CHAPTER EIGHT - JEREMY

 

After putting the dogs in the house and locking the doggie door to ensure their safety, he stowed the suitcases in the bed of his pickup once again and everyone climbed into the cab. As they drove to the airport, the intermittent snow flurries became heavier and more constant, the precursor of the storm that was on its way.

 

As they rode along, Jeremy couldn’t help but think back to Annalise’s apology. It was sweet, though unnecessary. He’d fully understood why she’d been so upset with him at the time. If he’d had grandparents as wonderful as the Sorensens he wouldn’t have wanted anyone horning in on them, either. Besides, she got over her jealousy rather quickly when she, Pappy, and Jeremy had gone out to the frozen pond to skate. While Pappy could skate with remarkable speed and Annalise could perform graceful turns and leaps, it was all Jeremy could do to stay on his feet. She’d taken pity on him and given him some pointers.

 

Besides, if either of them owed the other an apology, it was him. At twelve, she’d been just a cute, chubby kid with crazy blond hair. But by the time she turned sixteen, the chub had rearranged itself into curvaceous hips, muscular thighs, and shapely glutes, giving her a strong female figure like Serena Williams. Her blond hair had turned from crazy and unruly to wild and sexy. And when she turned those gorgeous blue eyes on him, it was all he could do not to grab her and pull her to him and kiss her. He’d fantasized about much more than kissing, too. In his dreams, she’d been willing and wanton, and the two of them had found some creative and sensual uses for Pappy’s pure maple syrup . . .

 

Mrs. Quimby’s voice yanked him from his reverie as he pulled into the airport. “Drop us at the curb, Jeremy. No sense you and Annalise getting out in this weather.”

 

Jeremy did as he was told, pulling over to the curb to let Mr. and Mrs. Quimby out of the truck. While Annalise gave her parents goodbye hugs, Jeremy retrieved their suitcases from the back of the truck and placed them on the curb.

 

Mr. Quimby reached out a hand to give him a shake, augmenting the gesture with a pat on the shoulder. “Thanks for all you’ve done, Jeremy.”

 

Mrs. Quimby was more demonstrative, pulling him into another bear hug. “I’m glad Pappy had you to keep him company. He thought the world of you.”

 

Jeremy felt his throat constricting with emotion, but managed to squeak out, “The feeling was mutual.”

 

Mrs. Quimby turned to Annalise. “Be sure to stock up on groceries on your way home. And make sure you’ve brought plenty of firewood into the house in case the electricity or gas go out.”

 

“We will,” Annalise promised.

 

With that, the Quimbys rolled their suitcases into the airport. Annalise climbed into the front seat of the truck’s cab, taking the passenger seat her father had vacated. Jeremy climbed back into the driver’s seat and pulled away from the curb.

 

With Annalise sitting closer now, his nose detected the faint hints of her fruity shampoo and lotion. God, she smelled good. Like strawberries and melons. He had a sudden craving for a heaping helping of fruit salad.

 

He glanced her way. She stared at the thick snow falling ahead, her face tight. “You okay?” he asked.

 

“I’m worried about the weather.”

 

“We’ll be fine,” he replied. “We get storms like this every year. Besides, it’s just snow. That’s nothing compared to the earthquakes you get in LA.” He reached over, took her hand, and gave it a soft squeeze like he’d done at the pub earlier. It was a bold move, yet at the same time one he’d given no thought before doing it. He’d acted on instinct. It had seemed the natural and right thing to do.

 

When he released her hand, she cut a soft smile his way. “Thanks. I’m feeling better now.”

 

His pulse rocketed. Was she telling him that his touch meant something to her? It sure seemed that way. But did it only mean she found it comforting? Or was there more to it? And would she want more of it?

 

She turned her head, looking out the side window now.

 

Damn. Women were so hard to read.