Timid (Lark Cove, #2)

by Devney Perry

One day, I am going to marry Jackson Page. I just had to get him to notice me first.

After years of watching and waiting and hoping, Jackson had finally noticed me. Me, the shy girl who’d loved him from a distance. Tonight, he’d made one of my dreams come true.

“Make him work for it.” My eyebrows came together. “Work for it?” “For you. Make him work to win you over.”

I’m not sure what has finally caused that boy’s eyes to open, but I’m glad for it. The best thing that could happen to him is you.”

Jackson had a lot of work to do if he was going to prove his sincerity. My guess was that he’d be bored with his pursuit within the week and move on to someone easier. And after that happened, I’d truly be free to move on. Maybe the quickest way to let him go was to watch him walk away. Make him work for it? I could do that.

The right retort would come eventually. I’d be sitting at home, stewing, and think of exactly what to say and how to say it. My comebacks were witty and hilarious. They were crafted with the perfect amount of sarcasm and bite. They just came too late.

“Why are you doing this?” “Because I can’t get you out of my head.”

Haven’t you ever seen someone before and just felt this need to know them?” Yes, I had. Nine years ago in a gas station.

Willa I’m sorry for calling you Willow. It won’t happen again. Jackson

I’d been a blind asshole. All this time she’d been right there. If not for Thea’s drawing, I may have never opened my eyes. They were open now. I found myself searching for her constantly. If I was working, I kept one eye on the door, waiting and hoping she’d come into the bar. And if she didn’t, I’d hurry to close down the bar and hustle the few blocks to her street, wishing her light would still be on.

Willa stood straight and began laughing with a wide and heart-stopping smile. My hand came to my chest, rubbing at the sternum. She was so damn beautiful it felt like my chest was going to cave in. I’d known Willa for years. I’d seen her face. Yet still, I’d missed her. How had I missed her? “You weren’t paying attention.”

Maybe it wasn’t that I hadn’t been paying attention. Maybe it was the lonely ache in my chest I hadn’t felt for years making me realize I wanted something more.

might have watched Jackson Page for years, but there was a lot I didn’t know about him. For one, the man was stubborn. He was so darn stubborn it was driving me insane. He’d been to the camp every day this week. Every. Single. Day.

I caught my breath and scowled down at Willa. “When were you going to tell me that we’ve kissed before?”

“I’m not bold. Or daring. But you . . . you were my risk. I put myself out there for you and it didn’t work. So yeah, I didn’t tell you about the kiss.”

I’d been a preteen when Mom had told me about how she and Dad had met, but it was a tale I never forgot. Mom and Dad were a classic example of love at first sight. They were the reason that, as a younger me, I’d never felt my crush on Jackson was ridiculous or silly or pathetic.

“I think what’s important is finding a person who makes you better. And someone you can trust with your heart. And, Jackson? I trust you with mine.” Even after our rocky start, I trusted him. “Can I tell you a secret?” He leaned down and whispered, “I have a crush on you.” I smiled. “It’s about time.”

“Me too, babe.” Babe. He’d called me babe earlier, right before I’d come. Maybe it wasn’t so bad. Maybe it was actually kind of perfect. “That one. Babe. I think I like it now.” “Thank god.” He laughed. “I was running out of options.”

“Oh, Willa.” Mom laughed. “I can practically see your thoughts. Just be safe as you play with his naked body.”

“I haven’t built you up into anything, Jackson. I just see you for the greatness you already are. I don’t need candles or flowers or a fancy hotel room.” “You deserve special.” “Yes, I do,” I declared. “And no matter where it happens, it will be. This is already going to be one of the most special experiences of my life, simply because it’s with you.”

Willa was special. She was the exception to all my rules, because with her, there was no need to guard myself against manipulation or deception.

I was glad I’d been able to give her this dream. Some other man—a man who believed in love—would get her others. But at least I’d gotten this one.

She wouldn’t find another man to make her dreams come true. I was her dream and she was mine.

“It’s easy to love someone when times are good. Real love is about holding on to one another when times aren’t.”

Somehow, the timid woman who’d occasionally come into the bar—the girl whose name I’d fucked up for years—was the only person who’d made it past my barriers. She’d broken them down, one by one, and given me a love I’d cherish always.

“Willa Doon.” I held the ring between my thumb and index finger, then dropped to a knee. “I love you. You’re the reason I smile every day. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. You’re my everything. And I want to be yours. I want to make every dream you’ve ever had come true. Will you marry me?”

“I was just thinking.” She smiled at her ring, then looked over. “When I was seventeen, I wrote in my diary that I was going to marry you one day.” My heart skipped. “You did?” She nodded. “Seventeen-year-old Willa is doing a victory dance right now.” “Do you still have your diary?” “Yeah. They’re in a box at my parents’ place. Why?” “Research.” I took her hand and kissed her knuckle, right above her ring. “Need to see what other dreams seventeen-year-old Willa had for her life.” I’d start with those, ticking them off one at a time, until all her dreams had come true.

I saw that sketch and it opened my eyes. You’d been there, right in front of me all that time, and I’d been a blind fool. I left the bar and called Hazel, begging for your address. Then I showed up at your door and you yelled at me.”

Jackson reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He thumbed through it and carefully pulled out a folded piece of paper. Slowly, he opened it up and handed it over for me to see. It was the drawing he’d just described. He’d kept it in his pocket all this time. “Jackson,” I whispered. “I like to keep that with me, but I can’t look at it every day, or it’ll get ruined. So instead, I have those.” He pointed over my head to the mantel. “Now tell me, what does this picture and all of those have in common?” I turned and followed his pointed finger. Just like the sketch in my hand, all of those pictures and the painting were of me with my hair down. “My hair.” He twisted a couple of strands around his finger. “Your hair. Your hair looks the same in all of them. So if I can’t pull out this drawing every day, then I get those instead.” “We could just get this sketch framed,” I offered. He took the paper from my hands and carefully refolded it before returning it back to his wallet. “It stays with me.” I stayed with him. That’s what he was really saying.

That day, he’d given me another dream. It was one I hadn’t written about in my diaries, but it was one I’d always held in my heart. “Do you love me?” I whispered. He kissed my hair. “I love you so much, Willow.” “Hey!” I pinched his side, making him chuckle. “Still too soon, huh?”