Chapter Twenty-Two
Cabin
Ella
Something has changed. It’s been three weeks since the poker night and Mitch hasn’t been the same. At first, I thought it had something to do with the picture I sent him. He never responded to it, and it was my first time sending something like that. But now, I’m not so sure that was the problem.
Valerie’s words that night at her home have been haunting me lately. “Mitch has a knack for wanting things he didn’t think he could have.... But let me warn you, Ella Marie. The moment the newness wears off, and the fun is over, he pulls away.”
Has my newness run out already? Has Mitch grown tired of slumming it with the divorcee? I guess it isn’t too far-fetched. Hell, the man that swore to love me till death did us part, ran for the hills. Did I expect anything less from Mitch?
I zip the last of the cookies into the storage bag. I then placed the bag, along with the container of leftover lasagna, in the tote bag. It was Friday, and the boys were heading to their father’s. In another week, school would be out, and they would be with him for the summer.
“Did you pack the bread, too?” Cameron asks as soon as he comes into the kitchen.
I clear my mind of my doubts and worries and plaster on a smile for my baby boy.
I pointed to the tote bag on the counter. “Yes, I have the garlic bread and the corn on the cob.”
When my baby begged me to send them with a home-cooked meal because his dad and Ms. Kiely never cooked, I made sure to make him something special.
“Thanks, Mama. No offense to Dad, but I’m tired of pizza and burgers.”
I cup his cheek and squeeze it.
“Do you have all your things packed?”
He nods just as the doorbell rings. Cameron turns and rushes out of the kitchen. Preparing to see my ex, I take a deep breath before grabbing the tote off the counter.
I head into the living room to find that AJ has already let his father in. Andrew is standing in my living room in a wrinkled t-shirt and basketball shorts. He looks nothing like his usual well put together self. Even his hazel eyes seem tired and lifeless.
There is a part of me that is still attuned to this man, and it makes me want to ask if everything was okay. However, I tamp down that part of me. This man does not belong to me, and whatever is bothering him is not my concern.
As I approach him, I notice his gaze follows me.
Today I’m wearing a lounge set. The soft gray t-shirt is a V - neck that shows off my cleavage but still fits loose enough to be comfortable.
The matching shorts are just as soft and are shorter than I’d be comfortable wearing outside, but they work for lounging at home.
Not once would I consider this outfit overly sexy, but the way my ex is staring at me, you’d think I was in lingerie.
AJ clears his throat, snapping his father out of whatever trance he was in.
I stop in front of them. “I was in a cooking mood, so I made pizza lasagna, homemade garlic bread, and parmesan and garlic corn on the cob. Of course I made too much, so I packed some for you guys to take with you.”
To keep the peace, I don’t mention what Cameron told me. This way makes it seem as if I just happened to send food.
“You cooked for me?” Andrew asks as he takes the tote from me.
“Um, sure. I cooked.” Not necessarily for him, but he can eat it. “Also, there are some oatmeal raisin cookies in the bag. I’m trying a new recipe, and I had some left over.”
I’m once again reminded of the weird place Mitch and I are in.
Since we started the process of leasing the building for my bakery, I’ve been tweaking some of my recipes.
In a few weeks, Mitch and I are supposed to be meeting up with Jim, the owner of the building, to sign the paperwork.
I’m not even sure if he’s still interested now.
When my thoughts clear, I blink twice as I realize at some point while I was thinking about Mitch, Andrew has grabbed my hand. I look down at our joined hands.
“You made me my favorite cookies?”
Gently, I pull my hand from his. “I was fixing the recipe, and I know you like them, so I sent you what was left over.”
He nods. “Thanks, babe. I appreciate it.”
Babe? I look at AJ, who looks just as baffled as I do.
“Alright, I’m ready to go.” Cameron comes barreling into the living room with his over-stuffed bag that I’m sure has more toys and games than actual clothes.
But I don’t care; I’m just glad for the distraction. Turning to my youngest son, I place my hands on his shoulders.
“Be on your best behavior and don’t stay up all night playing video games.” I turn to my oldest son, too. “You either.”
“I won’t.” Cameron wraps his arms around my waist and hugs me. Already his head comes up to my shoulder. By next year he will tower over me like AJ.
I hug AJ, and then both boys walk out of the house. Andrew stares at me for a moment before turning to leave too. I followed them out, stopping at the bottom of my steps. Just as we make it outside, the familiar smoke-gray pickup pulls into the driveway next door.
My gaze stays on that truck until it parks, even when the driver's door opens and those jean clad legs appear. I stare until those beautiful blue eyes land on me. For a moment, we stare at each other. The world fades. I watch and wait for a sign, for something. A smile, a smirk, hell, I’ll take a grimace.
I just need something that will explain to me why he’s been so distant.
“Are you okay?”
I turn away from Mitch. Andrew is standing in front of me. He looks from me to Mitch, who is pulling something out the back of his truck. He then turns back to me.
“Yeah. I’m fine,” I answer, folding my arms over my chest. I kick the toe of my shoe into the paved walkway.
Andrew eyes me warily before grinning.
“I’ll see you Sunday afternoon.” He spins around and walks off. I notice that not once does he speak to Mitch, even though he noticed him.
When Andrew gets to the driver’s side door of his car, he opens it but stops and looks back up at me.
“Thanks again for the cookies, babe,” he shouts.
My chest tightens and my face heats up .
“I was just fixing the recipe,” I shouted back, but Andrew didn’t hear me because he’s already in the car pulling out of the driveway.
I turn to a red face Mitch.
“I was fixing the recipe.” To ensure everyone understands, I repeat that I genuinely did not make that man cookies.
He doesn’t speak; in fact, he looks as if he wants to rip my head off.
I quickly turn and rush into the house, feeling completely embarrassed.
As soon as I get into the safety of my home, I stop and press a hand to my racing heart.
Why does it feel like I just got caught cheating?
I didn’t even do anything wrong. If we’re being honest, with the way he’s been acting lately, I’m free to do what I want.
You know what? He doesn’t get to make me feel like I’m wrong. In fact, he owes me an explanation. Spinning around, I march to my front door. The moment I swing it open, I find Mitch standing there with his fist up as if he were about to knock.
Even though I’m mad at him, my belly does that flip thing it likes to do when he’s near. And my pussy jumps like she’s excited. I imagine she is. We haven’t had sex since the poker night.
Pulling it together and burying my excitement to see him, I put an unfazed look on my face and my hands on my hips.
“So now you come to see me?”
“You baked him cookies?” He fired off his question so rapidly that there was no way he registered mine.
I scoff and roll my eyes while folding my arms across my chest. “Not that it matters, but no, I didn’t. I made some cookies, and he was lucky enough to get the leftovers.”
Mitch stares at me for a moment. His gaze drops from my face down to my breasts sitting high in my top and then to my shorts that are being eaten up by my thighs. When that gaze lands back on my face, I swear my pussy practically purrs.
“Go pack an overnight bag,” he says then turns around and heads down my steps.
“Wait,” I call out, stepping onto the porch. “Where are we going?”
He turns and looks me up and down. “Somewhere I can show you privately why you don’t bake another man cookies.” With those words, he turns around and disappears out of my yard.
Well, fuck me. I hurry into my house. I packed my bag so quickly I can only hope I have everything I need.
The ride to the cabin was quiet. I’ve always known Mitchell had this cabin by the lake, but this will be my first time out here.
Hopping down out of the truck, I take in the surrounding sights. The cabin was about half-a-mile back off the main road. It was a classic log-built cabin with a large front porch.
“Come on,” Mitch says, grabbing my hand. He walks me up the short steps to the front door.
The moment we walk into the home, I get the most serene feeling in the world. It feels as if I’ve just walked into my own secluded part of the world. The rustic cabin design from the outside leads into the house’s decorations, but that’s the only thing rustic about the inside.
It’s an open floor plan with a state-of-the-art kitchen and a wide-open living room that includes a wood-burning fireplace, and giant furry bear rug.
However, the showstopper of the place is the back wall comprised of all glass windows.
Four large panes at the bottom and four at the top that slope into a triangle shape.
Letting go of Mitch’s hand, I walk over to the windows. It’s then I discovered they aren’t just windows, they’re patio doors. And on the other side of that door is a stunning view of the most peaceful-looking lake I have ever seen.
I stand with my face pressed to the glass, gazing out at the purple and orange sky, which is broken up by the tops of trees.
His hand at my back has me turning from the view.
“This is beautiful.”
He dips his chin before sliding the door open. It’s a pocket door that slides into the last glass pane on the right.