Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
LUKE
It was funny how the smallest decisions could profoundly change your life.
Like answering an ad in a fiber arts magazine, for example.
Or blowing a bugle with your hot, grumpy lumberjack-ish neighbor on a cold, drunken winter’s night.
Or spending an entire afternoon frotting with that grumpy neighbor after he helped you drag yourself out of a freezing cold pond and saved you from hypothermia.
Because once you made any (or all) of those tiny, slightly crazy decisions, you might find yourself living a life where your lonely Sunday morning got interrupted by two truckloads of Sundays—including that gorgeous, grumpy savior—who dragged you out of your camper wearing your baggiest jeans and rattiest sweatshirt and demanded you join them for breakfast at Panini Jack’s.
“Morning, Katey. Table for eight,” Webb said as Gage, Knox, Emma, Marco, Drew, Aiden, and I piled into Panini Jack’s after him one Sunday morning, about a week after my fall into Pond Pond.
I still wasn’t quite sure what was happening here. Why had they included me in the Sundays’ Sunday breakfast outing? Was it a friendly neighbor thing, a “we’re glad you didn’t die in our pond” thing, or a “you touched my penis and I’d like you to do it again” thing?
All of those were fine, but if asked, I’d definitely be able to state a preference for which I hoped it was.
“Eight?” Katey repeated, frowning. “But Hawk’s not with you all, and… Oh, I see.” She pursed her lips when she spotted me but grudgingly asked, “You doing alright, Luke?”
“Yeah, heard you took a nasty plunge last week.” Norm Avery turned on his stool at the counter to look me over, and his bushy mustache twitched. “Happened to me a time or two when I was younger.”
“Same,” an older lady agreed. “Not pleasant at all.”
I gave them all a bright smile. I wasn’t used to being the center of so much attention, but I didn’t want to seem rude and awkward. “True! No harm done, though. Webb took care of me. But thanks for asking.”
As well-meaning as the inquiries were, it was overwhelming to be the center of attention for the whole town. I could see the townsfolk, not to mention Webb’s family, wondering why I was the only non-Sunday there. If only I had the answer myself.
“Glad to hear it.” Norm reached over and thumped Webb on the shoulder. “Take care of yourself, because this one needs someone around to keep him in line.”
“That’s the damn truth,” Knox said wryly.
Webb gave me a look that was part amusement, part… something hotter, and my palms went damp.
I wished I could read whatever thought was running through the man’s mind.
He hadn’t seemed regretful or weird about us hooking up last weekend—on the contrary.
He’d given me a long, thorough, really promising kiss before he’d climbed back into his 4x4 to drive home across the dark orchard.
He’d texted me sweet, silly things every day since then.
He’d been his usual—well, the new usual—friendly self when he’d picked up Aiden on Thursday from spelling bee practice, shooting me a hot, sexy wink and a smile.
But…
I wanted more.
More of his warmth and his scent. More of his arms around me.
More talking, since his voice was the most soothing thing on the planet…
and also since I could not bring myself to text the actual questions I wanted to ask, like “Hey, so, was that the hottest sexy time in your personal history of sexy times, and if so, would you be amenable to repeating it?”
I knew he was busy, though. Maple sugar season had already peaked, and he’d been running tours all week, in addition to managing the orchard. I didn’t want to be demanding… but I also wanted him to know I was very, very interested.
Today, I promised myself. You’ll ask him to come over later.
Katey grabbed menus and started chatting to Em about softball tryouts—Katey, apparently, was the best pitcher the Hollow Swingers had ever had, and she wanted Em to join the team also.
But as she led us through the restaurant to a table in the back, with me at the front of the group, Alan Laroche waved me over.
“Luke! D’you see the game last night? Close call, eh?”
“Oh. Yeah. A heartbreaker of a game,” I agreed.
“Refs missed a dozen penalties against Toronto,” he said mournfully.
I sensed Webb behind me without turning around, and he spoke over my shoulder. “Wasn’t the refs’ fault. Neutral zone trap killed you.” He prodded my back and added teasingly, “Wouldn’t you say, Luke?”
I lifted my chin. “Actually, I think we would’ve been fine if we’d had our goalie back, but we just don’t have the depth on defense that we had a couple seasons ago.” I hoped I’d gotten all of that lingo right.
“True,” Alan sighed. “But we can keep hoping.” He offered me a fist, and I bumped it.
“What the hell was that?” Webb’s deep whisper curled around the nape of my neck as we walked on, making me shiver.
“That’s called… I streamed the game last night while I crocheted,” I said a little smugly, glancing over my shoulder. “And I maybe also swan dived down an internet rabbit hole of editorials for an entire afternoon. They’re my dudes, Webb. When I commit, I commit.”
“I thought I was supposed to be teaching you hockey,” he teased, and my breathing hitched.
I tried to focus, but it wasn’t easy with him that close. “I knew you were busy, and once I get obsessed with a new subject, I want to learn everything about it, so…”
“Interesting,” he purred. “I was introduced to a new subject last week, too. And I have an internet connection also.”
Could he be serious? My face heated, and I tried my best not to stammer. I failed. “I… I think we should compare notes.”
He passed in front of me, and as he did, he slid his pinky finger along the edge of my hand, where no one could see it. The sensation traveled directly to my balls. “I agree.”
Holy freaking mackerel. I was going to pop wood in the middle of a family breakfast.
No, really, parents. Despite the child misplacement, the drunken carousing, the massive hangover, the incident with the roof, and my incredibly inappropriate breakfast shenanigans, I’m incredibly trustworthy.
In desperation, I stopped at Maryanne’s table to thank her for the soup she’d sent over the day after my dunking.
I should have known I’d get sucked into a brief conversation with her and her friend Penny about the Spring Fling, but it at least helped me gather my wits before I reached the Sundays’ table.
Until I realized the only empty seat at the table was on the end, directly beside Aiden and across from Webb.
Aiden patted the chair excitedly, and I slid into it just as Katey started rattling off the specials.
“We’ve got eggs Florentine, raspberry cheesecake pancakes, and the french toast of the day is banana bread french toast. What’ll it be?”
I’d barely opened my menu when Drew started rattling off his order, quickly followed by everyone else.
I sighed. One of these days, I’d actually get to look at the menu at this place, but apparently not that day. “I-I guess I’ll have the ras—”
“The eggs,” Katey said. “Fine.” She tapped the tip of her pen against her order form and departed.
I closed my eyes briefly and huffed out a breath. It was fine. Eggs were better for me anyway.
Webb eyed me across the table. “Ask her to come back. Tell her you changed your mind.”
I shook my head. If Katey being annoyed at me was the price I had to pay for having Webb in my life, I was more than willing to pay it. Besides, I knew she’d come around.
“If you want, you can have a bite of mine,” Aiden offered. He leaned across the space between our chairs and into my side so I had to put my arm over his shoulders. “Chocolate pancakes with chocolate chips and M&Ms and peanut butter sauce.”
“Good gravy. I feel a sugar rush just thinking about it.”
He giggled, and I held him tighter. He’d been a little clingy with me all week after the pond incident but in a sweet way, sitting with me after spelling bee practice and asking me questions about my mom and what it was like growing up in North Carolina.
And his journal entry last Monday had been so good, I’d encouraged him to share it with Webb.
“Did you tell your dad about what you wrote for your assignment?” I murmured.
Aiden shook his head and blushed. “No.”
“What assignment?” Webb asked.
Katey delivered a pot of coffee, and Webb poured me a cup.
“Aiden wrote a journal entry about his favorite hero last Monday.”
“Oh… Did you pick Thor?” Webb surmised. “He’s got that hammer.”
“See?” Aiden gave me a speaking glance.
I huffed. Sundays bred true, anyway.
“No, he chose a real-life hero,” I corrected.
Aiden squirmed in his seat. “I maybe wrote about you saving Mr. Williams from the pond. How you knew just what to do and made us all feel safe. It was kinda awesome.”
I had never seen Webb look so poleaxed. Not when the mayor had read the scroll to us. Not when he’d had sex with a man for the first time last weekend.
“Wow. That’s… Thanks, Aiden. I don’t know what to say.”
“He’s a very talented writer,” I said softly. “And he sees a lot of things clearly.”
“What are we talking about here? I used to be a good writer,” Knox said, only hearing the last part of the conversation. “Wrote some poetry. Back in the day.”
“Shut it,” Webb said darkly. “Your poetry is not family-friendly.”
Knox took a sip of his coffee. “There once was a man who liked apple picking…”
Webb groaned.
Knox grinned. “Who was in need of a really deep dic—”
“Oookay.” Gage clamped a hand over Knox’s mouth as Marco and Drew snort-laughed. “I think we’ll save your poetry for later, baby.”
I covered my mouth with my hand to hide my giggle. “So, where’s Hawk this morning?” I ventured, trying to change the subject.
Webb shrugged. “Mayor York is assembling a committee to study the site plan, and Hawk signed up. He stayed home to study up.”
“Maybe you should sign up, Luke,” Marco suggested.