True believer - Nicholas Sparks [75]
Lexie let him sit in silence for a minute and could almost see the wheels turning. Finally, she leaned forward and poked him in the arm to get his attention again.
“Well?” she asked. “What do we do next?”
Jeremy shook his head, coming back to her.
“Is there a highway around here? Or another major road?”
“Just the one you came in on that runs through town.”
“Huh,” he said, frowning.
“What? No ‘ah’ this time?”
“Not yet,” he said. “I’m getting there, though.” Despite the inky darkness, he thought he could see her smirking. “Why do I get the impression that you already know what’s causing them?”
“I don’t know,” she said, playing coy. “Why do you?”
“It’s just a feeling I get. I’m good at reading people. A guy named Clausen taught me his secrets.”
She laughed. “Well, then, you already know what I think.”
She gave him a moment to figure it out before she leaned forward. Her eyes looked darkly seductive, and though his mind should have been elsewhere, he again flashed on an image of her at the party and how beautiful she had been.
“Don’t you remember my story?” she whispered. “It was my parents. They probably wanted to meet you.”
Perhaps it was the orphaned tone she used when she said it—simultaneously sad and resilient—but as a tiny lump formed in his throat, it was all he could do not to take her in his arms right then and there, in the hope of holding her close forever.
Half an hour later, after loading up the equipment, they arrived back at her house.
Neither of them had said much on the way home, and when they reached her door, Jeremy realized that he’d spent far more time thinking about Lexie as he drove than he had about the lights. He didn’t want the evening to end, not yet.
Hesitating before the door, Lexie brought a hand to her mouth, stifling a yawn before breaking into an embarrassed laugh.
“Sorry about that,” she said. “I’m not normally up this late.”
“It’s okay,” he said, meeting her gaze. “I had a great time tonight.”
“So did I,” she said, meaning it.
He took a small step forward, and when she realized he was thinking of trying to kiss her, she pretended to fiddle with something on her jacket.
“I suppose I should call it a night, then,” she said, hoping he took the hint.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “We could watch the tapes inside, if you’d like. Maybe you could help me figure out what the lights really are.”
She looked away, her expression wistful.
“Please don’t ruin this for me, okay?” she whispered.
“Ruin what?”
“This . . . everything . . .” She closed her eyes, trying to collect her thoughts. “Both you and I know why you want to come inside, but even if I wanted you to, I wouldn’t let you. So please don’t ask.”
“Did I do something wrong?”
“No. You didn’t do anything wrong. I had a great day, a wonderful day. Actually, it’s the best day I’ve had in a long time.”
“Then what is it?”
“You’ve been giving me the full-court press since you got here, and we know what’ll happen if I let you through that door. But you’re leaving. And when you do, I’ll be the one who’s hurt afterward. So why start something you have no intention of finishing?”
With someone else, with anyone else, he would have said something flippant or changed the subject until he figured out another way to get through her door. But as he looked at her on the porch, he couldn’t form the words. Nor, strangely, did he want to.
“You’re right,” he admitted. He forced a smile. “Let’s call it a night. I should probably go find out where those lights are coming from, anyway.”
For a moment, she wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly, but when he took a small step backward, she caught his eye.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Good night, Lexie.”
She nodded, and after an awkward pause, she turned toward the door. Jeremy took that as his signal to leave, and he stepped off the porch as Lexie took her keys from her jacket pocket. She was sliding the key into the door when she heard his voice behind her.
“Hey, Lexie?” he called out.
In the fog, he was nothing but a blur.