Chapter 12 #2
“No.” To prove her point, she cut into the eggs and stabbed a fluffy bit oozing with cheese. “It’s not that, just…” she trailed off as she sampled a bite. “Oh, wow.”
I waggled my eyebrows. “I know.” I cut off a hunk and speared a tomato with it. “Mom made sure all of us could cook. I found out I liked it.” I hummed a little as I chewed. “Got any wine?”
She moved to get up, but I waved her back. “Where?”
“I hide it from myself in the fridge.”
I looked over my shoulder with a raised brow. “Why?”
“Because I usually only get two sips into me before I pass out, then I just waste it.”
“Well, no wasting it tonight. I’ll finish it off if you pass out.”
“Gee, thanks.”
I laughed and found the bottle of local Riesling in the deli crisper, behind a package of shredded taco cheese and pepperoni that I’d missed on the first perusal. I grabbed that and the wine.
She was quiet as I opened the bottle and finally found glasses in the fourth cupboard I’d opened. I could tell she was barely holding her tongue. I also had a feeling I screwed up her very carefully organized space, but she was too polite to tell me.
Or too tired.
That was probably the actual answer. She had no problem bossing me around any other time.
I finally found a few aluminum stemless cups with Wine Down and Wine Time scrawled over the glittery sides with ridiculous sippy cup tops.
I tossed the tops back into the cupboard and poured the wine into both. At least they’d keep the wine cool.
By the time I cut up the pepperoni and brought everything over she was more than half way through the frittata.
I set the bowl and cups on the table.
“It’s really good.”
“I’ll let my sister know you like her recipe.”
“You have two, right?”
I nodded. “And two brothers. You?”
She looked down at the plate and chased a tomato that tried to roll across the plate. She finally stabbed it with a bit more force than needed.
“That good, huh? Family can be hard.”
“Sounds like you love yours.”
And she didn’t? The idea of it filled in some gaps.
She didn’t really have a lot of photos in her place—it seemed as if greenery had replaced any bit of familial space on the walls.
Not that it told the tale for everyone. Some people weren’t big on keepsakes and photos, but the few I noticed were of the Mannings, especially her and Beckett mugging for the camera.
“My family is noisy and chaotic, but yeah.” I snagged a piece of pepperoni. “What about you?” I prompted again.
She lifted her shoulder. “Sister and mother.” She lifted her wine and took two long gulps.
Must be really good on that front. I laid my hand on hers until she gentled the grip on her fork. “You don’t need to talk about them.”
She sighed. “It’s fine. You’ll probably hear about it sooner or later.” She drained the glass and stood. There wasn’t much ground to cover in the small space. “Want more? I definitely want more before I tell you about Kaylee.”
“Hey.” I caught her wrist and dragged her back.
She curled her fingers into a fist, the tension pinging off her like a live wire. Her hair fell forward, and that intoxicating blend of clean and moonflower drifted my way. A fat, still damp curl hid half her face, but one burnished gold eye peeked out and was flecked with angry amber.
“It’s okay. You don’t need to talk about them—her—if you don’t want to.”
“Might be nice for someone to have the correct story before they get the more creative one.” She shook me off, this time more gently, then picked up her glass. She seemed to collect herself while she had her back to me at the counter.
The clatter of something wooden followed by the hefty whomp of the knife sliding through the last of the pepperoni made me wince. When she came back there was an orderly display of meat fanned out on what could only be a mini charcuterie board.
She traded the board for the now empty frittata plate and set her wine goblet down before going to the sink to wash the plate and wipe down the counter.
Because she obviously needed the time, I sipped my wine, surprised that it was actually a lovely fruity taste. It didn’t really go with the spicy and acidic meal, but I knew a good wine when I tasted one. I was more of a dry red guy, but I’d definitely have to try something else from the winery.
She gripped the edge of the sink and I heard the tink of her rings on the stainless steel.
I set my cup down and went to her. Sometimes it was easier to tell a story when it wasn’t face to face. I slid my arm around her middle then eased her back against me. I nudged her hair back over her shoulder and dropped a kiss on her bare shoulder, waiting her out.
Her hand came up to push mine away, but I kept my hold firm.
Finally, she relaxed against me and let her head rest on my chest. Her hair was silky against my skin, still damp because it was so damn thick.
I slid my hand along the short hem of her chopped up shirt, my thumb sliding across the slice of her belly showing.
“Kaylee is younger than me. From the minute she realized there was life outside of Turnbull, she planned to leave.”
“And you planned to stay?”
“No. I’d been saving up to leave, but I like a plan.
I’m not impulsive like…them.” It seemed as if she was choosing her words carefully.
“I have a good head for numbers and can wrestle a budget into submission—just ask Beckett. I annoy the crap out of him. It’s probably more than half the reason he put me in charge of the Taproom. ”
I breathed through the knee-jerk reaction to get pissed about how close she was with Beckett. I didn’t see them around each other a lot to know if it truly was friendship only. When I’d first met her at Lucky’s, Beckett hadn’t looked at her like a friend.
Whether that was just surprise because of the way she dressed or he had an epiphany was still something I needed to follow up on for my own peace of mind.
And that was my own bullshit, which didn’t belong here right now.
“I’m positive he wasn’t just getting you out of his hair.”
“Hmm.” She didn’t sound convinced. “Me and Kaylee went into business together since we were both good with numbers. Lots of small businesses in Turnbull suck at bookkeeping. It’s not a sexy talent and once people figured out they didn’t have to tear their own hair out over doing that and taxes—well, word of mouth got around and we were juggling quite a few accounts. ”
“I don’t hear the bad.” And I also wondered why she didn’t continue to do that instead of working in the orchard. Physical labor was miles away from number crunching.
She was quiet for a moment. I could feel the tension ratcheting up inside of her as a moment became two and then extended into an uncomfortable silence.
Just as I was going to turn her in my arms, she detangled herself from me.
“Let’s just say she left me high and dry.
I couldn’t continue and it screwed up my reputation.
I let a lot of people down.” Her voice was rough and thick.
She grabbed the wine glass and went back to the table to sit.
Well that was that, I guess. There was obviously more to that story, but I wouldn’t press her to tell me tonight. It would only push her further away. Instead, I sat across from her and filched a pepperoni from the bowl. “So, sister that is a jackass, then.”
The harsh laugh was full of contempt. “Something like that. She left town and I haven’t spoken to her since.
My bio-dad was never really in the picture and me and my mom don’t exactly do the family dinner thing that often.
” She lifted her cup and took a regular sip.
“Or holidays for that matter. She’s usually conning one of her current boyfriends to take her on a cruise or an all-inclusive resort.
Until she ends up back in Turnbull when she gets tired of them or they run out of money. ”
“Ouch.”
She winced. “Sorry. I guess maybe I shouldn’t drink any more of this.” Then she shrugged and lifted it to her mouth again. “Fuck it.”
I took the cup away from her.
“Hey.”
“If we’re going to get drunk, we should do it somewhere more comfortable. I didn’t see a TV in that jungle of a living room.”
One dark brow rose. “Don’t think one bottle of wine is going to do the job, even if I am a relative lightweight.”
“Ah, but the miracle of delivery is always to the rescue.”
She shook her head. “I don’t do delivery. Too expensive.”
Again, that money thing. It itched at my brain with all the jobs she had when I knew she made a good living at the orchard. A few more puzzle pieces clicked with the sister information, but tonight wasn’t about figuring out everything.
I wanted her in the now.
Not in the murky past and not in the nebulous future. Just here, with me.
“Good thing I do. Take that very fine ass out to the couch and find a movie for us.”
She frowned. “You’re handling me again.”
“How about we call it taking care of you, and I have a feeling not too many people do. I don’t mind being one of the few.”
“Fine. I’m too tired and sore to argue.” She shuffled out of the kitchen.
A whir of something mechanical I couldn’t identify floated after me as I headed to her bedroom for my jeans to find my phone. It was still too hot to put my clothes back on. I was quite sure the delivery driver had seen much worse than me in my boxers.
Flicking open my often used delivery app, I found a nearby pizza joint. It was still early enough to add on an order to a local liquor store. I ordered a few bottles of white that I figured she’d like and some red for myself.
I didn’t care if I had to watch a movie on the iPad I’d spotted on her couch. Right now she needed some pampering. And that started with cleaning up the rest of the kitchen so she didn’t have to deal with that either.
By the time I did both, I found her settled on the massive couch as she absently pointed a remote at the projector screen that had been hidden in the ceiling.
“Wow, that’s some system.” I glanced at the high definition projector tucked behind her couch on a shelf.
“Yeah, Beckett went overboard for me at Christmas.”
“Beckett bought you a thousand dollar projector?” My voice darkened. Best friends my ass. That’s what a man bought for a woman he cared for.
“Probably.” She rolled her eyes. “He probably brought Justin with him to shop. That’s his other brother.
He’s been busy with getting ready for harvest. I swear, all the tractors in the orchard know to break just before the busy season.
Better than during, I guess.” She frowned up at me. “What’s with the face?”
“You keep telling me Beckett is just a friend—quite the showpiece for just a friend.”
“You gotta get over this crap or we’ll never be anything other than tonight, pal.”
“You don’t think it’s weird?”
“No. Because we’ve been friends since we were seventeen. Beckett is generous with his family and he was tired of watching movies on my iPad with me.”
“How many times does he come over to watch movies?”
“You’re ridiculous. And not often. We’re both really busy.” She sighed. “Look, I never had much and he knows I like to watch things blow up on the big screen, but I don’t have the time to go the movies. So…I got a cool projector set up from my best friend. Simple as that.”
My chest hurt at the thought of Kira not having anyone spoil her.
I’d just have to be the one to do it from here on out.
“I guess.” I tossed my phone on the hassock that doubled as a coffee table before stretching out on the long part of the couch.
She’d taken the short part of the L, and from the way she’d curled into the corner, I knew that was her spot.
I appreciated that she knew the joys of a comfortable couch and bed.
I was usually hanging off both when I went to anyone’s house, save for my relatives.
I inched my way over to her and laid my head in her lap. “What are we watching?”
She looked down at me with that little frown between her eyes again, but stretched one leg out on the chaise style cushion to let me use her lap.
I slid my arm under her silky thighs and lightly brushed my thumb along her calf then draped my other arm over the top of her legs. “I like your toe ring.”
She curled her toes as if to hide them.
I looked up at her. “I like how you shine. You shouldn’t hide it. The glitters at your neck and ears and now toes. Even the anklet. You’re like summer in a bottle.”
“Why do you say stuff like that?”
“Why do you think I shouldn’t?”
Her mouth dropped open, then snapped shut.
“Yeah, it is a good question, isn’t it?” I rubbed my beard against her leg and snuggled in. “Wine and pizza is coming.”
She tried to shift over, but I pulled her in like a pillow. “You already made us dinner.” Her voice was tight with exasperation.
“That was just an appetizer. And while I don’t mind your fruity wine, I want a red.”
She huffed out a breath. “You’re…a lot.”
“Yeah, but I’m worth it.” I took the remote from her. “What do you have on this thing?”
“I don’t watch much television.”
“But you have a sweet projector? Doubtful.”
She tugged my hair. “Fine. You got me. I like to watch Criminal Minds on the widest screen possible.”
The doorbell saved me from asking more on that one.
I sat up, but she pushed me back. “Okay, naked boy. I’ll get it.”
“I’m sure they’ve seen worse.”
She tipped up my chin. “Or maybe I don’t want them to see all of that. Think of that, smartass?”
I sat back with a grin. Nope, but I sure liked that she did.