Which brought his thoughts around full circle to Jess.
He liked her. A lot. And there was no denying he was attracted to her. That kiss the other day had awakened something in him that had been dormant for too long. It was a good thing that she was just here for the summer. Someone passing through his life, not sticking around. There was a little bit of safety in that, after all. The confusing thing was how to proceed. Should they be friends? Could they be friends without being physical? Could they be physical without falling in love? Because the last thing he wanted to do was set up unreasonable expectations.
Bran figured he was probably overthinking, so he pushed the thoughts aside and went out to the lighthouse instead. He walked around the perimeter, examined the ground around the base, looked up at the platform high above. Brow furrowed, he took the key and went inside, then lugged the single mattress up the stairs, trying to ignore the dust and probably mold that had settled into it. Once outside, he gingerly felt his way to the railing, making sure not to get too close. And then he tipped the damp and heavy mattress over the edge, seeing where it fell.
A person would be heavier, but the placement at the bottom was what he was after.
He went inside, shut the trapdoor and timed how long it took him to get back outside and to where the “body” lay. Satisfied, he dragged the mattress back inside and left it on the floor in a puff of dust.
It really was a shame that it was in such disrepair. Had the previous owners not cared? The house was three thousand square feet of elegance and had been lovingly cared for. The lighthouse, full of history, was a derelict.
Maybe he could be the one to restore it.
Energized, he trotted back to the house. First, he wanted more words. There were some adjustments that needed to be made in the scenes he’d just written. And after that, he’d start researching restoration.
He didn’t need to think about Jessica Blundon at all. He just needed something to keep him occupied, and this was perfect.
* * *
Jess spent one more week sketching at the lighthouse, but Bran never came out anymore. She didn’t even see him on his balcony, or in his gardens. It was as if he was deliberately avoiding her ever since they’d shared that kiss. Or kisses, rather. There’d been two. One impulsive. The other not. He wasn’t pleased about either.
Now she had started painting, and while she missed sitting out in the sunshine, she was enjoying her time in her makeshift studio with the familiar smells and tools around her. Her loft in Chicago was bigger, but this suited her just fine. She had only to take a few steps to make a cup of tea or something to eat. The ocean was outside her door. And while she didn’t want to overstay her welcome, Jeremy and Tori had become friends and she saw them often. Baby Rose was growing each day, and Tori was starting to look slightly more rested as she got more sleep. Jeremy doted on her in a way that was so sweet it made Jess’s heart hurt.
She’d never had a love like that. She’d loved, sure. But each time that particular blossom had bloomed, it had ended up wilting, too, until there was nothing left but to move on. She tried not to overthink it. Ana had always said that there was no one good enough. That no one understood what it meant to be a creative. Or they were jealous of her talent. Compliments all, but lonely just the same. And each time a relationship ended, a little bit of hope for a family of her own died, too.
But she could live a fulfilled life just the same. It was all about being happy with what you had, rather than spending too much time wishing. Wishing just led to disappointment.
Right now she was working on her first painting, starting small, working from the sketch she’d made of the door and the daisies beside it. She wanted to do a whole series here, not just of the lighthouse but of the whole experience of being on the South Shore.
But she missed Bran. She’d be lying to herself to deny it.
A week passed. The end of June approached and she worked long hours, taking time only for walks and meals. She spoke to her agent and negotiated with Tori to stay at the boathouse until the end of August. Then she, her sketches and paintings would head back to Chicago. She could finish there in her own studio.
Finally, on a Friday night, Tori asked her up to the house for dinner. Jess pressed her phone to her ear and asked the tough question. “Is Branson going to be there?”
“No,” Tori replied. “He’s gone to Halifax for something. It’s just us. And I’m not even cooking. Jeremy is stopping for fish and chips on the way home.”
Her stomach growled. That sounded so good... “Okay, then. Let me clean up and I’ll be there. What should I bring?”
Tori laughed. “Yourself?”
“How about wine? Or can you have any?”
“I can sneak a glass. I’ve got enough milk expressed to feed Rose. That would be lovely.”
So Jessica washed up, changed into a simple floral maxi dress, twisted her hair into a messy topknot and grabbed not only a bottle of pinot grigio but a basket of early-season strawberries. They’d make a simple dessert after their takeout meal.
When she arrived at the house, Tori was outside in the backyard, putting plates on the patio table while Rose kicked and played in a playpen covered with a fine mosquito net. “Are the bugs bad?” Jess asked, handing over the wine.
“No. I’m just overly cautious, I think, and hate the thought of an itchy bite on Rose’s delicate skin. To be honest, I just love eating dinner outside. Unless it’s raining, we eat out here nearly every night.”
“You guys are the cutest.”
Tori beamed. “Do you think? Wait’ll I tell Jeremy. ‘Cutest’ isn’t something he’s used to being called.”
They went into the kitchen briefly and Tori put the wine in the fridge to chill, then put the berries on a shelf. “You know, six months ago I was living in a tiny little house and working at the Sandpiper. It’s hard to believe this is my life now. I’m so lucky. I’m so happy.”
They went back outside, sitting in the shade next to Rose’s playpen. “How did you and Jeremy meet, then? He’s from New York, right?”