Chapter 15 Roan
ROAN
It’s not that late when I get back to the farm, but it feels like about a million years have passed since we left for the Mingle this morning.
I stand next to my truck for a moment after I get out, drinking in the deep silence and hoping the cold night air might clear my mind a little. I know I should head to bed and not overthink things, but I’m still reeling from that kiss.
The second I let myself think about it, I can feel the softness of her cheek in my hand, smell the light vanilla that clings to her hair, and hear the way she sighed when I kissed her. Like she had been waiting for that kiss for a long time. Like she was happy.
It’s probably for the best that a crew of teenagers came laughing their way up the street a moment later.
She pulled back, and I had to let her. But she didn’t seem upset that we kissed or say anything like we shouldn’t have done that or she just wanted to be friends.
She just smiled up at me, her cheeks pink from embarrassment that we were almost caught, and I felt something warm and gentle curl around my heart like a kitten in front of a fireplace.
I brought her back to the shop afterward and walked her right to the door. Somehow instead of kissing her again, I managed to let her open up and go inside, promising to see me soon.
And standing on the sidewalk, watching until a light came on in her apartment, I felt this profound sense of peace.
My heart is still pounding, but this isn’t a frantic love. It’s a deep one, a love that will last.
Of course I can’t say anything like that out loud yet, or I’ll scare her away.
I blow out a deep plume of warm breath and decide to go inside. I could head over to my place, but I’m going to stop by Mom and Dad’s first in case Meg is still up. She was planning to do a sleepover with them, but I hate not saying good night if I have the chance.
I knock the snow off my boots and head inside. The house is dark and silent—I guess Mom and Dad got to bed early. And Buck probably won’t be back for hours.
But wow, it smells so good in here. Dad definitely had the slow cooker going while we were all out, and there’s no way I can resist poking around in the kitchen.
Sure enough, I find a container of chili in the fridge, and a pan of cornbread too. I pull out the chili and set it on the counter to fix myself a bowl.
It looks so good that I just dig in without even heating it up, and I guess I’m too lost in my thoughts to hear the front door because suddenly there are footsteps in the kitchen.
“You’re eating that cold?” Buck asks.
“It’s good cold,” I tell him through an enormous bite.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” he says, grabbing a bowl of his own and a huge spoon.
We stand by the sink together, looking out at the moonlight glowing on the snowy trees.
“You have to lock that down immediately,” Buck says suddenly. “You know that, right?”
“Taylor?” I ask, even though I know the answer.
“No, Santa Claus,” Buck says, shaking his head. “Of course Taylor. She’s great, man, and she really likes you. What are you going to do about it?”
“She knows I like her,” I hedge. “I don’t want to scare her off.”
“Where’s she going?” he asks. “She came here and braved our family. She obviously gets how awesome Meg is. And she’s invested in the town. If you don’t move on her, someone else will.”
“Leave her alone, Buck,” I say, my blood pressure suddenly soaring.
“Not me, man,” he laughs. “But someone. What’s your plan?”
“I’m not sure,” I admit. “I wanted to let it happen organically.”
“Organically?” he echoes, rolling his eyes. “Love isn’t a farm, Roan. Being patient won’t help you here. And if you mess this up, your daughter will never forgive you. Is that the issue?”
“That’s part of it,” I say, sighing and setting my bowl and spoon in the sink. “I don’t know if Meg is ready for me to date.”
“Oh no?” my brother asks. “She told me your girlfriend was coming for breakfast this morning. Looked super jazzed about it too, for the record.”
“Wow,” I say, honestly floored.
“Wow is right,” Buck says. “Make a plan. Tonight.”
“Dad?” a sleepy voice says from the hallway before I have a chance to respond.
“Hey, baby,” I say, smiling at the sight of Meg in a pair of flannel pajamas, her hair messy and her eyes so sleepy. I always think she’s growing up too fast, and seeing her like this is reassuring.
“Do I have to go home with you?” she asks.
“You can if you want,” I tell her. “Or you can stay here. I was just about to go.”
“You ate all the leftovers,” she says sadly.
“Not all of them,” Buck tells her. “You can still have cornbread for breakfast, Meg-a-tron.”
“I want to stay over,” she says. “Grandma said we can wrap presents.”
“Okay,” I tell her. “Hey, listen, can we talk for a sec?”
“Okay,” she says, collapsing onto a kitchen chair.
“Catch you guys tomorrow,” Buck says, heading down the hall to give us space.
“Is this about Taylor?” Meg guesses.
“How would you feel about me dating her?” I blurt out too loudly.
“I thought you already were,” she says, blinking at me.
“Well then, how do you feel about it?” I ask her.
“I like her,” she says, smiling. “She doesn’t give you those weird eyes.”
“What weird eyes?” I ask.
“You know,” Meg says. “Like the other ladies.”
She smiles and blinks at me in an exaggerated way, then makes a show out of looking down and tossing her messy hair over her shoulder.
I can’t help cracking up. It’s honestly pretty accurate. Not that every woman in town looks at me like that. But plenty of them used to, before they figured out that I wasn’t going to be dating anyone.
“No,” I agree. “She definitely doesn’t do that.”
“I think you should marry her,” Meg says firmly.
That escalated quickly.
“I don’t think she moved to the mountains to get married,” I say, trying to swallow down my surprise and figure out how to tell Meg that normal people don’t just marry each other out of the blue. “She’s trying to get the bookshop open.”
“Well, just because it’s not what she came here for doesn’t mean she can’t do it,” Meg says reasonably. “Plenty of people have a job and are also married.”
“Okay,” I say. “Well, I’m glad you don’t mind me dating her.”
“Would it matter?” Meg’s voice is smaller now and softer, and she’s not looking me in the eye anymore.
“Hey, what are you talking about?” I say, striding over to crouch in front of her chair so I can see her face. “Of course it would matter.”
“Ryan P.’s dad got married again,” she mutters. “And his stepmom thinks he’s in the way.”
“She said that?” I ask, horrified.
“Well, probably not, I guess,” Meg says, stealing a glance up at me. “But Ryan P. says that he knows she thinks it.”
“I’m really sorry to hear that,” I tell her. “I would never marry someone who felt that way about you, or even just made you think they did.”
“Taylor likes me,” Meg says, her voice a little more confident now.
“Probably more than she likes me,” I admit.
That buys me a smirk from Meg, which instantly makes me feel better.
“I’m glad you like her too,” I tell her. “And we’ll see where things go.”
“Okay,” Meg says. “Just don’t let any other guys get to her first. She’s special.”
“You know, you and your uncle are more similar than I thought,” I say thoughtfully as I try unsuccessfully to tuck a bit of her hair behind her ear.
“Yes,” she agrees. “We both like to eat cold chili in the middle of the night.”
She’s dropping a big hint that she wants a midnight snack, and I figure she’s earned it.
“Get yourself a bowl,” I tell her. “And don’t tell Grandma.”
“I tell Grandma everything,” she says, scampering to the cupboard for her bowl.
I have to smile at that. I raised a really good daughter.
Now I just have to figure out how to lock down the woman I know she wants in our life.
And that might be easier said than done.