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Authors: Julia P. Lynde

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BOOK: Northern Proposals
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We looked at each other and burst out laughing. "Good thinking," Jessica told me.

"I was just happy you ran with it right away."

"Mike figured out we were acting."

"Yeah, but Matt was the problem, not Mike. Mike seems like he might be a nice guy."

"Yeah, maybe," she said. "But you're with me this weekend."

I laughed. "Mike might be a nice guy, but he keeps poor company. I'm happy to help you mend your broken heart."

Jessica looked at the jet skis speeding away and sighed. "They broke the mood."

"I'd like to email the
proposal to myself at work, just in case, then maybe we could have lunch and go for that hike?"

Shopping for a Cabin

Jessica made lunch for us. She made us each a brat and a hamburger and grilled some asparagus.  We each ended up eating half our food and tossed the rest in the refrigerator. We cleaned up a little and changed into hiking clothes before heading into the woods across the road.

There were trails. Jessica knew a loop
that she said would take an hour and a half. We walked side-by-side and talked. She was carrying a little camera and took a lot of photos. It felt like most of them were of me.

The attention was very flattering. Every time she pointed the camera at me, I became self-conscious. I finally told her that.

"Jade," she said. "You're beautiful, and I am having a lovely time with you."

"My hair is a mess and I'm wearing no make up," I complained.

She stepped closer and my heart rate immediately went up. "Jade, you're beautiful. Yeah, you have the wild look thing going on with your wind-tossed hair, but it's a part of your personality. It's part of what makes you complicated. It's part of why I'm happier here with you than I would have been with Susan. There is no way she would have gone walking in these woods with me. She is prettier than you are, but that's all she is. She's pretty. She's not as smart as you and she certainly isn't as complex as you are. This is part of you, and I love it."

"Telling me your ex- is prettier than me isn't how you get a kiss," I told her. I was trying to tease and lighten the mood, but Jessica turned away.

"Hey," I said more quietly, grabbing her arm and pulling her back to me. "I was teasing."

"Well, you're right, I probably shouldn't have said that."

"Actually," I said. "I like you more for having said it. It's flattering that you care about more than my looks."

She caressed my cheek, brushing an errant hair out of my
face.

"I'll try to stop being self-conscious about the photos
if you let me take some of you," I told her.

"If I point the camera at you, it's because I'm trying to catch you the way I see you," she said. "I'm not looking for a pose. I'm trying to catch th
e way your eyes light up, or ant intriguing expression. If you can ignore it, I'm going to get some amazing photos."

"I'll try. Give me the camera."

She handed the camera to me. I took her hand and nudged us along the path again. I got her talking about her parents and grandparents, and for the next fifteen minutes I got a lot of pictures of her. I wasn't sure if any of them were good, but she completely ignored the camera. By the time I was ready to give it back to her, I understood what she had meant. It was a lot more fun taking photos of someone who ignored the camera. Sure, they weren't going to go into a fashion magazine, but they were going to be far more interesting.

I relinquished the camera to her. It was hard, but whenever she pointed it at me after that, I ignored it and continued to do whatever it was I had been doing.
I found some wild flowers. Jessica said they were lady slippers, our state flower. The flowers were white and looked like little slippers, just an inch or so long. She took photos of me looking at the flowers and the flowers themselves. She seemed pleased by the results. The trail went around a pond with ducks swimming around. We stopped and watched them for a while.

"Did I cramp your style with the guys before?" Jessica asked me. "If I'd been straight, would you have wanted to encourage them?"

"No," I told her. "I was feeling vulnerable about it, and I don't like pushy guys."

"What about pushy women?"

"You're not pushy," I told her.

She grinned at me. "I am dominant."

"I don't even know what that means."

"Have you ever asked a guy out?"

"Sure," I told her. "A few times."

"W
ere they guys you were already dating?" I nodded. "So you've never taken the lead in the relationship?"

"I don't know what you mean."

She paused, turning to look at me. "Have you ever asked a guy out for a first date?"

"No. That's just weird."

She smiled. "If you were gay, and you liked another woman, would you ask her out?"

I thought about it. "I don't know." I paused. "I instigate things with my friends."

"With your boyfriends, how often do you instigate sex?"

"Never."

"Why not?"

I didn't have an answer for her.

"You don't like sex?" she asked.

"That depends upon
my partner," I told her. "Sex with some guys is all right. With others it's dull."

"Just all right? Take it or leave it?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Then you're doing it wrong." She
took a breath. "When I say I'm dominant, I'm kind of like the guys in your relationships. I tend to do the asking. I tend to do the instigating. I tend to be the one making sure that things are happening. I tend to take the lead. That's not an absolute. I also like to be asked and pursued"

"And you hold car doors."

"Yes," she said, smiling. "And I hold car doors."

"But
none of that makes you pushy," I pointed out.

"No, I wouldn't push someone into a relationship if she was letting me know she wasn't interested. Why would I do that? But in a relationship, I'm kind of pushy."

"Pushing her to do things she doesn't want?"

"No. That's not fun."
She paused. " You got a taste last night of what else 'dominant' implies."

"The silk?" I asked. Jessica nodded. "That was exciting. And intimidating."

"You looked hot," she said with a grin.

"In my granny
jammies?"

"Even in granny
jammies you looked hot."

I laughed. "No one looks hot in granny
jammies."

"Granny
jammies made you look all sweet and innocent. Adding my silk made you look vulnerable and trusting." She sighed dreamily.

"Seriously?"

"Now you know my deep secrets," she said with a smile. "I like sweet, innocent and vulnerable."

* * *

We finished our walk, teasing each other and taking more photos. "What would you like to do?" she asked.

"Seriously?" I asked. She nodded.
"Go talk to a realtor and see if we could look at that cabin you like."

"Really? It will certainly sell before I can afford it."

"I think it would be fun, but if window shopping would leave you frustrated, we could just go swimming again instead. I'm sure looking at me doesn't frustrate you at all."

She laughed.
"Jade, I'd love to go see it. I wonder if we can get in."

We each cleaned up from our hike in the woods before driving into town. There were two realtors in town. "Karen Carlson Realty sounds good," Jessica said. We parked in front of her storefront and stepped into the office.

"Be right with you!" a woman's voice came from the back of the office.

We looked around briefly. It was a standard receptionist area. There were six chairs
and a coffee table full of magazines. We sat down and talked quietly about cabins. After a few minutes, a forty-five year old woman stepped out and greeted us.

"Hi," she said. "I am Karen Carlson."

We introduced ourselves, then Jessica said, "I've been thinking about buying a cabin, maybe on Reece Lake. Is this the right place?"

"Absolutely," she said. "I can help you with a cabin anywhere in the area, and there are several available on Reece Lake."

"We're up for the weekend, and there's one I've had my eye on for a while. Is there any chance at all we could see it this weekend?"

"We can try setting up an appointment," Karen said. "Let's go back to my office and talk about what you're looking for."

We nodded and followed Karen into a back office. It was small but tastefully decorated in a northern woods scheme. The walls held photos, a mix of what were clearly pictures of her kids as well as scenes from the Minnesota woods. Her desk held several examples of artwork her children would have done in school. We sat down in the chairs waiting for us.

"Can I get you something? Coffee? Water?"

"We're good," Jessica said.

Karen chatted with us for a while. "Are you two a couple?"

"No, coworkers," I replied. "Yesterday I begged Jessica's help this weekend on a project, but she had arranged the weekend up here, so we fit both in."

"Oh, how lovely!" Karen said. After that, she oriented the discussion on Jessica. She took out paper and asked a bunch of questions, taking notes. Jessica clearly had thought about what she wanted, but then Karen asked, "Do you need a garage?"

"Not really," Jessica said.

"Actually," I said. "It would be preferred. Or at least enough land to add one."

Jessica looked over at me.

I smiled.

Karen made a note.

Karen asked some more questions before finally asking, "Have you thought about price range?"

"I think I need a little more down payment money than I have," Jessica said. "But I was hoping to find something for around two hundred thousand."

"Maybe as much as three hundred," I added.

Jessica looked over at me again. "I don't want payments that big, and it would be forever before I could have the extra down payment."

"Maybe I'm looking, too," I told her. I looked at Karen. "So maybe only two hundred, but possibly three hundred." Karen nodded and took more notes.

Karen had just a few more questions. I didn't interrupt. "Well, the good news is, there are cabins in the range you want. We also have good lots available, which might give you the opportunity to have your dream cabin built just the way you want." She talked about what she had. Then Jessica described the place on Marcy's lake.

"Oh, that's a lovely cabin," Karen said.
"I know just the one. The owner just lowered the price to one-ninety-four-five. There is no garage, but it's a deep lot, and you could build a garage." She paused. "Arlys Benson lived there year round, so it is even winter ready. Would you like to arrange a visit?"

"Yes, if at all possible."

She turned to her computer and typed for a moment, squinting at the screen. "The home is part of an estate sale. The owner died, and her daughter lives in California. She's hired a local handyman to keep the place up for her, but she just wants to sell it. I have no other appointments this afternoon. Let me see if I can set something up."

She picked up her phone and dialed a number she clearly had memorized. "Hey,
Lane, it's Karen. I have a couple here who would like to see the Benson cabin on Reece." Pause. "Today." Pause. "Excellent. Thanks, Lane." She hung up and turned to us.

"Did you want to look at others today?"

"Let's start with that," Jessica said. "And then while we're there, we can talk some more."

"Perfect." Karen got up and led us to her car. I climbed in back. Karen asked us where we were staying, and Jessica gave an abbreviated answer. The two of them
made small talk during the ten-minute drive to the cabin Jessica wanted. Karen turned off the dirt road onto the dirt driveway leading to the cabin. There was an area for parking but no garage.

We got out and I got a look at the back of the cabin. It was just as cute as the front. I liked it. If I looked, I could see the neighbors on both side, but they weren't right next to us. There was some privacy both from distance plus trees and bushes between us, including a few evergreens. Even in the winter there would be some privacy.

Karen led the way to the back door. She did the magic realtor things to open the door then led the way inside. We followed her in. Karen passed through the cabin to the front and opened the front doors, giving us a cross breeze that quickly aired the cabin out. Then she gave us a tour.

It was small, about the same size as Marcy's with two bedrooms and a single bathroom, but it was cuter. It was bright and cheery, and I immediately loved it.

"Is there a furnace?"

"Yes," Karen said, looking at the data sheet. "
There must be a basement." She looked around but didn't see a door that might lead to the basement.

BOOK: Northern Proposals
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