Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Alder
The movers had arrived at Daisy’s rental after our morning appointment at the courthouse.
Appointment. My wedding band was back on my finger. As the supervisor of the moving crew outlined the final contract I had to sign to say job well done, I fiddled with the ring, twisting it from side to side with my thumb. So damn familiar, yet so different.
I signed the papers and gave them a big tip even though they hadn’t had much to move. The movers from Billings weren’t showing up with my things until later this evening.
Daisy hadn’t had much furniture, and her pile of boxes was minimal, but then she’d already moved once in the last few months when she’d left Jason.
The thought of Daisy leaving cracked open the crater in my chest, and fear welled out. Panic that she’d do it again. I had been easy for her to leave the first time, despite our history together. High school sweethearts. Inseparable. Then she’d been gone. I wasn’t that man anymore. If nothing else came from this scenario, she’d know that.
She wandered into the kitchen where I stood by the stack of boxes, nervously tugging at the sleeves of her sweater. Her gaze dropped to my ring and slipped away.
Yeah. I was feeling the weirdness too. I was also still feeling the touch of her lips on mine. The same sweet flavor that was her, only richer. We were older. No longer young adults, we now had a history that didn’t include the other.
My heart twisted. So many damn years lost because I’d been selfish and stubborn.
But I had her again. I’d learn about this version of Daisy, and maybe I wouldn’t fuck everything up this time. “Where do you want me to start unpacking?”
“Oh, um…” She folded her arms and scanned the kitchen. Then she wandered into the living room. “It’s like a different house.”
“Yeah.” Just like her and me, this house had a history that didn’t include us. One of the previous renters had painted accent walls. A light cream covered three of the living room walls, and then a taupe where the couch would’ve been. In one bedroom, the same cream was on every wall except one light blue one. In the main bedroom, the one my parents used to share, there was a deep purple wall.
The bathrooms were wallpapered—poorly. None of the closets had been painted and opening the doors to them showed the age of the place. Some holes in the walls gaped open, likely from the most recent renters. Aunt Linda and Darren must not have gotten to it.
The carpets in the bedroom should be replaced, and the hardwood in the rest of the house needed TLC. The kitchen was in a different century. That hadn’t changed much since I’d lived here, just the appliances.
“Laila’s room should be done first.” Daisy wandered down the hall. I started following her, but she turned. “I can work on that if you want to do the kitchen.”
The message was clear. We weren’t working in the same room together. No idle chitchat. No getting to know each other. No close proximity. This was a big house, and she meant to keep that distance.
“Okay.” I had a year. Besides, she’d want to break for dinner. We’d only grabbed a quick bite at the cafe downtown with Lily and Eliot after our wedding. I had owed them at least a meal for being our witnesses.
As I unpacked boxes in the kitchen, I made a mental note of everything we’d need. The contact paper in the drawers and cupboards was either peeling or worn through. I ran the dishwasher with only cleaner because it stunk. The stove needed a better wipe-down and so did all the cabinets while I was at it.
An hour later, I had my sleeves rolled up and was elbow-deep in the corner cabinet, when I sensed a timid presence behind me. I’d always been able to tell when Daisy was in the room. Once upon a time, I’d taken it for granted. Never again.
I eased out of the cupboard, pulling an old packet of ranch dressing out with me.
Daisy kicked a pale brow up when she saw what I held. “That’s probably the only food in the house.” Her expression turned sheepish. “I came in here thinking I could make a quick snack.”
I opened the fridge. All of her old condiments were now stored inside, but she had pared down her food to a point where she didn’t have any. “We should grab some groceries.”
Wariness entered her gaze. “I can go. Don’t you have to wait for the movers part deux?”
“They’re going to call when they’re an hour out. Want me to drive?”
Her lips pursed. “I can get the groceries. You paid for the movers.”
As if the cost dented my bank account. I made a lot more than her, had received more than a few bonuses, and with this new job, I’d earn even more. “I need a break.” I didn’t.
“Okay, then I can keep?—”
“But I don’t know what Laila likes.”
She gave me a flat look. “We don’t have to shop for groceries together.”
I wanted to. “It’s easier and faster. We could’ve been there by now.”
She relented, spinning away. I smiled but dropped it before she could see. Logic for the win.
We got on our coats and loaded up in the pickup. I didn’t open the door for her, or she might get more skittish and decide to stay home.
Home. This house was my home, and it was Daisy’s. But it wasn’t our home. Not yet.
Daisy
Awareness crawled over my skin. People weren’t really watching me and Alder like I thought they were. Yet when I glanced at the registers, the two women working were muttering to each other and looking our way.
Alder held two packs of steaks. “You said Laila likes beef, Daisy?”
I took my attention off the employees who spotted the ring on my hand. I tucked it into my coat pocket. “Yeah. She likes beef just fine.”
He tossed both into the cart. He discreetly looked toward the registers and hurt filtered through his expression. “Just a few more things and we can go. But if you want to wait in the pickup, I can ring it all up.”
Guilt teased the corners of my brain. I was acting like I was embarrassed to be seen with him. I wasn’t. I was self-conscious about what it meant, what people would think. Those who knew me also knew I had just ended things with Jason. Now here I was, wearing a wedding ring and being seen with a new man.
Word would spread soon enough through those who cared. I had remarried my ex. They’d fill in the blanks with what happened between me and Jason and then me and Alder. Some might even understand. And I’d have to just let them think what they wanted. A little messiness would help sell this relationship.
“No. I don’t need to wait in the truck,” I said. Besides, other people would take my attention off how achingly familiar it was to shop for groceries with Alder again. He still preferred sourdough bread, drank whole milk, got a small container of chocolate milk, and balanced his oranges in his hand to determine if they were heavy for their size. And now he was thinking of Laila as he shopped.
“Alder?” a woman said from behind me. “Daisy?”
Shock passed through Alder’s gaze and he met mine. “Aunt Linda,” he crooned. “How are you doing?”
I gave him a seriously? stare and turned. “Hi, Linda.”
I’d passed Linda and her husband a few times in town. We’d shared tight smiles and had continued on our way. But I was part of the family again.
“Nice to see you again, Daisy.” She glanced between us, the puff on the top of her stocking hat bouncing. She was swaddled in a thick coat with rubber-toed boots on her feet. They were similar to the pair I was wearing. “You got in the house okay?”
Alder grinned and closed the distance between us, wrapping his arm around my waist. “We did. We’re between movers.”
“The ceremony?” Her smile was faint. I had always liked Linda and her mellowness. “It went well?”
We hadn’t invited anyone other than witnesses. Alder told his parents that this was so new, and being a second wedding, we didn’t want to deal with any awkwardness. He’d also admitted we were moving quickly since the house was open. A little truth to add to the believability.
I hadn’t been with him for the phone call, but I’d died inside the entire time I knew he’d been talking to them.
“It was great,” Alder said, “but then we’ve had practice.”
A nervous laugh burst out of me. “That’s for sure.”
“Like riding a bike, only this time I won’t push her off.” He squeezed me to him. A solid wall of heat that our thick winter coats couldn’t block.
“I’m happy for you two.” The corners of Linda’s eyes crinkled. “I think Mom’s trusts are doing what she wanted and bringing all of you home.” Her smile was remorseful. “I just wish she went about it differently.”
My heart went out to her. She had to look after all the properties and the renters. A job she hadn’t asked for. Then she had six nieces and nephews who were faced with getting married when they hadn’t planned to. She was smart enough to know we’d rushed to get the house. Beyond that though, she looked at us as if she was happy to see us together again. As if she was relieved Alder and I had reconnected.
“Grandma had her own opinions,” Alder said, “but she always loved Daisy. I know she’s glad we’re back together.”
I blinked up at him. He’d spoken about her, about us, so easily. I could almost believe this was real between us. It’d be so easy if I weren’t careful.
“Let me know if you need anything with the house.” Linda gave us one last smile and walked away.
Alder didn’t release me. Instead, I stayed tucked into his side through the meat aisle.
“Just a little longer,” he said under his breath.
“I understand.” I wouldn’t admit to liking how solid he was next to me. Or that I couldn’t bring myself to care who saw. We were selling this, and it was what we had to do. A little PDA was necessary.
Groceries were purchased and put away, and I had made myself a sandwich. So had Alder. He’d suggested some meals, but cooking with my husband was firmly in the danger zone. I’d start remembering how he used to come up behind me when I was at the counter chopping vegetables and washing dishes. He’d wrapped his arms around me, brushed my hair aside, and kissed the nape of my neck. Sometimes, he’d spin me around and lift me to the counter. And then we’d indulge our lust.
Yeah. Those memories. I did not need to be recalling them at all.
Laila’s room was situated. Her bed and furniture were in place. She would not like the blue wall, just like I did not want a purple one. Alder’s room upstairs had two navy-blue walls. I shuddered. Dark colors in the dead of winter. Ish.
I was in my room. Bedtime was approaching, and I was under the same roof as Alder.
Nerves fluttered through my belly. The first time we were married I’d been so excited for the wedding night. We had decided not to live together until we tied the knot. I had insisted we not go on our honeymoon right away but instead spend our first night in our new apartment. It’d been heaven.
Until school and work and the responsible, driven boy I had fallen for turned into a slug who couldn’t respect me enough to preheat the oven when I called after I was done with school.
That slug dressed a hell of a lot nicer now. His wardrobe had to cost more than my annual salary. I’d seen the movers walk in with suits, still sharply pressed, on hangers.
That slug had also unpacked every kitchen box while cleaning the damn cabinets and fridge, and he’d gotten his—expensive—furniture arranged in the living room. The place looked like we’d been living here for months instead of hours.
I pushed my hair off my face, some strands had escaped the small clips, and went to the living room.
Alder wandered into the room. He’d washed the dishes. All two plates and glasses.
This was not the man I had divorced.
He had his hands stuffed into his jeans as he scanned the room from corner to corner, his face expressionless. Several times today, I wished he was back in his suit. Then I couldn’t tell how powerful his legs looked.
The walls were a different color but flashes of a young Alder streamed through my head. When I used to sit on the island and he’d get me water. How he’d hang out in this very doorway and just smile at me. The way he’d grin at me when I walked through the front door.
I knew all too well how that faded. How it had turned to eye rolls. To snarky comments and terse words about laying off him. To quit nagging. How he’d rather spend his evenings with the guys instead of me.
The weakly mended break in my heart threatened to crack open. “I’m, uh, heading to bed. Thanks again for giving us the main level.”
His expression remained impassive. “I only need one room. There are two more upstairs. Does Laila need a playroom?”
There weren’t enough toys for a playroom. I had taken half, and I had left the other half for Jason when I moved out. “Maybe after Christmas when Mom showers her with gifts that have a million parts.”
The corner of his mouth lifted, but a flash of sadness sparked in his eyes. “You work tomorrow, right?”
“Yes, boss.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled, and dammit, he had no business looking that good. “I’m not your boss yet.”
He was going to be home for a little over a month before he started at the beginning of the new year. The old Alder would’ve stayed on the couch and gamed all day, then gone out at night with his buddies. “What do you plan to do?”
“I’ll keep busy,” he said as if he was promising me.
I shrugged like it didn’t matter, and really, it didn’t. We were roommates. I hoped he cleaned up after himself, but if he didn’t, I wouldn’t take it personally. Not like before.
“The house needs a lot of work,” he said. “I’ll grab some paint tomorrow.”
An image of a teen Alder with his hat backward painting the barn with his dad and brother, Jasper, flashed into my head. The way he had laughed with Jasper and argued with his dad about getting the job done. My young heart hadn’t been prepared. I might be older but it was a good thing I would be at work all day.
“It’s your house. Or it will be.”
His look intensified as he studied me. I was tempted to tell him I was picking Laila up most days after work, unless Jason was getting her, so I’d be home later than my shift—if he even knew what my hours were. I resisted. We weren’t a couple, and he didn’t need to know my business. Yet I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from chattering about my plans.
He finally dipped his head. “Good night, Daisy.” Then he turned and disappeared into the kitchen.
The sense of loss that weighed on my chest made it hard to breathe. This was exactly what I thought I would have one day. Alder as my husband. A kid. This house. I had everything I had lost.
I could cry at the irony. “Good night, Alder,” I whispered.