Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
W hen the doorbell rang the next morning, Estelle’s heart couldn’t help but leap in response.
“That must be Crew,” her mother said calmly, standing from the breakfast table. She paused before leaving. “Would you like to get it?”
There was a teasing tone to Emery’s voice, and Estelle looked over her shoulder with a raised eyebrow. “Stop scheming,” she told her mother.
An innocent face Estelle had seen too many times growing up looked back at her. “I would never.”
Estelle rolled her eyes, but she grabbed a towel, wiped her hands dry and walked out of the kitchen, choosing to ignore her mother’s laughter. Something had shifted between her and Crew yesterday, and Estelle was still trying to come to grips with it. The same way she was still trying to come to grips with the fact that she had yelled at her injured brother and their relationship might never heal.
Crew had been right. A walk on the beach had done wonders for Estelle’s emotional capacity, and she felt much better after coming back to the house. Of course, walking hand in hand with someone as handsome and gentle as Crew had gone a long way as well.
But Estelle’s apology last night had been met with stony silence, and Estelle had cried herself to sleep over it.
She hadn’t meant to explode, but Crew had become her lifeline in a very stormy sea right now and having Antony say what he’d said had been too much for her.
Estelle tried to swallow her anticipation and keep her heart from jumping straight out of her chest, but considering the smirk on Crew’s face when she opened the door…she guessed she hadn’t done a very good job of it.
They looked at each other, the moment heavy and thick before Crew finally whispered, “Hey.”
Estelle’s laughter broke the tension between them. “Hey, yourself,” she responded. Funny how that little word, said awkwardly in greeting, had become an inside joke between them.
Was this what it was to fall for someone? To find tiny things humorous and create little secret bonds that meant nothing to anyone but themselves?
Estelle’s heart beat even harder. “What does little Layla think of you leaving every day?”
Crew shrugged, looking suddenly boyish instead of a confident adult male. “I played with her the whole evening, and we made breakfast together.”
Estelle’s humor fell a little. “I’m sorry we scared her with…with my dad.”
Crew shook his head. “She wanted to come again, but I’m the one who stopped it. I think she’d be fine seeing your dad again. She didn’t like the idea of him being in pain. But she’s smart and resilient. She’d adjust.” He shuffled his feet. “I just thought it would be easier today to not add to your stress load.” His eyes hit hers from under thick lashes. “How’s Antony?”
Estelle sighed and stepped sideways so Crew could come in. “He’s…Antony. ”
“Would you like me to talk to him?”
“And tell him what?” Estelle asked. “He’s unwilling to listen to anyone.” She closed the door just as warm fingers pulled her chin around. Crew studied her face.
“You were crying last night.”
Estelle’s eyes widened. She’d thought all the redness and puffiness were gone this morning. If she’d known Crew would be able to tell, she would have spent more time on her makeup.
His thumb caressed her cheekbone. “Did he say something else hurtful?”
Estelle shook her head quickly. “No. He didn’t speak at all.”
Crew nodded and dropped his hand. “What can I do to help then? Has your dad had breakfast yet?”
Estelle gratefully dropped the topic of her brother. She had no idea how that was ever going to be resolved and didn’t have the capacity right now to worry about it. “He hasn’t. If you’d like to help, I’m sure my mother would appreciate it.”
A half hour later, Crew and Estelle came out from the bedroom, leaving Estelle’s father and mother alone for a while. Both were planning to take naps, and Estelle wrung her hands as she thought of what came next.
“I’ll take it up,” Crew offered, somehow knowing that Estelle’s next chore was taking care of Antony.
“It’s okay,” she assured him. “I’m capable.”
“I know you’re capable,” Crew said with a smile, stepping close enough to gently take the tray from her hands. “But sometimes it’s nice to let someone else take the load anyway.”
“I really should go talk to him,” Estelle whispered. She gasped when Crew left a soft kiss on her forehead.
“Sit. Breathe. Take a break. I promise not to start a brawl, okay?”
“I never thought you would,” Estelle said breathlessly, not even caring that her voice gave away her emotions.
With a quick wink, Crew marched up the steps, looking so confident that Estelle couldn’t help but admire his courage.
For several minutes, she waited, too frightened to move. She wasn’t even quite sure what she was expecting. Yelling, screaming, pounding, maybe a few dishes hitting the wall? But when nothing filtered down the steps, her shoulders finally dropped, and Estelle relaxed enough to breathe easily.
Turning, she looked at the sink full of dirty dishes, and her heart sank. She was so tired of work. Tired of being on call all day. Tired of never getting a good night’s sleep. Tired of watching all her efforts be worthless as her father continued to decline and her brother refused to heal.
Every piece of her, from the follicles of her hair to the tips of her toenails, felt weary and for once, she didn’t have the energy to push her famous self discipline to work.
With a sudden surge of stubbornness, she walked straight out of the kitchen, grabbed her notebook from the computer desk, and marched to the couch, plopping down and slumping in the most unladylike position she could find.
Flipping the book open, she resolved that for at least five minutes, she was going to ignore the dishes and the kitchen and the bathrooms and the carpet and everything else in the house that required her attention, and she was going to let her creativity loose.
Brielle’s cake was mostly finished, but there was still one cake on Estelle’s docket that hadn’t been designed yet and it was coming up rather quickly. So for once, just this once…Estelle was going to let her imagination work for an almost seven-year-old, instead of keeping it firmly planted in the world of adults and responsibilities.
After everything that had happened in the last couple of days, Layla deserved something magnificent, and Estelle was going to help Crew give it to her.
Crew stepped out of Antony’s room with a sigh of relief, but also a feeling of pity that he was struggling to set aside. The man was hurt, in more ways than one, and it was going to be a long road to recovery. However, Crew felt a little more confident that Antony wasn’t going to continue to abuse Estelle as she did her best to take care of her brother.
Her shouts yesterday had hit deep, and Crew had a feeling it would eventually be a good thing, but Antony was still fighting himself and it would be a while before he got past that.
The kitchen was empty and the house was quiet when Crew arrived back downstairs, and he was surprised to see a sink full of dishes. Estelle was usually constantly jumping from one project to the next, and she hated to leave things undone.
Frowning, he walked toward the family room and saw her head over the back of the couch. It tilted from side to side, making him wonder if she had fallen asleep, but when a thoughtful noise reached his ears, he decided it was safe to speak.
Walking up behind her, he bent over slowly, bringing his mouth to her ear. “Whatcha doing?” he whispered, grinning when she squealed and jumped.
“Crew Turley!” Estelle threw her pencil at him, and Crew dodged it with a laugh. “That wasn’t nice.”
Picking up the pencil, he walked around the couch, handed it to her and sat down, a little closer than was probably completely appropriate. He’d made his intentions known yesterday and Estelle hadn’t bothered to kick him out, so he was going to keep pushing and right now, they were alone, which made it the perfect time to cozy up.
“You didn’t answer my question,” he reminded her.
Estelle gave him a mock glare. “You scared the answer right out of me.”
Crew’s smile grew.
Huffing, Estelle settled back into the couch. “If you must know, I was designing Layla’s birthday cake.”
Crew’s eyebrows shot up. “Yeah? Can I see?”
She handed him the notepad.
Crew studied the pictures. There was a bear cake, a unicorn cake, a fancy cake with a ballerina figurine up top and a few other half done sketches. “Wow,” he said, turning the page to catch them all. “You did these in just a few minutes?”
Estelle shrugged. “I wasn’t sure exactly what she liked.” Pointing to the paper, Estelle explained, “The unicorn cake isn’t my design. It’s been popular for several years online. I based the bear one off the unicorn, so it really would be pretty easy. The ballerina one I used some of my wedding techniques, but instead of a bride and groom, we can put a little girl on top. It doesn’t have to be a ballerina. It could be anything, and we could just adjust the colors to match.”
Pride welled up in Crew’s chest, and he turned to Estelle. She looked young, like a little girl desperate for approval, and Crew’s heart whacked his ribcage, as if wanting to leap straight into her hands. He’d been interested when he’d seen her again and intrigued as he’d seen all she was capable of. But this tiny moment where she was using her skills to build Layla’s birthday cake felt different.
Crew had been wanting to give this attraction a chance, but right here, right now, he was beginning to realize that this was deeper than attraction. In fact, it was deeper than anything he’d ever felt with another woman at all.
Maybe it was Estelle’s kindness, her never ending desire to help or her tireless work at keeping her family together, but whatever it was, the fact that an exhausted, overstressed and underpaid woman was truly taking the time to not just bake a cake for Crew’s niece, but was willing to study and work to make it just right when Layla would probably just be happy it was edible…was more than Crew could handle.
Just like at the door, the air between them grew thick, and Crew’s chest heaved with emotion. His hand was shaky as he reached out and cupped Estelle’s pale cheek. He couldn’t have stopped his thumb if he tried, and Crew let it run along the soft skin of her cheek, noting how her eyes flared at his touch.
She felt it too. There was no doubt that Estelle felt the pull between them, and she hadn’t run him out the door with a wooden spoon when he’d said he was interested in giving them a chance.
Slowly, he leaned forward, studying her body for any movement that would tell him she didn’t want this. With each millimeter, his heart pounded harder, and Crew felt like a bomb, ready to detonate.
But he forced himself to slow down, knowing that anticipation would only make the moment sweeter. “Have I told you how amazing you are?” he whispered, his voice unconsciously low and raspy.
Estelle’s golden eyes darted back and forth between his, pleading, begging, and urging, all in one. “Not today,” she whispered, her voice so breathless he barely heard her.
One side of his mouth pulled up just as their noses brushed. He closed his eyes at the slight contact. Why had he been such an idiot all those years ago? How had he walked away from something like this?
Opening his mouth to offer Estelle one last line before he kept them from talking at all, Crew jerked upright, dropping his hand like a kid caught in the cookie jar when he heard a door slam upstairs.
Estelle’s eyes were wide as she automatically looked at the ceiling, then groaned and fell back against the couch, her breathing fast, as if she’d run a race through the neighborhood.
A stomp followed by a more natural step began to make its way down the hall, and Crew hopped to his feet. Clearing his throat, Crew rubbed the back of his hot neck. “I think Antony has decided to grace us with his presence.”
Estelle watched him, her lips pinched together as she nodded.
Chuckling, Crew shook his head. “Your brother has become a real party pooper.”
The joke worked, and Estelle relaxed into the couch. “You can say that again.” Closing her eyes and sighing heavily, she began to stand. “He’ll need help with the stairs.”
“I got it.” Crew needed to walk away for a minute. Everything in him was still eager to grab Estelle and finally have the taste he’d just been denied. She was so enticing, even with no makeup on and her hair in a braid hanging over her shoulder. She was definitely dressed for comfort and efficiency over impressing him, and Crew loved it.
When a clomp hit the stairs, he turned to run. “You just keep working on that cake. Layla loves cats most of all.” Without another word, he turned and rushed the stairs.
“I got it,” Antony growled from the top. He had his good hand on the stair railing, with his burned hand holding the crutch and all the weight on his one leg.
“I believe you,” Crew said from the bottom of the stairs. “But your sister will skin me alive if I don’t keep an eye on you.” He walked up a few steps, just to be closer in case of an accident, but he wasn’t going to push help on the ex-military man. Some pride was necessary for survival.
“My sister can take a hike,” Antony muttered.
“If I thought I could get her to go on one,” Crew muttered, “believe me, I’d do it.”
Antony paused and glared half-heartedly at Crew. “You meant what you said this morning.”
It wasn’t a question, but Crew nodded anyway. “I did.”
Growling, Antony closed his eyes and rubbed his burned hand over his face with a groan. “Is my dad awake?”
Crew shrugged. “Not sure. Your parents were thinking about taking a nap.”
Antony made a face.
“But if you come down, you can help Estelle decide on a design for Layla’s birthday cake.”
“Who’s Layla?” Antony asked, his dark brows scrunched together.
“Sorry.” Crew closed his eyes for a second and shook his head. “I forget you’ve been gone. Mason and Harper adopted my niece, Layla. It’s her birthday next week.”
“Got it.” Antony stomped down a couple more steps. “Bring on the balloons.” He grunted as he worked. “I always was a party man.”