14. Reed
reed
That’s got to be one of the worst night’s sleep I’ve had in years.
Every time I’d try to stretch out or roll, I’d wake up and remember I was on a couch not meant for sleeping.
I’m used to pitch black nights out in the cabin, and there’s enough ambient light in Rose’s living room to rival a stadium concert.
At a guess, I got a max of four hours of sleep last night.
I don’t regret it for a second.
Rose needed me, even if she didn’t want to admit it.
I broke several traffic laws on my way to get to her, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat.
I don’t care if it was only to scare off raccoons having a fiesta on her back porch.
No matter the cause, if she’s frightened, I want to be the one to make sure nothing can touch her.
I want to be the one to tell her everything’s handled.
I want to be the one holding her close, soothing her worries away.
Maybe protective is the right word, after all.
Still, I’ve got a crick in my neck, my shoulders are stiff, and my legs ache from being cramped up all night. And why are my feet so hot?
I open my eyes to find a white-and-gray ball of fur lying across my feet. He’s already staring at me, which feels like a bad omen. He watches unblinking, staying curled up on me, making sure I know I’m not allowed to move.
It’s unnerving.
“Morning, cat.”
Beyond him, I spot Rose in the kitchen. She turns at the sound of my voice, her face lighting up like the first rays of sunshine over a mountain peak. I sit as if pulled closer to her by an invisible force.
Or it could be an entirely visible one. Today, she’s wearing casual khaki pants cropped above her ankles and a floral, short-sleeved blouse.
Her hair is in a more elaborate braid than usual, the dark strands glowing in the morning light like they’re threaded with golden topaz.
She looks relaxed and so entirely her, my chest aches with longing.
Might have been a terrible night’s sleep, but the views this morning are worth it.
The scent of waffles fills the air, which probably doesn’t help my situation. The smell of delicious food and Rose looking like that? I don’t stand a chance.
I rake my hands through my hair, then smooth them down my shirt.
Doesn’t seem right to be this disheveled when she’s gliding closer like a goddess.
It takes my groggy mind a second to realize she’s walking slowly so she doesn’t scare the cat, not to fry my brain with her slow-motion approach.
She’s probably sparing me the scratches I’d earn if the cat got spooked and used me as a launchpad.
“This isn’t fair, you know.” She aims a pointed look at the cat, who is now sitting between my feet, front paws on one, tail twitching over the other. “He’s supposed to be my cuddle bug.”
“Maybe cuddle bug isn’t his style.” I would like to volunteer to fill that role.
She slowly reaches out a hand, but the cat’s ears drop, and he hunches his shoulders. She pulls back, unwilling to push him too far. He stays in his protective stance, letting out a brief, low growl. This guy has no clue what he’s rejecting.
Rose sighs but smiles as if him snubbing her is adorable. “Maybe grump attracts grump.” Her gaze lifts to mine. “Thank you for staying.”
I fight the urge to tell her I’d stay any night she wants me. “Did it help?”
Her relaxed expression melts something deep in my chest. “Yes. Did you sleep okay?”
“Well enough.” I stretch my neck from side to side, trying to loosen the kinks.
She frowns at me, a look I’m not used to seeing from her. “No, you didn’t. Next time, you’ll sleep in my bed.”
I might sit up a little straighter at that.
She closes her eyes for a second, shaking her head. “I meant the bed. The other bed. Obviously. Not that you’d be sleeping with me.”
Her cheeks tint pink to match her name. I’m fully awake now. I only have to gaze up at her, one eyebrow raised, to get her going again.
“You would be in the guest room. We would be in two totally separate beds. Different rooms, across the hall. Not together. Duh.”
“‘Duh’ is harsh.” She could at least leave me a shred of hope.
“I’m just saying, I have two perfectly comfortable beds. You don’t have to sleep on the couch again. Not that you would need to in the first place, that’s crazy. But if you ever do, you’ll sleep in the other bed. Not mine.” She’s babbling now, her cheeks burning, and I can’t get enough.
I scrub one hand over my beard as if I’m contemplating this. “How many beds are there again?”
She pauses her rambling, shifting closer like she needs to see me better. “Wait. Wait. This is what coaxes a smile out of you? My awkward word-vomit?”
I can only take so much. It’s just before six a.m., I’m sleep-deprived, she’s inadvertently seducing me with waffles and looking delectable in today’s work outfit. Yeah. I might be smiling.
I shrug. “You’re cute.”
She snaps her mouth shut, examining me as if searching for the lie. After a minute, her skepticism disappears, even if she still tries to hide her pleasure. “It’s not a full grin yet, though. Maybe you’d like me to be even more awkward?”
“You have no idea.”
She releases a laugh as if that was the punchline to a joke and not the honest truth.
“I’ve got breakfast just about ready. The bathroom’s around the corner. I put a spare toothbrush and toothpaste in there if you want it.” She moves into the kitchen to check on the steaming waffle iron, leaving me wondering just how much truth I’m willing to give her.
I abandon the cat to the couch and wash up in the bathroom. When I come back out, Rose has waffles plated up on the table along with fresh strawberries and blueberries, and a little bowl of powdered sugar.
“You didn’t have to do all this.” I’d hate to think she feels she owes me anything. I shouldn’t accept this elaborate “thank you.” Even if my taste buds would revolt if I walked away right now.
“I’m not a morning person, but I am a breakfast person.” She ignores my hesitation, taking one of the chairs and serving herself a golden waffle. She spoons fruit on top and adds a dash of sugar. Her creation looks even better than the breakfast platter at the diner.
I can’t help but follow suit—the warm, vanilla scent is impossible to resist. So is she.
Rose will be leaving soon to open the coffee shop with Troy, and I need to go home to take a shower before my shift starts. But there’s nothing hurried about our breakfast together. Heaven help me, it’s cozy.
It’s a softer moment than I should let myself experience with her. It gets me thinking about the possibility of more mornings like this. What it would be like to see her before she’s done up and ready for work. Wondering what her first sleepy smile of the day looks like.
But if I start dreaming up those kinds of gauzy scenarios, I’ll get greedy for them. And I know already the clock’s ticking down on this pretend relationship.
“I think somebody has a crush.”
Caught staring at Rose’s mouth, I refocus on her eyes. Their rich, cornflower blue is alight with humor and a touch of fondness. But thankfully, they’re not watching me. She tips her head to the side.
I swivel to follow where she’s indicating. The cat’s sitting about ten feet away, watching me with his hypnotic blue gaze. Seems like a normal cat would come closer, begging for pets or meowing for some food. This one just stares. He’s kind of a creepy little dude.
“He likes you.” She says it as if that’s the only natural conclusion.
“Feels more like a threat.” One wrong move, and he’ll show me his claws.
“He almost never comes out for me. When he does, I try to get close to him, and he just runs away.”
“Maybe you’re trying too hard.” I turn back to Rose in time to catch her wince.
“Probably.” She drops her gaze to her plate, suddenly interested in getting her waffle cut into just the right size pieces.
I didn’t mean it as broader commentary on her, but I can see how she might take it that way.
She tries harder than anybody. She consistently puts in more work than is required, completing tasks in the shop I would have overlooked.
If going the extra mile to keep customers coming back for more had a name, it’d be Rose.
I bet everyone in her life gets the same level of dedication and effort. Family, friends…boyfriends.
Who’s giving her that kind of effort back? From what I can see, nobody is.
“Maybe it’s like you said,” I tell her before I can work myself into a sour mood. “Maybe grump attracts grump.”
“You really think so?” She’s hopeful but not completely reeled in.
“Sure. Maybe he doesn’t know how to trust that someone offering him love won’t take it away again. Maybe I’m safe to him because I’m not interested, so there’s less for him to lose.”
I don’t know if cats have that much cognitive ability, to be honest. If that animal had any sense, it would constantly be at Rose’s feet, soaking up every ounce of love she’s willing to give it.
“Oh. So I’m dangerous because I could love him too much, and he’ll be hurt when that love is gone?
” She manages to look completely guileless even when she’s gently prodding a freshly awakened bear with a very sharp stick.
“He acts like a grump because he’s afraid to let people in?
But somewhere down deep, he just wants to be loved? ”
I give her a slow blink to rival the cat’s intense looks. “Could be.”
“Which Reed are we talking about again?” The teasing curl along her mouth sets my blood to simmer. Her sweetness makes me want to cocoon her in my arms and never let her go. But her sassy side makes me want to kiss her until her braid’s come undone and we’re both out of breath.
I swallow those desires down. “I thought we agreed to change his name.”
“We did. Nothing’s stuck yet.” She turns to address the cat. “Isn’t that right, Sweetums? Prince Fluffybutt? Mr. Porkchop?”
A flurry of sound behind me, and Rose’s shoulders sagging are enough to tell me the cat took off.
“We’re regressing now.” She sounds so forlorn, I want to scoop her into my lap and reassure her that the cat will eventually come around.
Actually, if she were in my lap, the cat would not be on my mind.
“I’m trying everything I can think of,” she says.
“Then don’t try. Let him come to you when he’s ready.”
She splays a hand over my shoulder. “I was only talking to him just now.”
“With a sweet voice, trying to draw him in with your flirting.” Seriously, what’s wrong with that animal? Rose cooing at me would instantly erode every last one of my defenses.
She narrows her eyes on me, calculating. “So I should be more like you? Burly, frowning, and indifferent to him?”
“Burly?” I have no clue if that’s good or bad.
She pops a bite of waffle into her mouth, suppressing laughter.
“Are you going to give me grump lessons?” she asks after a minute. “Because I don’t think Sunshine is ready for two of you.”
“It isn’t. But we’re not going to create a monster. Just grump you up enough for him to relax around you.”
“I’m willing to try anything.”
I level her with a stern look.
She sits straighter and puts on her best Reed-face. Her eyebrows knit together and her mouth tugs down into a fake frown. It makes her look more petulant than angry, but it’s a step in the grouchy direction. She’s still the most adorable woman I’ve ever seen.
“I mean, I won’t try,” she says.
“That’s the spirit.”