Chapter 25
25
A midwestern coffee shop gem . ~ R I’m definitely a foodie…
…if hiking is your thing, I’m up for it, or snuggling at home is always at the top of my list, too…
… let’s get together and see if we can make this work …
A white-hot blaze of confusion coursed through her. Was Cal active on a dating site?
Peaches scurried through the door, followed by Ridley. They circled around each other near the kitchen—a frantic mixture of nails clicking on the ceramic tile and excited snuffing—until Cal came inside, closed the patio door, then set a treat box on the counter.
Ginger stood, her head swimming.
“Do you want me to top off your drink? I have a little left,” Cal asked, tossing a treat into the air for Ridley, then another for Peaches.
An excuse to leave is what she really needed, time to think this through. If he asked her what was wrong, she couldn’t explain what she’d just discovered without also calling attention to having had no business looking in the first place.
“Maybe I’ll take this to go. It’s late.” She gathered up the soaked towels and her mug, and brought them to the kitchen. The taste of Cal’s delicious hot chocolate left a bitterness on her tongue now. She glanced at him in time to catch the smile falling from his face.
“Oh, okay.” Cal’s brows dipped. “Is something…wrong?”
“Just have an early day tomorrow, like I said.” She found the garbage can, tossed the towels, and set her mug on the counter. Her coat lay over the bar stool, so she shrugged it on, careful to avoid his gaze.
Cal pulled the top from a lidded cup and filled it with her hot chocolate.
“You can keep this.” He gave her a sheepish smile. “I give them out when I have a booth at conventions.”
“Thanks.” She clamped her lips together, still feeling the sweet warmth of his mouth on hers. But, that profile …
“Let me walk you out,” he said, walking around the counter, but she put up her hand to stop him. If he tried to kiss her again, she’d be forced to turn him down, to explain why she was upset. And she couldn’t bear that.
“It’s fine. Don’t trouble yourself,” she said over her shoulder. Her hand was already on the doorknob.
“Are you sure nothing’s wrong?” he asked again.
She took a deep breath and turned toward him.
“It’s just time for me to go. This”—she waved her hand to encompass the room, the laptop, him —“might not be the best idea.”
“Ginger. What does that mean?”
The night air cooled her face when she opened the door. Her breath hitched as she fought the urge to close the door without responding. She inhaled, straining to keep her voice from wavering.
“It means it’s late and I’m tired.” She shrugged. Too much had been said already.
“ Ginger .”
She fought the tears threatening to spill until she was safely cocooned in her car. When they started flowing, blurring her vision as she pulled out of his driveway, she drove slowly until she was a few blocks away, then parked at the curb and shut off the car.
Her hands still clutched the wheel, and she rested her forehead against it and sobbed.
She’d finally let her guard down. After years of living within the airtight walls she’d built around herself, sealing the cracks when the tiniest threads of daylight tried to filter in, she’d finally thrown open the windows and breathed. Cal had knocked, and she’d answered. He was the perfect antidote to her love-hardened heart .
An oncoming car passed, its headlights washing over her. She kept her head down but swiped at the tears wetting her cheeks. She despised this show of weakness in herself, and knowing that the insecurities she thought she’d dealt with long ago still could cause so much pain.
But now her defenses were down, and look where that had led.