Chapter 18 #2
Rich—probably more than she realized, because he never talked about it. He was also often unreadable and aloof.
But what she was discovering under his surface drew her to him, despite their decision to be friends and her insistence to
her mother that they were. His kind treatment of Sir, him not wanting her to camp alone, the way he helped her at the Meow
and Mingle without her asking him . . . his vulnerability in admitting a past mistake.
He turned to her and smiled. A genuine one, not the dismissive smirk from before. Her heartbeat slowed, a warm, tranquil stillness
filling her. Peace. Leo gave her peace.
“Everything okay?” he said softly.
“Yes,” she said, basking in her feelings for this incredible man. “Everything’s perfect.”
Boop.
Leo’s nose twitched. It was also cold, so he hunkered down in his bed and drifted off again.
Boop. Boop.
He half opened his eyes to morning sunlight and the blurry image of Sir Meow sitting on his chest, paw raised in the air.
“Huh?” he said, trying to get his bearings. Why was it so cold in the apartment?
Birds chirped and twittered. The chilly air smelled faintly of smoke. Slowly he realized where he was. Not his apartment or
bed, but in Fergus’s sleeping bag in the Daltons’ backyard. As he fully awakened, he smiled. Last thing he remembered was
gazing at the stars while Via told him about the constellations as they lay next to each other in their sleeping bags. He
knew about some of them, but astronomy had never been an interest of his. At some point he must have removed his glasses.
He didn’t remember where he put them.
Boop.
“Okay, okay.” He moved the cat to the side and sat up, squinting as he felt around for his glasses. They were a few inches
from his bag. He put them on. Much better. “Via?” he said, turning to where she had slept next to him. Her rolled-up sleeping
bag was in her place. How had he not heard her get up?
He shimmied out of Fergus’s bag and rubbed his arms as he slipped on his shoes and headed to the house, Sir following close
behind. Right away he noticed how refreshed he felt. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept that hard.
It helped having Via by his side all night.
After telling her about the arson, he thought he’d ruined the evening.
Nothing like admitting to a crime to set the tone of the night.
But he should have known she wouldn’t judge him.
When he’d seen the compassion in her eyes, he knew the rest of the evening would be great.
And it was. They roasted hot dogs, made s’mores, ate junk food, and talked the entire time. She talked more about how she
mustered the courage to open the café after the breakup with her ex that convinced her not to waste any more time chasing
her dreams. He told her about his hedge fund job, thinking it would completely bore her. But with her degree in business and
owning Pawsitive Vibes, she was not only interested, she contributed intelligently to the conversation. It was pleasant. Fun.
Friendly.
But there was a moment he seriously considered moving in the opposite direction of friendship–when he saw the tiny dot of
melted marshmallow on the corner of her mouth and told her about it. Watching her wipe it away had been an exercise in restraint.
Never mind the marshmallow—he wanted to taste the sweetness of her lips.
But it wasn’t just physical this time. Revealing what happened at boarding school had embarrassed him at first. It also scared
him to tell her something so personal. He wasn’t even sure why he’d done it. Seeing Constance after all these years had pried
open a wound he thought had scarred over, and even though he regained his composure, it was still stinging. Maybe that was
why he’d had the rare moment of vulnerability. To his surprise, it made him feel closer to her. A closeness he sensed in his
soul.
He refused to analyze it away or ignore it. He wanted to feel it.
After walking up the incline, he slid open the back patio door that led to the empty kitchen.
He spied a platter of donuts covered with plastic wrap, and the scent of coffee filled the room.
“Via?” he said, going to the table. Sir jumped on one of the chairs and peered over the edge.
“Don’t think these are for you, bud.” Then he saw the note next to the plate.
Went to church. Help yourself to donuts and coffee. We’ll be back around eleven thirty.
He checked his pants pocket for his phone, then remembered he left it next to Via’s bag at the campsite. He glanced around
and found the microwave. Almost eleven o’clock. He’d slept that long? Crazy.
He made a quick trip to the bathroom, then washed his hands and removed his glasses to rinse off his face. As he dried it,
he considered putting in his contacts, only to change his mind. His eyes were dry from the smoke, but that wasn’t the main
reason he kept the glasses on. Via liked them. He grinned and went back to the kitchen.
Sir was on the table sniffing at the plastic wrap. Leo grabbed him and set him on the floor. “You know better than that,”
he scolded. Once he poured some coffee and got a glazed donut, he went back outside and sat on one of the patio chairs, making
sure not to leave Sir alone with the pastries.
His house in LA was bigger than the Daltons’. Much bigger, even though he was the only one living there. But how often did
he enjoy sitting on his own patio, taking time to just be? His Pecan Corner vacation was the first and the longest he’d had
in years. Although he was working hard to fulfill Earl’s stipulations in Second Chapter, he was more relaxed than he’d ever
been in his life. Even during his childhood, everything was accomplishment driven and success based. Until now, he didn’t
know any other way to be.
The patio door opened and Via stepped outside.
He turned to see her and instantly smiled.
Her hair was up in a ponytail again and she had on maroon pants and a beige sweater.
Whether it was a subdued outfit like this one, her mismatched, colorful ensembles, or—gulp—a little black dress, it didn’t matter.
She looked beautiful in them all. “Do you need some coffee?” he asked, starting to get up.
She shook her head as she sat next to him. “I had plenty this morning.”
“Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“You were sleeping so peacefully. I almost slept too late myself. Had to rush to get ready for church.” Her eyes filled with
appreciation. “Glad you found your glasses. I wasn’t sure where to put them after you fell asleep.”
So that’s why he didn’t remember taking them off. “Thanks.” Sir appeared on the porch and went to sit at Leo’s feet. “Where
are your parents?”
“Getting takeout. Hope you like Chinese. Fergus and Dora will be here soon. I think Charlie’s coming too.”
Leo subconsciously smoothed down his hair. “I didn’t realize we were doing lunch with your family too.”
“Is that okay? We always have lunch with the whole family after church on Sundays.”
“Another Dalton tradition?”
Nodding, she sat back in the Adirondack chair and crossed her ankles. “When I was growing up, I didn’t think much about traditions.
From high school on, all I thought about was getting out on my own. Living in Pecan Corner wasn’t part of that plan. And here
I am, right back where I never thought I’d be . . .” She looked at him with another smile. “Home.”
Home. A little of his earlier happiness disappeared at the reminder. Pecan Corner was where she belonged, and in two weeks he would be heading back where he belonged, in Los Angeles. Nothing would change that.
“I should clean up the campsite,” she said, standing up, “before everyone gets here.”
He set the coffee mug on the side table by the chair. “I’ll help. And I’ll take you up on lunch. I do love a good egg roll.”
“Hector’s has the best.” She started down the patio steps.
He followed her. “A Chinese place called Hector’s?”
“Run by a guy named Patrick O’Reilly.” She chuckled. “Long story.”
He grinned. Only in Pecan Corner.