He laughed. “Follow me.”
I trailed him up a walkway to the generous front porch of the white house. “Who lives here?”
“Well…” He chuckled. “That’s the question.” He turned the knob and opened the front door.
“What do you mean?”
“On a lark I was browsing the rental listings.”
“This is for rent? A whole house?” I stepped inside. The place was completely empty.
“Yeah. But the owner would prefer to sell. He’s an eighty-year-old man, and he’s moved into an assisted-living facility. This has been on the market for several months. He lived here for forty years without renovating, so it needs work.”
I looked around. The house had to be a hundred years old, but in a good way. It had gorgeous old wooden floors and a shiny banister over the stairs to the second floor. The plaster ornaments on the ceiling looked original, and there were pretty leaded glass windows everywhere. “It’s gorgeous. Can we afford this house?”
“Maybe,” he said. “We could rent with an option to own. At the moment we don’t have a down payment. But…”
“We both have jobs, and if the State of Vermont pays you for wrongful imprisonment…”
“…we’ll have a down payment.”
“Exactly.”
I turned around slowly. “God, I love it.”
“The bathrooms and kitchen are old,” Jude warned. “But if we do get to buy something, I want a fixer-upper. I’m not afraid of doing the work myself. You could pick all the colors. I’d do all the plumbing and tile work myself. I’d be slow, but there’s two bathrooms, so only one would be out of service at a time.”
Joy bubbled up inside my chest. “You’d do that for me? Renovate our house?”
He stood behind me and put his chin on my shoulder. “Nothing would make me happier than to make a home for you.”
“Wow. I thought we’d live in a tiny apartment somewhere and save up until we were sure we could buy.”
He put his hands on my shoulders and squeezed. “That would be the conservative thing to do. But I feel optimistic, Soph. For once, I feel like we’re going to come out on top.”
I spun around and checked his face and found something unfamiliar there. Hope.
“I love it,” I told him truthfully. “I’d love to live here with you. Show me more.”
Hand in hand, we walked up the antique staircase together so I could see the bedrooms and the upstairs bathroom.
We spent a good hour exploring the house. The cellar was a little scary, but otherwise it was perfectly livable, if dated. I pictured the rooms freshly painted. I dreamed of colorful throw rugs and Christmas stockings on the mantel.
Reluctantly I followed Jude outside, where he relocked the door and hid the key under the mat. That’s how we do things in Vermont.
“I want to live here with you,” I told him. “If you think the rent isn’t too much, let’s do it.”
He walked me to my car and stood there in the street beside the door while I warmed up the engine. I rolled down the window to say goodbye one more time. He leaned in and kissed me. But my sixty seconds weren’t up, so I waited some more.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
“No! Just waiting for the engine to warm up. You always said it took sixty seconds.”
He grinned.
“What? For three years I thought about you every time I started my car. Even when I didn’t want to.”
He tipped his head back and roared.
“What’s so funny?”
“Oh, you are so fucking cute.”
“Why?”
“The long warm-up is for a car with a carburetor—like the old Porsche. You need that warm-up time to get the right balance of air and fuel. But your baby has fuel injection.”
“Oh,” I said, my face coloring. “You should have been more clear.”
He smiled. And, damn it! I loved that smile.
“Talk later?” He leaned in for one more kiss. Then he backed away waving.
I blew a last kiss and then pulled away from the curb. I drove away, shaking my head. So many things I thought I knew about my life were wrong.
But that happened sometimes. All we can do is listen harder, hug harder and hope for the best.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Sophie
Three Months Later
Internal DJ turned to: “Memories” from Cats. Unfortunately. Because, ugh, Cats.
“Are you still up for heading to this party later?” I asked Jude as he piloted my car through the streets of Colebury.
“Sure. I’m all dressed up, aren’t I?” He was wearing khakis and a button down shirt, which for Jude was all dressed up. “And I want to dance with you in that dress.”
“Why? Do I want to know?”
He gave me a quick glance before turning his gaze back to the road. “It hugs you ass, in the best possible way.”
“That wasn’t my ass you were just checking out.”
He grinned at the windshield. “That dress is like Vermont, baby. Great views everywhere.”