Kiss and Don't Tell(50)

“And what exactly is that new chapter?” he asks. “We touched upon something at the souvenir shop but I wasn’t able to ask any questions. I feel as though I didn’t handle it well, and I’m feeling pretty guilty over it. You opened up and you were shoved to the side for some fans.”

“Oh my gosh, Pacey, no need to feel guilty. I felt as though there wasn’t much to talk about.”

“Yes, there is. Your mom passed away. That’s life-changing, especially for your age. You lost her and the family business. You put your life on hold. Were you her caregiver, too?”

I nod, thinking back to those dreary days, her last breaths. “Yeah. Toward the end, I was there with her every second of the day, holding her hand, making sure she knew she wasn’t alone.” I feel my smile become watery. “A part of me thinks she was the one who made me take the wrong turn, that led to me ending up at the cabin. Like she’s had a hand in this weird coincidence.” My eyes meet his. “She’d think this is so funny, me lodging with five hunky hockey players. She was always a sucker for a romance. This would’ve been right up her alley.”

“What was she like?” he asks.

Wistfully, I sigh. “She was loving. Adventurous. A storyteller. She loved with her entire heart and always made you feel as though you were more than the person you thought you were. She could identify attributes about a person that they never saw as positives and twist them so they’d appreciate those attributes. Kind of like you.”

I tilt my head.

“I complain about my thighs, you say they’re sexy. I put myself down in the gym, you lift me up. She was the same way.”

“I guess that puts me in good company, then.”

“Very good company.” Mom would’ve adored Pacey. She was so kind and thoughtful, and I think she’d see those traits in this endearing man before me. How on earth did you make this happen, Mom?

I lift up the blueberry lavender cider, sniff it, and then take a sip. Oh my God. My eyes widen and I bring the glass to my chest, claiming it. “This one is mine.”

“Have all you want,” he says, leaning back in his chair, humor written all over his face. He’s a very easygoing man. He doesn’t act as if much bothers him. He seems like someone who loves life and goes with the flow.

“Is this your favorite? Is this why you tried it first?”

“It is,” he answers. “It’s subtle but also packs a punch. Kind of like you.”

“You think I’m subtle?”

He picks up the Pina Colada flavor and says, “Yes. You’re polite, kind, don’t want to step on toes, but when you feel comfortable with someone, boy, do you pack a punch. You can easily knock a guy off his feet.”

I don’t know what to do when he says things like that other than blush. My initial reaction is to tell him he’s wrong, that I really don’t knock a guy off his feet, just ask my ex. But I know he’d get angry if I put myself down . . . again—something I’m only just noticing I do quite often because Pacey has pointed it out. The last few years haven’t given me time for much self-reflection, but I can see now that Josh had never been one to validate me. Which makes me wonder how I stayed with him as long as I did.

The man you love should always be your champion, Win. Always encouraging. Never settle for less.

And yet, for so many years, it seems as though I did settle. But I refuse to focus on that now, because I’m enjoying this far too much. The sun is warming my skin, and Pacey is warming my heart.

Joking around, I ask, “Are you saying I’ve knocked you off your feet, Pacey?”

He smooths his hand over his jaw as he studies me. “Yeah, you have.”

The feeling is completely mutual.





“Are you going to have that last taco?” I ask, showing no shame.

“I’ll let you have the last taco if you let me have the last potato skin.”

“Ooh, you know how much I enjoyed the crispy cheese on those, but tacos are the first love of my life. Deal.”

We pick up the last shareables and both take a bite at the same time. It’s cute how effortless this entire meal has been. Conversation has flowed easily, we’ve shared like civil adults, despite me wanting to swat his hand away when he reached for the tacos, and I’ve had a really good time. I think it’s safe to say I like Pacey.

I like him a lot.

Probably more than I should, given the circumstances, but God, what’s not to like? Yes, he makes my inner girl want to scream with how hot he is, but beyond the surface-level stuff and all those rippling muscles in his forearms, there’s a man who’s thoughtful, sweet, funny, and protective. He’s a gentleman, a helper, and someone I could easily imagine relying on.

And I shouldn’t rely on him, because who knows how long I’ll be here? I already feel as if I’m overstaying my welcome, and at some point, I have to face reality and make it back to Seattle. I can’t forget about Minnie, either. Once she’s pulled from the bowels of the forest, she’ll no longer be able to provide me with an excuse to stay at the cabin, and I’ll no longer be dependent on the guys. That ought to make me happy, but I’ve enjoyed these stolen moments with Pacey.

Pacey picks up the water he’s been drinking and takes a sip. He hasn’t had much to drink at all, just sips here and there, allowing me to take down most of the flight. And yes, I’m feeling quite fine, hence slamming down this taco right now.