13. Mike
MIKE
I heard a woman once say that a kiss had seared her soul. I was at university and she was sitting at another table in the cafeteria and I actually turned around to look at her, because I couldn’t believe she meant what she’d said.
She glared at me, like a feral cat, and I turned back to my lunch as her voice dropped to a whisper.
If she’d asked, I would have called bullshit. Seared your soul? I hardly think so. How could that even be possible?
I just learned differently. When Sylvia kisses me in Rupert’s greenhouse, my soul spontaneously combusts.
My reservations are incinerated, along with any hesitation.
I’d thought earlier that I could toss her over my shoulder and carry her off, but now it takes everything in me to walk along behind her.
Like we were just talking about the birds and the bees. Ha.
I am looking and no mistake about that. Her waist is so small that my hands would fit right around it.
Her ponytail is bouncing, giving me tempting glimpses of the back of her neck.
Her dress flutters around her hips, an invitation to slide my hands underneath it.
She has trim legs, muscular but not like she spends too much time in the gym.
Her feet are sticking to her flip-flops as she walks, making a delicious little sound with every step she takes.
She wants me .
And I am on fire. I clench my hands in the front pockets of my jeans, hoping they disguise an unavoidable truth, and follow her.
When we catch up to Rupert and Sierra, the older man bites back a smile, proof that he hasn’t missed a thing.
Sierra has another round of questions, and the distraction is more than welcome.
I try to think of something else. Like the fact that she didn’t go to art school after all. I won’t hate Luke for making her choose between his child and her ambitions – oh, wait, maybe I will. The irony, of course, is that if I’d known that back in the day, I might be married now.
Lauren was not enthusiastic about going to the student exhibit at the art college the first time.
The second year, when we were engaged, and she figured out why I wanted to go there, we argued in the car the whole way back to Guelph.
We broke up that night and went our separate ways.
I’ve been sad about it sometimes, but seeing Sylvia again makes me think Lauren had it right.
We spend a good hour in the greenhouse then Rupert invites us to have lemonade on the porch with him, along with some ginger snap cookies he’s made.
Sierra helps set everything out, undoubtedly exploring much of his kitchen, if not his house.
Sylvia checks her watch, reminding Sierra that she has to catch the bus in Havelock soon, and we leave reluctantly.
I give Rupert my thanks and get another hug. He tells us all to come whenever we want, and we get back in the truck. It’s Sunday, but I send a text to that greenhouse rep so that things can start to happen on Monday .
“Cool,” Sierra announces when we turn onto the road. She pivots around to wave at Rupert. “I like him.”
“Lovely man,” Sylvia adds and I’m glad they all got along.
“Do you think he’s lonely?”
“I don’t know. He has told me that he misses his wife.” Sierra peers at me, her brow furrowed in her concern for Rupert. I add a bit more. “His daughter comes for the holidays and during the summer with her kids, too.”
“But he hugs you.”
“Yeah.” I shake my head. “That took some getting used to.”
“You’re not used to it yet.”
I shake my head again.
She’s watching me intently and I have to think that very little slips past her. “Doesn’t your dad hug you?”
The idea is so absurd that I almost smile. “No.”
She seems dissatisfied with this answer but pivots to look back at Rupert’s house. I catch Sylvia’s gaze and she smiles at me, the secretive sexy little smile that makes sure I don’t forget that single word.
You .
I could heat a couple of greenhouses all winter long on my reaction to that word alone.
Sierra is busy on her phone so I just drive, savoring the smell of the wind off the lake and the cool breeze flowing through the truck.
This afternoon feels like an interval stolen in time, and despite myself, I’m already making lists of what has to be done in the greenhouses this week, as well as anticipating Dad’s reaction to my absence today.
It was totally worth it, though.
I park in front of the café, wishing this day wouldn’t end, wishing there was a way I could stay with Sylvia without sounding pushy.
“Thanks, Mike!” Sierra says, and they both get out of the truck. I’m shocked that she almost gives me a hug, but she rethinks it in the last moment and backs away. “That was good research.”
“Glad you liked it, and Rupert.”
“What happens next?”
“I’ll talk to some people about the greenhouse and report in when you’re here next weekend.”
“Okay.” Her smile is brilliant. “Thanks!” She turns toward Sylvia’s car, engrossed in her phone once again. The reception is better in Empire than at Rupert’s. I feel Sylvia come to stand beside me and don’t move a muscle. This is the part I want to go on forever.
“Do you know anyone renting out a house or apartment in town?” Sylvia asks, reminding me of Sierra’s need for space.
“Dad owns pretty much everything that’s empty in town and he doesn’t rent it out,” I say, then remember. “Wait. Luke bought the diner and some house from him. Maybe…”
She shakes her head. “That was Una’s house. Luke gave it back to her.”
And there he is again. My half-brother is completely inescapable when it comes to Sylvia. I don’t say anything, because I don’t want to sound like a jealous dick, but it would be fine if Luke stayed out of our conversations for once.
For good would be even better.
“It’s not like that,” Sylvia says, her hand falling on my arm.
I feel the softness of her fingers and smell the scent of her skin, hear her single word again, and in a way, it makes everything worse.
I meet her gaze. “It’s not like that,” I repeat, then count items off on my fingers.
“He visits your grandmother. He makes it possible for Merrie to open the café so you’ll have a job here in Empire to be with Una.
He buys the diner and Una’s house from Dad, then gives the house to Una.
He up-ends your entire life and you tell me that there’s nothing between you.
You say you want me, but every time I turn around, we’re talking about Luke. What am I supposed to think, Sylvia?”
She steps forward and places the flat of her hand on my chest. She has to feel that my heart starts to pound harder. Then she looks up at me, her eyes wide and her expression so sincere that I’d believe her if she told me the moon was made of green cheese. Those freckles just destroy me.
She speaks softly, so earnest that I believe her.
“Luke thinks he screwed up my life by taking me away from that party on prom night. He’s on a quest to make amends, but not because he’s in love with me.
He’s given me a fresh start in Empire and I appreciate that.
We might be friends, but probably more like acquaintances, and that’s just fine.
” She leans closer, her voice dropping, her eyes filled with an appeal.
“You shouldn’t make more of it than that. ”
In a way, she’s not asking for much, and in another way, it’s everything.
I know I need to trust her on this, and show her that I do.
I frown and clear my throat. “So, a place to live,” I say, feeling more purposeful with a clear objective. “Close to Una and close to work?”
Sylvia nods, then winces. “And cheap.”
“Presumably with a bathroom.”
She laughs.
The great thing is that I might have a solution.
Better, she’s still smiling at me. I can’t even breathe, much less blink. “You’re scheming something.”
“No, just an idea. Pull out your phone.” She does and I give her the name of the company. “It’s a couple in Port Cavendish. They restore and outfit vintage trailers, some with all the bells and whistles, some simpler. You maybe could park one on Una’s property. ”
Sylvia’s lips part as she studies the display on her phone and her eyes light. She must have found the website but I’m loving the chance to watch her being happy. That I might have had something to do with her mood is icing on the cake. “Mike, that’s brilliant. It might be ideal.”
“You’d have to go down and check it out…
” I say, but she’s shoving her phone back into her purse and reaching for me again.
Her hand slides around my neck as if she casually touches me all the time, then her fingers are in my hair.
I’m in knots all over again, completely lost, and she has the most wicked smile ever.
“Thanks,” she murmurs, a gleam in her eyes that drives every coherent thought from my head.
Then she kisses me on the cheek.
In a way, it’s hotter because it’s so fleeting, just a tease, not even a taste – and it leaves me burning for more when she pulls away.
We smile into each other’s eyes for a long, sweet moment, one that fills me with hope for a future together. I slide my hand up her back, unable to resist the chance to caress her.
“Tomorrow,” Sylvia whispers and my heart leaps. “The café is closed and I’ll be here painting.”
All she had to do was ask.
“Tomorrow,” I agree, not caring what I have to say or do to be with her.
Tomorrow .
I’m tempted to whistle as I leave Empire, even though I doubt there’s anything particularly special waiting for me at Cavendish Enterprises. My dad maybe, wound up about something .
My own place isn’t that much more tempting. I know there’s half a bar of dark chocolate in the fridge, but it’s been there so long that I’m skeptical of its state.
There might be a beer, but probably not.
I could head into Havelock and get something to eat, although the drive isn’t tempting.