Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 128488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
He rounded a flowering bush, lush with pink blossoms, stopping as his heart rose in his throat and then dropped quickly. Noelle.
She was standing next to a cart with a long pull handle, jotting something on a small pad of paper. Evan stared. She was her but . . . a different person entirely. Her hair was swept up in a high ponytail; tendrils glinting with caramel had fallen out, framing her face and trailing over her neck. She was wearing a similar outfit to the woman who’d greeted him at the front desk, a white gauzy blouse and navy-blue shorts with white tennis shoes. Her skin was golden, cheeks flushed with the heat of the day, and a small smile curved her lips before she finished writing and stuck the pad and pencil in her pocket.
He couldn’t speak. He was incapable of even moving.
She began to reach for the handle of the cart but stopped, her brow dipping right before she turned toward him, as though she’d sensed his presence.
She froze, eyes widening as they stared at each other across the span of space.
“Evan?” she breathed.
He stepped from the shade of the foliage, the sunlight falling over him as he moved toward her. “Hi,” he said when he’d almost reached her.
Hi. What a stupid word. It didn’t encompass even one of the hundred emotions he was feeling in that moment. She gave her head a slight shake, as though she didn’t believe her own eyes, and when he’d made it to where she stood, she blinked before asking, “How . . . what are you doing here?”
“It’s nice to see you.” Better, but still woefully inadequate.
She let out a breath. “It’s nice to see you too. It’s just . . . unexpected. Wow. I . . .” She glanced back over her shoulder. “I . . . wow.”
Hi. Wow. He almost laughed. Almost.
“I know you’re working,” he said. “And I’m sorry just to show up like this, but I’m here for a reason.” He shifted awkwardly. God, this was weird. And after all these years. Without a phone call.
Her eyes widened again. “Is everything—”
“Yes. Everything is okay. For me, I mean. I just . . . well . . .” He rubbed the back of his neck. It was damp with sweat. He was still in the jeans and T-shirt he’d put on to travel and wasn’t dressed for this muggy southern weather. He hadn’t thought much of this through, he realized. Not the details anyway. He’d acted on his feelings, and so here he was, sweating in his inappropriate clothes and stammering through his explanation for being here. Showing up out of the blue, not just here in South Carolina but here to interrupt her life unexpectedly. “I actually need your help with something.”
Dammit. That was not how he wanted to broach the subject, and he hadn’t meant to say that so soon. He just didn’t know what trivial niceties to use to make this less artless. He should have figured out what to say to her, but he hadn’t. He’d been nervous, so here he was winging it, and it was all wrong. I need your help with something. God, that sounded stupid. Maybe it was stupid. Not just the words but even asking at all. He was suddenly second-guessing this whole thing. It was lovely here, serene, drenched in sunshine. And she was tanned and happy and peaceful looking and so beautiful it ripped his fucking heart out.
She was still staring at him, and he squinted up to the blue, blue sky and then looked back at her standing in front of a tropical-looking plant studded with tiny white flowers. “Man, the places we’ve been together.” He wanted to cringe. Why had he said that? But she huffed out a small agreeable breath, his words seeming to bring her back from the momentary shock-stupor she’d been in. “You look great,” he said.
“Thank you. So do you.” She picked up the handle of the cart. “Walk with me?” She glanced back over her shoulder again. “I have a few more deliveries to make, and then we can talk.”
“Okay. Great.” He followed along as she turned down a path, pulling the wagon behind her.
“What do you do here?” he asked. He’d looked at the website, but staff hadn’t been listed there, and so he had no idea what job she performed.
She glanced back at him, a smile gracing her lips but quickly fading. “Technically, I’m the owner’s assistant,” she said. “But I do a little bit of everything. Two of our employees went back to school last week, and so we’re a bit short staffed.” She reached into the wagon and took out a stack of white fluffy towels before turning toward a cottage they’d come to stand in front of. Noelle knocked on the door, and a woman answered, smiling as Noelle handed her the towels.