Secret Vows

The armed guard leaned out the window, smiling. “Nice truck, Mr. Cole. What year is it?”

“Nineteen fifty-six.”

The guard pushed a button on a console, activating an eight-foot electronic gate. “Have you thought about selling it?”

“No,” Jason and Greer chorused, and then shared a smile. The gate opened and he drove through. “You see I’m not the only one who wants to buy Johnny B. Goode II.”

Greer stared out the side window at the sprawling Colonial with meticulously landscaped lawns and gardens. It was minutes before she saw another house, this one with a five-car garage. The Georgian-style mansion boasted eight chimneys. Bear Ridge Estates overlooked the Hood River Valley and she tried imagining waking up year-round to the lush views of the beautiful fertile valley with fruit trees and the magnificence of Mount Hood.

She didn’t know what to expect Jason’s home to look like when seeing the others they’d passed, but it wasn’t the three- and four-story ostentatious residences which were more a showplace than a home for family living. It sat in a sunny knoll amid the fragrant pine forest. Its design was reminiscent of a hunting lodge. The attached three-car garage was constructed in the same design as the main house.

“Don’t move,” Jason said when she made the motion to open her door. “I’ll help you down.”

Well all right, she thought, waiting as he got out and came around the truck. Finally she’d met a man who’d help a woman in and out of a vehicle without her asking. It was a pet peeve of hers, and she and her ex had argued constantly about it when dating, yet she’d foolishly married him because the sex was good.

Jason extended his arms and she slid off the seat, her hands on his shoulders as he lowered her effortlessly to the ground. She hadn’t missed the flexing of his solid muscles under her fingertips when she held on to him. His clothes had artfully concealed a well-conditioned physique. She reached for her tote. Resting a hand at the small of her back, he escorted her to a side entrance. Lifting the door handle, Jason punched in a code.

Greer smiled up at him when he pushed open the door. “It’s nice not having to use a key.” She followed him into a mud/laundry room with a slate floor. There were built-in shelves filled with red, white and blue canvas bins.

“I have an unfortunate habit of misplacing my keys.” He sat down on a bench and removed his shoes. “I have socks that will fit you if you want to take off your boots.”

“Thank you.”

She sat on the bench, unzipped the four-inch booties, wiggling her toes. The polish on her left big toe had chipped. She’d set aside Mondays to drive into town for a day of beauty that included hair and a mani-pedi. Jason pulled out a bin labeled Socks and handed her a pair of white golf socks.

“Have you had breakfast?”

Her head popped up. “No.”

Jason held out his hand, pulling her to her feet. “Neither have I. We’ll talk while I cook.”

“You cook?”