True believer - Nicholas Sparks [90]
As one of her friends pointed out, it was typical of women to worry about such things. Men seemed immune to these sorts of insecurities. Even if they weren’t, they’d learned to either disguise their feelings or bury them deep enough so as not to be crippled by them. Usually, she tried to do the same, and usually, it worked. Usually.
In the distance, with the sun sinking into the waters of the Pamlico Sound, the town of Buxton, with its white clapboard houses, looked like a postcard. She was staring toward the lighthouse, and just as she’d hoped, she saw a small herd of horses grazing in the sea oats around the base. There were maybe a dozen in total—tans and browns, mainly—and their coats were rough and wild, grown thick for the winter. Two foals stood together near the center, their tails swishing in unison.
Lexie stopped to watch them, tucking her hands in her jacket pockets. It was getting cold now that the evening was coming, and she could feel the sting on her cheeks and nose. The air was bracing, and though she would have liked to stay longer, she was tired. It had been a long day, and felt even longer.
Despite herself, she wondered what Jeremy was doing. Was he preparing to film again? Or deciding where to eat? Was he packing? And why did her thoughts constantly turn to him?
She sighed, already knowing the answer. As much as she’d wanted to see the horses, the sight of them reminded her less of new beginnings than the simple fact that she was lonely. As much as she thought of herself as independent, as much as she tried to downplay Doris’s constant remarks, she couldn’t help but feel a yearning for companionship, for intimacy. It didn’t even have to be marriage; sometimes all she wanted was to look forward to Friday or Saturday night. She yearned to spend a leisurely morning lounging in bed with someone she cared about, and as impossible as the idea seemed, Jeremy was the one she kept picturing beside her.
Lexie shook her head, forcing the thought away. In coming here, she had hoped to find relief from her thoughts, but as she stood near the lighthouse and watched the horses grazing, she felt the world bearing down hard. She was thirty-one, alone and living in a place without any prospects. Her grandfather and parents were nothing but memories, the state of Doris’s health was a source of constant worry to her, and the one man she’d found even remotely interesting in recent years would be gone forever by the time she returned home.
That was when she started to cry, and for a long time, she found it difficult to stop. But just as she was finally beginning to collect herself, she saw someone approaching, and all she could do was stare when she realized who it was.
Fourteen
Lexie blinked, trying to make sure that what she was seeing was real. It couldn’t be him, because he couldn’t be here. The whole idea was so foreign, so unexpected, that she felt as if she were watching the scene through someone else’s eyes.
Jeremy smiled as he set his satchel down. “You know, you really shouldn’t stare like that,” he said. “Men like women who know how to be subtle.”
Lexie continued to watch him. “You,” she replied.
“Me,” he agreed with a nod.
“You’re . . . here.”
“I am here,” he agreed again.
She squinted at him in the waning light, and it occurred to Jeremy that she was even prettier than he remembered.
“What are you . . . ?” She hesitated, trying to make sense of his appearance. “I mean, how did you . . . ?”
“It’s kind of a long story,” he admitted. When she made no move toward him, he nodded at the lighthouse. “And this is the lighthouse