Chapter 2 #3
Shifting gears, she turns back to Ronan. “So. You’re helping my mom put up the lights? That’s good. I bet, since you’re taller, you’ll be better at it.”
Ronan’s mouth twitches. He sucks in one cheek again. “I don’t know if being taller means I’ll do a better job. But I was driving by, and I—”
“Why are you putting up the lights?” Haley interrupts. “Is that something Green Mountain Guardians is doing now?”
“Haley.” I rest my hand on her shoulder. “What have I said about interrupting people?”
Her expression turns sheepish. “Not to do it.”
“Right.”
She looks at Ronan. “Sorry. Sometimes I get talking and it’s hard to stop.”
Ronan gives up on hiding his smile and chuckles.
“That’s okay. I know plenty of people like that.
” He pauses. “To answer your question, no, it’s not something GMG does.
But I was driving by, and I saw your mom putting up the lights, and I thought…
that looks like fun. I haven’t done it myself in a long time, you know.
So I asked if it might be okay for me to help. ”
It’s not quite the truth. But I appreciate Ronan’s spin on it.
Haley regards Ronan for a few seconds before nodding. “It does look like fun. Do you need any help?”
“I think going up on the ladder is a one-person job,” I answer quickly. “But maybe, once you put your backpack inside”—I glance pointedly at her discarded backpack—“you could get Ronan some cookies.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Ronan protests.
“Oh, you should have some of Mom’s cookies,” Haley says. “They’re really yummy. When I bring them in for class parties, they always get eaten first. All of them. Not like the yucky vegetable cookies that Jackie’s mom makes.”
Ronan has that trying not to laugh look on his face again.
“Let’s not talk about the cookies Jackie brings to class like that,” I tell Haley. “I know we’re just talking at home, but what if you forgot and said they were yucky in school? That would hurt Jackie’s feelings, wouldn’t it?”
“I guess so,” she concedes. Then she grabs her backpack and slings it over one shoulder. “But Ronan—” She stops. “Can I call you that? Or should I call you Mr…”
“Ronan is fine,” he replies. “And if your mom’s cookies are as good as you say they are, I suppose I have to try them, don’t I?”
Haley nods enthusiastically. “You do. And if you’re going to be climbing the ladder, you need plenty of energy. I’ll bring you extra.” Then she tears off towards the house, shoving through the front door with such force I can hear it ricochet off the wall inside.
Once the door shuts behind her—at least she remembered to close it in her excitement—I look at Ronan and say, “Sorry. She loves to talk. Like she said. I’ve been working on the whole interrupting thing…”
Ronan smiles, and it hits me square in the chest. “It’s okay. I’ve got plenty of friends with kids.”
“Still, I’m sure this wasn’t what you were expecting when Hazel asked you to stop by.” My best guess, knowing Hazel, is she laid it on thick about how worried she was about me, going up on a ladder by myself and—
Okay, I suppose she might have had a point, considering the whole ladder catastrophe.
But Ronan wouldn’t have thought anything like that would happen.
He probably thought he’d swing by, take a few minutes to make sure everything was okay, and be back on the road in under ten minutes.
Not end up stuck at my house following through on my overly-ambitious plan for holiday decorating and being quizzed by my daughter while he’s doing it.
“Angel.” That intense expression is back. I’m not quite sure what it means, but it makes my stomach feel all fluttery. “I thought I’d help put up the lights. Which is what I’m doing.”
“But me falling, and now Haley, and the cookies—”
“I’m glad I was here,” he interrupts. “When you fell, I mean. So I could make sure you were okay.” His gaze moves up and down my body again, and though I know he’s only looking at me in a clinical, assessing way, a surge of heat rushes to my cheeks.
“And Haley is fine. She’s cute.” Then he touches my arm, setting off those darn tingles again.
“Are you sure you’re feeling alright? I saw you wince when Haley hugged you. ”
“I’m fine,” I reply. “Just a couple of bruises is all. No big deal.”
His forehead pinches. “You should still take it easy for the rest of the evening. Now that I’m thinking about it, once I finish with the lights, I’d like to take another look at you. Just to make sure there isn’t any concerning swelling.”
“You really don’t have to stay,” I offer weakly. “I’ll be fine. Really.”
But deep down, I want him to.
Not because of the lights. But because of this odd little tug that happens whenever I’m near him—a tug that I’ve tried to ignore for years while reminding myself of all the reasons I’m better off single.
Except now that he’s touched me, it’s a lot harder to ignore it.
Ronan’s gaze burns into mine. “I know I don’t have to, Angel.” And oh, the timbre of his voice when he says my name wakes up parts of me that have been in hibernation for a very long time. “I want—”
“The cookies!” Haley shouts as she flings open the front door. In one hand is a plate that has to have at least twenty cookies piled on it. “I brought all the kinds. So Ronan can try them all.”
I should be relieved by the interruption. I should take it as a sign that thinking about Ronan as anything other than a customer, as a friend of a friend, is a recipe for disappointment.
Should.
But does a little part of me wish for a little more time alone with Ronan?
Yes.
I shouldn’t. But I do.