here.
“All right, then. A glass of Pinot gris on the patio,” he said with a quick smile that reminded her of the Jake she’d known. And loved.
“Thanks,” she said, and turned away to busy herself digging through the duffel in hopes that he’d go away.
He did, and she was finally left alone with a bundle of emotions.
The steam shower was heavenly—as well as great cover for unpacking said emotions. She had a good cry to let out the frustration and anxiety, but she didn’t wallow too long. The last thing she needed was Jake the Doctor coming in to make sure she was all right.
Then she went on to singing (but not too loudly) while she scrubbed her head with scented shampoo and, yeah, she used exfoliating body wash. But not because of Jake.
When she exited into the bedroom, this time she had the leisure to notice more than the massive, inviting bed. On the table next to it was an e-reader device on top of a stack of books, each sporting a bookmark. One was the latest TJ Mack thriller, one was a biography of Alexandre Lacassagne (whoever that was), and one was a cookbook, of all strange things. Vivien simply couldn’t imagine reading about cooking for pleasure—she didn’t even like to think about it when she had to eat.
Two large windows, one on each exterior wall, faced the woods that surrounded the house. Apparently all of the lake-view windows had been positioned in the living space area, a tactic Vivien wholly approved. But the forest view was just as interesting—or would be when and if Jake cut back on the wild trees and—were those grapevines?—growing enthusiastically around the house.
The bedroom also boasted a small gas fireplace and sleek, low furnishings that somehow still maintained a warm, inviting mood. Far, far too inviting.
At least there wasn’t a freaking fur rug in front of the fireplace.
She slung up her duffel, determined to have a single glass of wine, to keep the conversation very superficial, and to leave as soon as her glass was empty.
Then she had an idea, and dug out her phone. Hey, she texted Helga. Did you hear about my car? I need a girls’ night ASAP.
Helga—who surely would have heard about Vivien’s car from her colleagues in Wicks Hollow’s three-person police department—would give her not only a good excuse to leave but also a ride home.
Problem solved.
Chapter Ten
The last thing Jake wanted was for Vivien to slam her wine and bolt.
He realized this as he was pulling the cork from the bottle and scoffed a little at himself. Dumbass. Foolish, weak dumbass.
No, he wasn’t over her, and to be honest, it hugely pissed him off that he wasn’t.
More than a decade later, he wasn’t freaking over her. Close to half his lifetime ago, and he still carried a torch for the singing-all-the-time, smart-assed, honey-blond woman who’d captured his heart, body, and mind during med school.
But it was clear as day that she was not into renewing their old spark. Even though there was definitely still a spark—he felt it.
Hell, it was more than a spark. More like a blowtorch whenever she laughed or even smiled a real smile.
And there’d been that moment by the shower when their gazes caught and held and he felt his whole body go hot and expectant… He was pretty sure she’d stopped breathing, too.
After all, their breakup hadn’t been from growing apart or