Chapter 6
MALCOM HAD REALIZED A SECOND too late that Lori was sleeping. Her eyes flew open when he opened the door, so he continued onto the porch, a plate of dinner in his hands. He’d seen her leave the back deck maybe thirty minutes ago. The group of friends didn’t seem to be bothered with her not returning after a few minutes. Malcom wasn’t bothered either. Just curious. Was she preparing more food in the kitchen? Gathering more drinks?
He wasn’t exactly watching the time, but when the chicken came off the grill, and she still didn’t return, he finally asked one of the women—Everly—if Lori was coming back.
“Oh, you should go look for her,” Everly said, a wide smile on her face. “See if she needs help with anything. Maybe she went to her bedroom?”
All the women smiled at him. What was going on?
Malcom waited a few more minutes, and when Lori still didn’t show, he loaded up a plate of food and carried it into the house. He didn’t bother to look to see if anyone was watching him, or wondering what he was doing.
Inside, the cabin was quiet. It felt intrusive to start knocking on bedroom doors. Then he noticed a porch swing through the front windows. Maybe it was a hunch that led him out the front door. But there she was. Curled against the cushioned swing, her legs tucked up, her eyes closed.
Before he could backtrack, she opened her eyes.
He tried to explain himself, and she blinked a few times, as if trying to remember why she was sleeping on the porch.
“Sorry,” he continued. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I can save this for later.”
She slid her legs down so she was in a regular sitting position. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, and her eyes looked sleepy—sexy, really, but he wouldn’t let his thoughts go there.
“I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” she said, stifling a yawn. “It’s just so peaceful out here, and I didn’t get to bed until late last night.”
He nodded because he knew why.
Her smile appeared. “You brought me food? Or is that for you?”
Malcom chuckled. “It’s for you. The chicken was done a while ago, so it might not be warm anymore.” He moved closer to her. “Do you want it out here? Or to go join the others?”
Lori eyed the plate. He’d even brought utensils and a water bottle.
“Right here would be great. Join me? I think there’s enough for two.”
“Oh, I ate.” Malcom handed her the plate. “Want company? Or are you by yourself for a reason?”
“Have a seat,” Lori said, shifting over a little.
The swing swayed, and Malcom steadied it, then sat down. There was plenty of room between them, but that didn’t stop him from being aware of how close they were in fact sitting. She smelled nice. Like sweet apples. Was it her shampoo?
“If it’s too cold, I can take it to the microwave,” he said.
“Oh, it’s fine,” she said, taking a bite. “Thank you so much.”
His phone buzzed, but he ignored it. He should have turned the thing off. “I didn’t know what you like, so I dished up a little of everything.”
Lori laughed. “I noticed. I mean, I like it all, but there’s a lot. Even if I were starving, this is more of a man’s portion. Not to be sexist or anything.”
“Hmm,” he said. “Some women eat bigger meals—especially those who are intermittently fasting like my sister-in-law. She eats more than my brother, but he also snacks.”
“That’s me,” Lori said. “I’m definitely a snacker. I think all readers are. A good book is even better with snacks.”
“Oh really?” He found himself smiling. “Is that a rule or something? Maybe I’d enjoy reading more if I’d known about the snacks.”
“You for sure would.” Lori took a bite of her salad. “What was the last book you read?”
That made him pause. “Uh . . . can I get back to you on that? Unless articles on a news app count?”
“That definitely doesn’t count,” she said with a smirk. “Do you like a certain genre? Business books? Novels? Thrillers?”
“Not business books, although I should probably read some,” he said. “I went through a Tom Clancy stage in my early twenties.”
She nodded, looking pleased. “So there’s hope. I mean, if you’ve liked a certain author or genre in the past, then that’s at least a starting place.”
Malcom chuckled. “I’m flattered that you think I can be redeemed.”
Lori’s gaze connected with his, and he saw the interest there—it was unmistakable. And probably relatable too, because he was definitely interested in her. As a friend, of course. They’d both agreed they weren’t looking to date anyone, so that pressure was off. They could just hang out and talk about books he’d never read.
“If you want any recommendations, I have plenty,” Lori continued, then took another bite of the chicken. Her earrings swayed with the movement. “But I don’t want to come at you like a fire hose.”
Malcom had to laugh at this. “I really appreciate your consideration.”
“No problem.” She held up her plate. “Want anything? I’m full.”
He eyed the food. There was still at least half of it left. He could eat more. He hadn’t eaten all day except for a protein bar that morning. “I’ll eat some.”
She handed over the plate, then held up the fork. “Should I grab you a new one?”
“Are you sick or anything?” he asked, mostly teasing.
“Nope. But I could be carrying something. You never know.”
“I can risk a few cooties.”
Lori laughed, which made him smile. He liked her laughter.
His phone buzzed again, but he still ignored it. He wasn’t too worried since the job site was closed today, so it wasn’t any sort of emergency. Maybe it was his brother? Or more likely Penny asking if he had plans tonight. Or maybe it was Jay wanting to talk about the night before, when Malcom had bailed early on their double date.
Lori drew her feet up under her again as he finished off her plate—he was hungrier than he thought. She handed over her half-filled water bottle and he finished that off too.
“Thanks again,” she said. “It’s nice to be waited on.”
He felt his smile appear. “You’re welcome.” Just then, his phone rang. A text he could ignore, but phone calls usually meant something was more urgent.
“You can get it,” Lori said.
He pulled the phone out of his pocket. Bronson’s name glowed on the screen. “It’s my brother,” he said, right before answering.
“Dude, where’ve you been?” Bronson said. “I’ve been trying to reach you. I’m heading out for the rest of the weekend, and I need you to fix a broken gate latch at one of those cabins. Then stay on-call for Sunday. Sorry I have to bail. But Monday, we’ll have Rick be the man.”
“I thought you agreed with Penny to be on-call the entire weekend,” Malcom said. “This was a deal between you and her. Not me.”
“You and I are partners, though, not Penny,” Bronson said. “I’m not going to bail on my wife.”
“Kari told me you didn’t have any plans.”
Bronson chuckled. “You know women. They get to change their minds. Anyway, I’ll text you the work order. Sorry to bail, but I’ll owe you one, and that’s never a bad thing.”
“You owe me a lot more than one—” he started to say, but Bronson had already hung up.
Malcom exhaled in frustration. He stared at his phone for a couple of seconds, trying to wrap his head around the fact that his brother and sister-in-law had put him in this position. He already worked weekdays on the job site from sunup to sundown. He didn’t mind weekend work, when it was for his project. This new maintenance contract had never been his idea, but now apparently he was stuck with it.
“You have to go be Mr. Fix-It again?” Lori asked.
He turned his head. “Yeah, sorry. There’s been some miscommunication going on between my brother and me lately. Bronson’s wife Kari and her sister Penny in the mix makes things even more complicated.” He rose to his feet, plate in hand. “I guess my break is over.”
“I’m sorry.” Lori moved to her feet as well and faced him. “Here, I can throw this away. Can you come back after? I’m sure all the guys want you to stick around. How long does fixing a gate latch take?”
“I can’t say until I look at it,” Malcom said. “I have tools in my truck, but if it needs to be replaced, I’ll have to head into town to the hardware store. If it’s even still open.”
“It closes at six on Saturday night, like every night,” she said. “But I know Gil, the owner, and he could let us in.”
Malcom stared at Lori. “Really? I mean, that would be great.” He paused. “Wait. You don’t need to come.”
She gave him a small smile. “I kind of want to come. I mean, not on your errands, but maybe you can drop me off at my place when you get back to town? I’m sort of over being the only solo person at this retreat.”
Surprise rippled through him. “I thought they were all your best friends.”
“Oh, they are. And they’ve all matched up with great guys.” She lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. My head’s not in it, and I don’t want to bring anyone down.”
Malcom didn’t know what to say here, how to respond, but if she wanted a ride back to town, he didn’t mind giving her one. “You’re okay with checking out that gate first?”
Lori nodded. “I’m not in a hurry. I just . . . wouldn’t mind leaving here earlier than tomorrow.”
“Okay. No problem.”
“I’ll be really fast in packing up,” Lori said, squeezing his hand, then letting go. “Just give me a couple of minutes.”
Before he could say anything more, she went inside to the kitchen and dumped the plate and empty water bottle into the trash. Then she hurried up the stairs, leaving him standing in the entryway, feeling the lingering warmth from her hand on his.
He headed to the kitchen and perched on a stool. While he waited for Lori to pack, Brandy and Ian came inside, carrying a couple of empty platters.
“Did you find her?” Brandy asked.
“Yeah,” Malcom said. “But I’ve got to take off. I guess I’m still the on-call maintenance guy, and I’ve got a gate to fix.”
Ian frowned. “Oh, sorry about that. Do you want me to come help you?”
“It’s fine,” he said.
“I’m helping him.” Lori appeared in the kitchen, carrying a duffle bag. “I’m also going back tonight. He’s dropping me off. Sorry I can’t stay longer.”
Brandy’s gaze widened. “You’re leaving ? We’ve got a bunch of stuff planned for tonight and tomorrow.”
“I know, and I’m sorry to dash off,” Lori told her, not looking sorry at all. “Marci said the store was super busy today, so I’ve got to go through inventory and put in new orders ASAP.”
Brandy’s frown appeared, and Malcom knew she wasn’t buying that story. But she stepped forward to hug her friend anyway. “Well, we’ll miss you,” she said, her gaze shifting to Malcom over Lori’s shoulder. “Drive safe, you two.”
“Tell everyone bye for me.” Lori stepped away from Brandy, then started walking toward the door.
Malcom watched her swift walk. She meant business. “Okay. Well. See you all later. Thanks for everything.”
“See you at the gym Monday?” Ian said.
“I’ll be there.”
Malcom headed out of the kitchen and found Lori waiting for him on the front porch. “You don’t want to say goodbye to the rest of your friends?”
She waved a hand. “I’ll see them soon enough. Besides, I don’t need everyone fussing over me.”
“Makes sense.” He reached for the duffle. “I can carry that.”
He noticed her hesitation, but then she relinquished it. The weight surprised him. “Wow, it’s heavy.”
She shrugged. “Books.”
“Should have guessed.”
He liked the way the edges of her eyes lifted when she smiled. Once they reached his truck, he opened the passenger door, and she climbed in. Then he set the duffle on the back seat. As he walked around the truck, he wondered why she was so keen on leaving the weekend retreat. With him, no less. Surely one of her friends would have driven her back if necessary. Well, he wasn’t going to pester her about it.
“Thanks for this,” Lori said, when he settled into the driver’s seat. “You’re saving me.”
“From what?” he asked, genuinely curious. He pulled up the text from Bronson with the work order, and plugged in the address of the cabin.
She heaved out a sigh. “From another twenty-four hours of being the odd man—or woman—out. I was trying to not let it bother me, and for the most part it didn’t, but when you showed up—”
“Wait, this has something to do with me?”
“Not you specifically,” Lori said with an apologetic smile. “But it was the fact that you’re single too. And I’m the last holdout, apparently, so my friends decided that we should immediately fall in love and live happily ever after.”
“Wow, no pressure there.” Malcom pulled out of the circular driveway. He glanced over at her. She was gazing out the window, biting her lower lip, her shoulders tense. “So you didn’t want to deal with the aftermath when I left the barbecue without proposing?”
She looked over at him and smirked. “Something like that. I guess I didn’t want the weekend to be all about ‘what should we do about Lori’ and ‘how can we get Lori and Malcom to go out on a date?’” She waved a hand. “Who knows what they’ll think of my driving off with you though.”
“You’ll just have to set them straight,” Malcom said as he slowed the truck, then turned onto the main canyon road. “Tell them you helped me fix a gate, then I took you straight home. No declarations of love and no proposals.”
He knew he was grinning, and it made his heart light when she grinned back.