Jake glances over at me, and our eyes meet briefly before I look back at the road.
“Probably is,” he says, his voice quieter. “Not many people are like you, Sutton. Not everyone’s brave enough to expose themselves and take chances.”
A burst of joy explodes in my chest. He doesn’t think I’m crazy. He thinks I’m brave.
“I’ve never met someone like you before,” he continues. “And that’s not even including the goats.”
A laugh escapes me, and one of the goats in the back “bahs” in agreement.
Soon, we reach our destination: the River Place Shops. We’re meeting up with the Reindeer Falls Community Choir. They do their caroling once a week, and they promised me they’re overjoyed to have guest singers tonight, human and goat. It’s mostly gray-haired men and women wrapped up in red, green, and silver coats with jingle bells attached at the ends of their hats.
A few of them are regular customers of mine at the farmers’ market, and they coo at Jake as he unloads the goats from the truck.
“Is that one of the Sheppard boys?” Greta, one of the older ladies, stage-whispers to me, causing the rest of them to fall over themselves trying to get a subtle peek at him. “I heard they were back in town.” I watch Jake wave at them, winking at me.
“That’s Jake Sheppard,” I tell them, loud enough for him to hear as he sets Martha gently down on the ground and attaches her leash. “He used to live in Reindeer Falls, but ya know, the lure of the big city and all that.”
I wave them closer like I’m about to share a dirty secret, and they crowd around me, jingling as they move.
“He’s a lawyer,” I say dramatically, and they all whoop with laughter.
“A lawyer, eh?” says a deep voice from behind them. “Never thought I’d see Sutton Stewart with a prissy lawyer.”
My stomach lurches at the sound of the voice, and I turn to see him. Broad-shouldered, with the kind of muscles that chopping down wood gets you, and the lumberjack beard to boot. He parts the crowd easily, a wry smile peeking out from behind his dark beard.
Hudson.
My ex-boyfriend.
Chapter Eleven
Look, I have a weakness for beards. I admit it. I know all I should care about is what’s inside a person’s heart, but a beard just does it for me. Or scruff. Anything except a lone mustache and my head is turning to check the guy out. It’s my fatal flaw, and I’ve come to peace with it. Besides, everyone has a flaw. It’s likely why Jake has gotten progressively hotter to me as the week’s gone on. He hasn’t shaved since he got back to Reindeer Falls and I have zero complaints about that.
Frankly, I blame it on the summer I spent following indie bands around the country. I told my parents I was taking a gap summer, since the majority of Americans don’t take a gap year between high school and university. I thought it was a brilliant idea, really. My parents didn’t exactly agree, so I made ends meet by providing the roadies with covert, under-the-table non-vegan food.
And when I met Hudson in the diviest bar in Detroit all those years ago, he was rocking the wildest beard I had ever seen in my life.
He hadn’t shaved in over a year, thanks to the cross-country hike he’d just completed in Nepal. He seemed like he’d been pulled right out of the wilderness, every inch of him covered in coarse hair, flannel, or denim. He was loud and obnoxious and talked a lot about how we needed to be more “at peace with nature” and “of the land,” and I fell fast.
I met him before the Airstream, but I was already itching for adventure. I wanted to live the life that Hudson talked about, one that involved hiking and bathing in rivers and making your own beer.
And I really, really wanted to feel his beard between my legs.
To my delight, Hudson was into me, too. We spent our days doing roadie work for the band and the nights exploring every inch of each other.
But Hudson was the kind of guy who believed that relationships were beneath him and that, to fully live, he couldn’t be tethered. He needed to be able to take off at a moment’s notice, and if he met a cute girl who wanted to sleep with him, well, he saw nothing wrong with that. Exclusivity was stifling to his aura, he said.
I wanted to believe I could be part of Hudson’s freewheeling lifestyle. I wanted to think I was bold and progressive and that I wouldn’t care if he slept with other women. I told myself it was progressive. I told myself it was natural. I told myself a lot of things.
But in the end, I didn’t want to be that progressive or natural or, well, wild. I wanted to live like a grown woman with family and friends and a business that I cared about. And I wanted one person who loved me and me alone, and so Hudson and I said our goodbyes.