Chapter 112
Tilda
Me: How was work today?
I tap my fingers against the counter.
Grumpy Ranger: Fine.
Grumpy Ranger: People are idiots.
Grumpy Ranger: How was your day?
I grin at his grumpy answer.
Me: It was nice. No idiots over here. Just made some suncatchers on the front step while Quackers played in her pool.
Grumpy Ranger: Show me.
Me: She seemed so happy.
I send him a video of her splashing around in the water.
Me: Pretty sure I spotted some of Ralph’s hair tucked under a rock by the food dish.
Grumpy Ranger: We should’ve shaved him bald and given her all his hair as a reward.
I snort.
Me: She really was magnificent.
Grumpy Ranger: She was. And this is a good video. But I meant for you to show me the suncatchers you made.
The microwave dings, letting me know my popcorn is done, but I don’t reach for it.
I just stare at my phone, reading Ethan’s text again.
That very first day, when we very first met, he called me ridiculous.
And it hurt my feelings.
A lot.
But even in the moment, I knew he didn’t mean it that way. The way my family always meant it.
It’s just a word people use.
But it still made me cry.
I didn’t want to cry. Didn’t want to do that in front of a stranger. But so much had happened… it was the final straw.
And Ethan… He looked horrified. I could tell he felt bad for saying it, for making me feel that way.
Since then, he hasn’t said that word around me again.
And now, instead of calling me silly for playing with beads, Ethan bought me beads.
And instead of ignoring it as some foolish hobby, he’s asking me to show him.
I know it’s too soon.
I know we still have so much to learn about each other, that we need to spend more time together. But I also know that I’m cooked.
A goner.
A girl falling in love.
Me: It’s a work in progress.
I hold up the suncatcher in one hand and try to angle it under the kitchen lights just right before I take the photo.
It’s roughly the shape of a wind chime. With a ring of beads at the top and single strands of varying lengths hanging down.
But the ring is more of a wonky oval. And the strands keep getting tangled.
Grumpy Ranger: Make me one.
Grumpy Ranger: Please.
I roll my lips together.
Me: Since you asked like a Good Boy…
Grumpy Ranger: You only get to say that in person.
Me: Why?
Grumpy Ranger: You know why.
Grumpy Ranger: Bad Girl.
Good Boy: What are you doing tonight?
I sit up from my lounging position on the couch.
Me: Perfecting dessert popcorn.
I wanted to text Ethan all day.
Actually, I wanted to ask him if he’d come over tonight. Or ask if I could go to him. But I didn’t want to come off as needy.
So, instead of spending my evening with my hot husband, I’m spending it alone.
Again.
Good Boy: What’s dessert popcorn?
Me: Regular popcorn but you add melted butter, cinnamon, and sugar.
I look down at the sugar crystals sprinkled all over my pajamas.
Me: It’s a little messy. But worth it.
Good Boy: I’m putting in my official request to try this.
Me: What are you doing tonight?
I feel a surge of hope that his answer will be you. But he dashes that hope a second later.
Good Boy: About to teach a class on water conservation.
My brows lift.
Me: Wow. That’s nerdy.
Me: Kidding.
Me: Really, that’s cool.
Me: Sorry. I didn’t mean to call you nerdy.
Good Boy: Dammit, Starlight. You made me laugh out loud, and now everyone in the room is staring at me.
Me: Sorry.
Good Boy: You’re not sorry.
I grin down at my phone.
Me: I’m not sorry.
Good Boy: Such a pest.
Me: What does Starlight mean?
Good Boy: I’ll tell you later.
Good Boy: Now wish me luck.
Me: Good luck, Husband.
Sighing, I set my phone down on the couch cushion beside me.
I wish I’d known about this class thing that Ethan is teaching. I would’ve gone.
Maybe not for the topic, though I’m sure it’s very important. But more because I want to spend time with him. And if that time is spent just staring at his handsome face… so be it.
Which leads me to wonder about the people who are attending.
Are they locals interested in the topic?
Is it at the park?
Is the room filled with horny women who, like me, just want to stare at Ethan for an hour?
Is it longer than an hour?
Dropping my head back, I let out a groan.
I really need to find something to occupy my evenings.