Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
CASEY
O ur drive home was quiet but not strained.
That was something I liked about Jesse. I didn’t have to talk all the time—fill the air with useless chatter.
After we got dressed and into the car, he’d put on the radio, finding an oldies station, and the music was nice, bringing back more memories of sitting in this car with Lou.
He reached across the seat and held my hand at times.
Squeezed my leg, silently letting me know he was okay.
When we arrived, he parked the car and turned to me. “I’m going to take Miller for a walk.”
I waited, but he didn’t ask if I wanted to join him, so I smiled. “He’ll like that.”
I took the basket and put the leftover food in the fridge.
It felt strange walking in my back door and Jesse going to his, but I had a feeling he needed some alone time.
I had a shower and sat down to check emails, Barney curling up beside me.
I stroked his head, smiling as he purred in happiness against my leg.
There wasn’t anything urgent, but I responded to the emails waiting, checked on the progress of a few things, then yawned and relaxed back in the chair.
I loved this piece and wondered if I could fit it in the SUV when I left.
I tended to sell or give everything away and only take the essentials when I moved, but I liked this chair. I would have to measure the back space.
A strange ache started in my chest, and I rubbed it, thinking it was odd to get heartburn this long after eating. I felt a semblance of sadness come over me, and I realized I didn’t like thinking of leaving Covington.
No doubt the connection to Lou.
I sighed, admitting it had something to do with the grumpy landlord as well.
The one who hadn’t been grumpy today at all. Even when he was acting jealous, he’d been different. Sweet. Funny.
He hadn’t come back from his walk yet. I wondered if he was brooding. Upset about telling me his story. I hadn’t meant for things to get so serious, but it happened.
I was shocked at his confession. I didn’t understand how parents could turn their backs on their own child’s pain. Prefer an outsider to one of their own. Choose one child over another.
I laughed dryly. My parents hadn’t been much different. My mother chose my father over me. My father chose alcohol over her. We all suffered.
And both Jesse and I had to live with the pain of those choices. Carry the truth with us.
I wondered if he’d been as grumpy before this all happened—or if he’d changed and become bitter.
Except his actions weren’t those of a bitter man.
I knew Lou had adored him. She’d spoken of him often when we talked.
Told me funny stories of his grumpy actions, how he grunted in annoyance at her thanks.
All the little acts of kindness he showed her.
I had looked him up in the archives of the local paper.
He was a community hero, having rescued several people from fires.
He pulled a man from a burning car seconds before it exploded, carrying him to safety.
That man, it turned out, was a big-time politician traveling through the area on his way home when he was struck by a truck.
Jesse was awarded a medal of bravery for that act.
He’d been voted top firefighter in the community twice. He was selfless and brave.
And carried hurt deep inside.
But not bitter.
I heard Miller’s bark, and a few moments later, he appeared through the door, his tail wagging, going directly to Barney, who sniffed him and gave him a headbutt. He jumped off my lap to the sofa, and the two of them curled up tight, happy to be together again.
I waited, but Jesse didn’t follow. I heard the shower upstairs and him moving around, but he never appeared.
I tried not to read too much into it. He liked his alone time and we weren’t joined at the hip, I scolded myself. And we weren’t a couple. Jesse made that clear, and I agreed. I didn’t want to be a couple.
But somehow, his absence felt big.
I watched a movie, falling asleep partway through. I stood and stretched, Barney asleep on the sofa, Miller gone, no doubt next door with his master.
I glanced at the time, realizing I’d been asleep for a couple of hours. The sunshine and activities of the day had tired me out.
I turned to go to the kitchen and stopped at the sight of a man at my table. For a second, I felt the rush of fear, but it faded quickly.
“You were snoring,” Jesse observed.
I shook my head. “Who’s breaking and entering now?”
“The door was open. I was hungry.” He indicated the container of food open on the table. “The chicken is as good cold as it was hot.”
I sat down across from him, pulling the box toward me. I chose a meatloaf sandwich and took a bite.
“You have no food at your place?”
“I paid for this food,” he grunted.
I shook my head. Thorne was back.
“Besides, I came over to get Miller and saw some chick flick playing on the screen and all three of you asleep. Snoring,” he added.
“I don’t snore.”
He held up his phone and hit play. He had a video of me and the animals. Miller snorted, Barney made funny little snuffing sounds, and I was snoring. Not loudly, but I was making an odd noise.
“Not very gentlemanly behavior, taping a lady snoring in her own home,” I sniffed haughtily.
He finished the piece of chicken he was eating and peered into the box, taking a sandwich and biting it.
“My house.”
I started to laugh. “I see your walk put you in a good mood.”
“I’m in a fine mood.”
“I’ll second that.”
We ate in silence for a moment.
“I’m sorry if I ruined our day,” I said quietly.
“You didn’t. It was a great day.”
I peeked at him. He stared down at the table.
“I’ve never told anyone what happened. Not a soul. I couldn’t bring myself to say the words. To admit I wasn’t loved.” He looked up. “But telling you wasn’t hard. Saying the words freed them from my brain. Like a relief. I felt lighter letting them out. Letting the pain out.”
“Oh.”
“So, far from ruining anything, you made it better.”
“You didn’t come over.”
“I needed a little time. In fact, I went to bed, thinking I would get a good, solid night’s sleep in. But I had to give up.”
“Why?”
“Because I couldn’t sleep. You weren’t there,” he stated honestly. “So I came to get you, but you were out. And you looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to disturb you.”
His confession rocked me. I wasn’t sure what to say, how to respond. It felt too personal—too close. So I chose humor.
“So you decided to raid my kitchen and wait?”
“I was going to give you another fifteen minutes and wake you up. If your snoring didn’t do the trick.”
“Asshole,” I muttered.
He stood, sliding the box back into the fridge. Then he held out his hand. “Come to bed, Pixie. I’m tired.”
I let him lead me where he wanted me to go.
I wanted it too.
The next morning, I peered at Jesse over the rim of my coffee cup. I was wearing his shirt again, and he was bare-chested, his skin gleaming in the morning light.
“I meant to ask you if I could work in the garden.”
He lifted one eyebrow. “You’re asking permission?”
I glared at him, and he laughed.
“Of course you can.”
“And do you have a drill I could borrow?”
He looked concerned. “Maybe. Why?”
“I was thinking of building an herb garden box for the end of the deck. The sun would be perfect there, and it would look nice. I love fresh herbs.”
“You can buy them premade.”
“They’re not what I want.” I picked up a pen and quickly drew out my idea of a wraparound box. “Like that.”
He lifted his eyebrows as he studied it. “O…kay.” He looked at me. “Have you ever used a drill, Casey? A saw?”
“I’ve used a drill,” I scoffed. “I looked it up on YouTube. It seemed pretty simple. Measure, cut, fasten.”
He rolled his shoulders, looking amused. “It’s a bit more complex. How about I go to the hardware store and buy the stuff and build it for you?”
“I wanted to do it.”
“You can help,” he assured me. “You can come with me and pick the wood. Choose your herbs and dirt at the garden center they have. We can build it this afternoon.”
I pursed my lips.
“There are some complex cuts if you want it to wrap around the porch,” he explained. “I’m not entirely comfortable with you using an electric saw. You can assist me, though. Hold the wood, help me screw it together.”
“Is that a euphemism?”
He laughed. “Not in this case.”
“Can I stain it?”
“If you use cedar, not right away. If you go a different route, you could.”
“Okay,” I agreed. “I like cedar. It smells good.”
“It’s good for outdoor projects too. So we’ll go with that.”
“Great.”
“We’ll go after breakfast.”
I nodded and he sat back. “So I assume since I’m building your herb garden box, you’ll be making that breakfast, Pixie?”
I stood and pressed a kiss to his teasing mouth.
“I guess so.”
I was excited as we parked outside the huge building. Thorne rolled his eyes at my obvious glee but refrained from saying anything. I was sure he was saving it all up for later.
He took some sort of monster contraption to hold the wood we needed, and I grabbed a cart.
I quickly realized we were two different types of shoppers.
I stopped every few feet, picking up totes or a cool-looking tool.
Even a new vacuum seemed interesting. Thorne sighed several times as he had to stop, come back, and pull me along, informing me we were here for a purpose.
“Not a damn exploration,” he muttered.
I stuck out my tongue at him, then hoped he hadn’t noticed.
Dutifully, I stood beside him, growing bored as he lifted pieces of lumber, eyeing them for straight lines, muttering about number eight or ten screws, dowels, glue, and the right footings so the wood wouldn’t rot as quickly. When a customer service person came out, I decided I was done.
“I’m going to look at plants,” I informed him.