Free Rum and Raindrops: A Blueberry Springs Chick Lit Contemporary Romance by Jean Oram Page A

fine.” She rattled off a few facts he’d taught her over the years. “It reduces blood pressure, reduces the risk of depression and anxiety, increases your attention span, and many other good things. You don’t need to worry about me.”
    “Nature isn’t the same as human contact, Jen.” His expression grew serious. “I’m butting into your business because I see you as a daughter.” He paused to let that point hit home, and Jen swiped back sudden tears. “You still have time to straighten out your life and find happiness. Don’t let the past block you into a corner that no longer serves you.”
    “I’m happy,” she said, her voice strained from holding back tears.
    He gave her shoulder a big squeeze, shooting her a wry half-smile.
    “Quit letting your fight or flight response override your higher order brain. In other words, when you feel stressed or cornered, don’t flee. Not this time.” He waited, ensuring she heard him, his eyes kind as he placed his hands on her shoulders, leaning forward to meet her eyes. So strong, comforting, relaxing. “It’s time to make friends with the monsters under your bed. Stop holding people at a distance. That’s no longer protecting you. Let people know your past, your life, your dreams. They can only help you get past all of this.”
    Jen sniffed, wishing he’d give her a hug and take the pain away.
    “Stay, Jen,” he said gently, giving her shoulders an extra squeeze. “Don’t run away. Let Blueberry Springs be your pack. And don’t let timing get in the way of what you really want.”
    “In the way of what?” Her brow pinched in confusion.
    He gave her a knowing smile and headed to the front of the store, leaving her wondering what the hell he’d seen when he’d looked deep into her eyes. Because whatever it was, it sounded as though she was in for one heck of a ride.

    * * *

    Jen rubbed her legs down her thighs and kicked her legs out into the street from her perch on the curb outside her apartment. Rob was due to arrive within minutes, and all she could think of was the glimmer in Wally’s eyes when he’d encouraged her to grab Rob with both hands and thrust herself into his life. Okay, maybe not quite that . But she’d heard the message. Don’t run. Don’t bury her head in the sand and shut everyone out. Let people in.
    She sighed. Easy for him to say.
    She scanned the street for a specific, rusty old truck that might be blue or green. She daydreamed about how she’d apprehend the driver and pull a confession out of him. Then everything in her world would turn around and be right again.
    Jen crossed her arms and wished Rob would appear and rescue her from her thoughts. Although, it was going to be tricky enough to spend the day trapped with His Holy Major Hotness without pulling him behind some smouldering logs and into some sort of desperate post-apocalyptic fantasy that involved him hot and sweaty and totally smitten with her. Or worse, opening her mouth and scaring him off with her less-than-used higher order brain that Wally had been talking about.
    She repacked her backpack as she waited. Sunblock, a few snacks, water, small first aid kit, GPS, hat, bathing suit and towel in case she wanted to cool off in the creek while Rob did his investigating in the clearing. Tightening the drawstring at the top of her pack, she clipped it shut and tried not to think. Just when she began to seriously consider playing sick and head inside her apartment, Rob rolled up in a shiny red Dodge Ram that must have cost him more than she’d saved up over three years of working for Wally.
    She gave Rob a feeble wave and walked to the passenger side to let herself in. Mandy would go gaga for this thing. All pretty and bright. Big tires. Chrome glittering in a machine’s interpretation of a peacock showing off.
    “Morning,” Rob said, checking his mirror before backing into the street. His jaw clenched and his long fingers wrapped tight around the steering