Chapter 12 That Thoughtful Gesture in Spring
That Thoughtful Gesture in Spring
Erin
I pottered around the kitchen like I’d lived in the Wolcott homestead for years.
“What’s left…?” I muttered, running my index finger down my list. “Breakfast muffins, done. Callan’s lunch, done. Cookies…” I glanced over my shoulder at Matilda and grimaced.
She stood on the stool by the sink, stirring a wooden spoon in the big mixing bowl with the same steely determination she applied to most of her life. More flour was on her than in the bowl.
“Cook, cook, cook,” she sang.
At least she was having fun.
The cottage almost felt like home, but the cute-as-a-button kitchen was as tiny as a button, too.
The oddest things about the separation popped fresh tears into my eyes.
Cooking in that small space was one of them.
I missed having my own house. The shock of losing the life I’d built only made the world inside the old brick walls of the cottage feel even more lonely.
So, when the first hint of dawn woke in a hazy purple sky, I’d clasped Matilda’s hand in mine, and we’d stolen up the hillside, snuck the key from the pot of mint by the back door, and gotten to work.
A smile had been stuck on my face ever since.
Being busy reminded me of the days when Lila was here beside me.
It had been her kitchen then. She’d sip a cup of tea.
I’d complain about there being no decent coffee within ten miles. We’d laugh. Time had felt endless.
Heavy footsteps heading for the kitchen snapped me back to the present.
“Mim.” Callan was up, and he sounded pissed off. “You know I don’t mind you coming over, but…”
His broad shoulders crowded the doorway. Sunblock was smeared in a white line across his forehead, but his hands froze midair as if he’d forgotten how to rub it in. He stared at the mess in the kitchen.
“Sorry!” I grabbed a dish towel and swiped up the avalanche of flour that had spilled over the countertop. “I thought I’d have time to clean before you got up. Here.” I slid over the plate of breakfast muffins. “Grab one.”
Matilda beamed up at him. “They yummy!” She made a point of showing him how good she could stir the big spoon. “We cooking!”
“You don’t say?” Reaching for a muffin, Callan cocked his head at me with a wry grin.
“I really am sorry,” I said.
“Quit apologizing. I told you. You’re welcome anytime. I guess I just thought no one got up earlier than me.”
“Matilda’s body clock is tuned to daybreak.”
“Yeah?” He grinned at her. “We might make a little farmer out of you yet.” He bit a hunk out of the muffin and groaned.
My eyes blew wide open. I clenched the dish towel as I mopped up more flour.
Another groan rumbling in his chest sent me into a cleaning frenzy.
This was Callan. The boy next door. My last genuine friend.
He was off limits from whatever rampaging desire had reawakened in my body—no matter how sexy he sounded when he made those noises.
“Bloody hell, these are good,” Callan said. “What’s in them?”
“Bacon!” Matilda said.
“And peppers,” I added. “Some green onions…and about a ton of cheese…”
“Girls, they’re incredible.”
I grinned like a giddy fool. A few more compliments like that might erase the months Jeremy ignored me. “If you think that’s good…” I reached for the blue cooler on the countertop. “For you.”
My smile wavered the longer Callan stared.
“You… made me… lunch?” he said.
Had I overstepped the mark? Maybe he counted macronutrients like Jeremy. I bit down on my lip. “It’s nothing special… A bento box I got you…” I downplayed it even more by shrugging. “Til loves her bento.”
Matilda nodded. “If you good, you get a cookie.”
Callan blinked at me.
“It’s a container that you can pop lots of different things into,” I rushed to explain.
“I used up the last of the roast beef you had in the fridge to make a sandwich. There’s a tub of gravy you can pour on when you’re ready to eat.
I would’ve done it, but I didn’t want the bread to get soggy…
” I wilted worse than soggy bread. The pained expression on Callan’s face made me stammer through the rest of what I’d packed for him.
“There’s also potato salad…and fruit…and… a…a chocolate muffin…”
Callan opened his mouth before snapping it shut again.
Devastation poured out of me with the pitiful, “You don’t like it.”
Callan’s hands clasped my shoulders, and he bent lower until our eyes were level.
“I love it.” The soft smile that spread across his face stirred new flutters in my belly.
What was this look? He’d never smiled at me like this before.
“I’m going to walk out this door ten feet tall, but I don’t want you doing this because you feel you owe me. ”
“I did this because you work so hard… I wanted to spoil you a little…”
Without a word, his arms wrapped around me, and he yanked me against his chest so hard and so fast I wheezed out a strangled breath.
“Thank you,” he said.
I wasn’t sure if he heard my muffled “You’re welcome.” And I didn’t pull away. I didn’t even try. His powerful arms were quickly becoming addictive. I leaned in, my nose tickled by the metallic scent of sunblock, but underneath…
Oh.
My heart stuttered in my chest. Fresh soap.
Clean but rough skin brushed against my forehead, even though he’d shaved that morning.
My lips perfectly lined up with the bob of his Adam’s apple when he swallowed heavily.
What would happen if I kissed him there?
Would he push me away? Maybe he’d gasp but urge me to do it again. Did I want that?
Nuzzled in that safe spot tucked under his chin, my mind spun out of control, and my index finger toyed with the top button of his work shirt.
What did he look like under there now? I hadn’t seen him shirtless since we were teenagers, watching him dive-bomb off a rock to splash water on everyone lazing on the riverbank…
“E-Erin?” He uttered my name in a choked whisper.
Callan never called me that.
I was Ez.
Just Ez.
“I, um… Yeah. I—I better go.” The intoxicating heaviness of his muscular arms loosened, and the soft smile I’d gotten earlier was replaced with one so forced it looked like his face would crack.
“Thanks for the lunch. It’s…” His head dropped, fingers spearing through his hair.
A frustrated and quiet “fuck” was all I heard next.
Matilda’s eyebrows shot up. “That a no-no word, Cal!”
I tipped a smile at him. “You’d better get going before she chases you to the back field with her wooden spoon.”
Grinning, he grabbed a fresh muffin and took a bite. “It’ll be just like the good old days growing up then.”
I kissed Matilda’s forehead and eased away from the tiny girl sleeping soundly on my bed. Afternoon naptime was a quiet time on the porch for me.
Well, it used to be…
Lonely moments on the outdoor lounge overlooking the valley were noisy now, full of confusing feelings, and the deafening sound of my thudding heart when I remembered Callan’s palm on my waist. His hand was enormous.
What would it feel like if he slipped that warm, firm grip a little lower?
Would he be rough if he squeezed my ass?
I shivered. No, not Callan. He’d treasure me.
I sighed.
Was that what these feelings were? Callan was close by. He was rugged and a little unpolished, but genuine—the opposite of Jeremy’s slick charm. Was I searching for a man’s validation that I was still attractive after Jeremy had ripped my confidence to shreds? Maybe…
Speaking of the devil himself, I glanced at my phone.
Jeremy
I haven’t stopped thinking about you.
Yeah, right.
If he thought these low-effort texts would unlock my heart, he was dead wrong.
Steering his wheelbarrow of shit up to the gates of hell was the wrong move.
It was nothing but fuel to my anger. A sly smile tugged at my lips.
A message back might be just what I needed to distract myself from these confusing new thoughts about Callan.
Erin
I haven’t stopped thinking about you either.
Jeremy
Tell me, beautiful.
I paused to reconsider what I was about to do. When my lawyer eventually saw the message, I bet she’d sigh and do that solemn frown she liked to do.
“Rise above the pain,” she’d said. “Don’t do anything foolish to jeopardize your property settlement.”
How was it fair that Jeremy could hurt me so much, but the law stopped me from protecting myself? Rules made by old men forced me into a year-long game of limbo. A whole year. Rise above the pain? Easy for my lawyer to say.
Just wait until the judge sees this…
Erin
I was thinking about how lucky you are that all my tests came back negative.
It’s a pity, though. There are so many nice farming tools here that I’m sure one of them would’ve worked wonders on your penis.
I snorted a laugh. Restrained. My lawyer would prefer me using “penis” instead of “dirty, rotten, cheating dick,” surely?
You’re angry.
I can see how you got that medical degree. Whoa.
Erin, you’re better than this.
You’re right. I am. I’m way too good for you. Enjoy your dinner, pookie. Oh wait…
I was about to push my phone away when I saw dots flashing under Callan’s name.
I hurried back to my messages and prayed he was about to say something nice about the sandwich and not mention my hands wandering over his big, hard chest. Callan was a patient sort of man.
That was a prerequisite for growing up in his house.
The dots disappeared.
Okay, he was probably getting up the courage to tell me to back off.
A picture of the blue skies soaring over the valley popped into my messages—the same skies I smiled up at.
Callan
Work was a breeze this afternoon after a lunch like that. Best I’ve ever eaten.
Erin
The best ever?
Yup. Ever. Thank you.
I pressed my phone to my chest to hide my grin from the screen.
A wriggle on the outdoor lounge didn’t help scatter the tension throbbing through me.
The almost-forgotten feeling was more than just needing the validation of any man.
Men noticed me. I’d awkwardly laughed off a dinner invitation from a handsome tourist in the village store yesterday. His interest didn’t matter.
I wanted Callan’s attention.
Just his. All of it. I wanted to whisper into the crook of his neck and ask him to hold me… Kiss me…
Would he be gentle—
God.
The vivid fantasy of Callan overpowering me and pushing me onto the bed was such an unexpected shock, I shot off the lounge.
Blood thumped in my ears. Flustered, my cheeks on fire, I staggered around the porch picking up Matilda’s failed attempts at daisy chains.
I’d disappear inside to do the dishes next.
Vacuum. I’d do anything to keep busy—except imagine my friend arching over me like that.
It was wrong. All in my head. Forbidden.
And it was too soon…
Wasn’t it?