Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
Cody
H er lashes fluttered and her mouth dropped open, then closed again. Maybe I’d been too direct with that one, but I’d never confronted it before. What good was the passage of time if I hadn’t learned and grown enough to say the things I’d always wanted to?
“That makes me sound pretty mercenary,” she finally replied, dropping a fry back to her plate.
“I don’t mean it to sound critical. More that you have been dedicated—extremely dedicated—to something. For years.” And it was that dedication that kept me from ever doing anything about my feelings for her.
Why was I pressing at this old bruise?
“That’s true. And even if it does mean I’m overly ambitious or whatever, I don’t regret it.”
I chewed the bite I’d taken, glad for a moment to formulate my reply. “It doesn’t make you overly ambitious. It’s not like you’re crapping on people, shoving them under the bus so you get ahead. You knew what you wanted, and it wasn’t Silverton. You did what you had to do to get out, and once you did, you went for it.”
She exhaled—maybe in relief? I couldn’t read her, not hardly at all anymore. Yet another change that’d come in the last few years. Our exchanging messages had been both very personal and totally distant at the same time. The fact that it’d been largely written texts meant I didn’t have any significant recent practice reading her expressions or tone of voice.
“I did. And I’ve had a blast.”
I pointed a droopy fry at her. “Not that it’s my place, but I’m proud of you for that. I’m glad you went big.”
I meant that. I was glad her leaving hadn’t meant she’d moved to some identical ski town in Colorado. Instead, she’d lived all over the world with her employer, or former employer, and she’d evidently had the time of her life.
The soft smile she gave me made my stomach twist.
“Thanks. I am too.” She sighed again. “Now I just need to figure out what I do next.”
We’d avoided the “What’s next” subject, so this territory proved new and I wasn’t about to tell her what I really wanted, which lay somewhere along the lines of kiss me and stay a while.
Instead, I wiped my hands on a paper napkin. “You’ll figure it out. And in the meantime, you’ll work at the lodge and be my neighbor.”
Finally, she took a bite. She nodded as she chewed, answering after she’d swallowed. “Very true. I’m looking forward to both.”
As was I. Sometime between seeing her two days ago and this morning, my anticipation for spending time with her had tied itself to a rocket and shot its way to the moon. Just one thing left I’d mentally circled enough to ask her about.
“Should I be concerned about some strapping German man showing up on your doorstep, proclaiming his love for you and begging you to take him back?” Or worse, greeting you with a kiss and clearly being your boyfriend?
She coughed, covered her mouth, and choked down the bite. “Uh, no. Definitely not.”
“That sounds definitive.”
“It is. I haven’t dated since Italy, and that was…” Her eyes flared.
I swallowed hard. “Not good?”
Her eyes flickered back and forth like she couldn’t figure out the right word. “A learning experience.”
“Ah,” I said, though I had no idea what she meant or what I meant. Mostly, I just felt mildly ill at the idea of her dating anyone.
“And you?”
“Me?”
“Anyone going to storm to your door and be horrified a woman’s sharing your porch?” One brow rose to punctuate her question.
I laughed out a breath, relieved at her joking. Mostly relieved that she’d asked and I wasn’t the weirdo desperate to know if she was single while she couldn’t care less about my status. We’d avoided this area of discussion the last few months as well, though I’d been insanely curious.
“There have been all kinds of people who stayed in that place. And no.” Our gazes snagged, her gorgeous eyes reeling me in like they had my entire life. “There’s no one else.”
She blinked twice, and it registered. That else there could mean something—it could mean no one else besides her. Fortunately, she didn’t seem to take it that way because she said, “Well good. Just two single weirdos back together again.”
I laughed. “I don’t remember you ever being single for very long. I’m sure it’s just a matter of time.”
Good grief. Why? Why had my brain taken a vacation and left my mouth in charge?
“I was much more social in high school. I barely dated in college, and I’ve had maybe two relationships since.”
Was it pathetic that jealously laced through me at that knowledge? I’d known she’d had boyfriends since we had stayed in decent touch. But just like I hadn’t focused on how much exercise had become a part of my life nor did I recap for her the small handful of failed relationships I’d run through in the last decade, she hadn’t reported in on her Italian lovers or… or whatever they were. It was a tricky combination of not wanting her to be alone and definitely not wanting to know about the men who’d been in the position I’d always wanted.
“Well, cheers to us,” I said, raising my water glass in her direction.
She smiled—something wide and kind of hidden at the same time. “Cheers.”
Something about her expression made me pipe up. “What’s that face for?”
Her brows jumped.
“What? Nothing.” She ducked her face into her glass.
I squinted. “Nah, that’s something. Just tell me.”
No idea why I needed to press her on this, but I did. My gut told me I did.
“I was thinking about how I always used to wonder what it would’ve been like if we’d dated in high school.” Her eyes flicked up to mine from under her lashes.
I nodded, maintaining an outward facade of calm. Inside? Sixteen-year-old Cody was fist-pumping like there was no tomorrow and thanking the gods of dentistry his braces would finally come off soon.
“Yeah, I’ve wondered that too, over the years.” Never mind that I didn’t really care we hadn’t dated in high school. I’d never wanted to experiment with Charlie. I wanted life with her. Poor sap that I was still wanted that, or I wouldn’t feel my palms starting to sweat and my throat tighten.
“Really? Crazy,” she said, her face sobering. Then she opened those gorgeous lips like she wanted to say something else, but Catherine zoomed by with the check.
I grabbed for it at the same time she did, her hand landing atop mine.
“No way are you paying for my lunch. You’re giving me a place to live, Cody.”
“You just got back. And you’re paying me rent. I’m paying for lunch.”
She slipped the small sheet into her lap where she knew my hand wouldn’t follow, sliding out of the booth and jogging—like, actually jogging—to the cashier station. Normally, they cashed people out tableside, but apparently, you could pay up front if you were stubborn as scrub oak. That was Charlie to a T, really. Scrappy, determined, and gonna have her way whether she ticked people off or not.
I wasn’t actually mad, but seriously?
“Told you I was paying. I was the one who invited you in the first place. You can’t pay if the other person invites you,” she said as she slid into the booth again.
The flat look I gave her told her what I thought of that.
She chuckled, and my stomach tripped over itself at the feeling the sound gave me. I’d been addicted to making Charlie laugh, and I’d always been pretty good at it. With other people, I wasn’t all that funny—more the quiet nice guy you’d get to know if you stuck around long enough. But with her… well, everything had always been different with her.
“Whatever. You can buy me a beer next week after work. How about that?”
“Done.”
“I’m pretty sure I get off at seven on Friday. There’s a really nice bar in the hotel, but I’d be happy to go to the pub or whatever you want. You tell me your favorites and I’ll show up, hopefully not too bedraggled after my first week of work.” A nervous expression flashed across her face before she buried it.
“I’ll think about it. The resort’s bar is great, and Friday night, it’ll be packed because Quinn Darling sings live and draws a huge crowd. It may be a bit much if you want low-key, but we can see how you’re feeling.”
I’d love to sit with her in the low light of the bar listening to Quinn’s sultry voice croon love songs, but I was also not an idiot. I didn’t need any help in the romantic feelings department, so planning on that atmosphere while also being near her after so long? Unwise.
“Okay. Sounds like a plan.”
We both exited the booth and the diner itself, standing right outside for a moment before she reached out and pulled me into a hug.
“Thanks for meeting me. Even though we’ve been texting, we still have a ton to catch up on.”
Turning her head, she pressed a kiss to my cheek that momentarily tied my tongue into a knot.
I cleared my throat and stepped back before my hands had their way and gripped her waist. “That we do. See you Friday.”
I turned and bee-lined down the street past work and Quinn’s place and the flower shop. The stores went by in a blur because all I could think was that she’d wondered too, and then she’d kissed me. And she’d initiated seeing me again.
So why the heck did I feel like this was a bad thing?