Chapter 21
Leif knocked on Ella’s door and then rocked back and forth on his heels, bracing himself for whatever might happen.
He’d tried to find her in Tvedestrand but bumped into his customer as he left the Seilloftet.
He’d successfully begged off having lunch, but he had to pause to exchange the boat keys and paperwork.
After that, Ella was nowhere to be seen.
Leif knew he shouldn’t have agreed to buy Charlotte that drink. How would he ever explain the kiss to Ella? He loosened his grip on the red tulips clutched in his hand. Their stems were beaten up, like his heart would be if he lost his shot with Ella.
He knocked again. No answer. As he turned to leave, he saw her emerging from the evergreens that edged the cottage property. She had yellow flowers in her hair. His Sunna.
“Hey,” Ella said as she paused near the front door, and then fixed her gaze on the bees flitting around the golden aster. She wouldn’t meet his eye. He wondered if she was hurt or angry or both.
“Hey there.” He grinned at her. Wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans, he held out the tulips. “For you.”
“Thanks.” Ella accepted the drooping flowers.
“My apologies, I was holding them too tightly.” Leif held up his rucksack. “I brought dinner.”
“Something came up. I can’t tonight.” Ella turned toward the door and slid the key in the lock.
“I have kindling on my boat.”
She smiled, but barely, and she didn’t invite him in.
His gut rolled, like he’d eaten something rotten.
He was desperate to explain himself, but he found it hard to talk about his feelings, and he feared making things worse.
It tortured him not to say what was on his mind.
Sweat prickled his scalp. He liked Ella—really liked her—and knew he needed to say something big, something worthy, to get her to understand how sorry he truly was.
“I feel like I have bread stuck in my throat,” he rasped.
“That must feel very uncomfortable.”
She wasn’t going to make it easy on him either. His chest deflated and his ears burned with shame. What could he say to make Ella believe that there was nothing between him and Charlotte? The silence dragged on, until he couldn’t stand it any longer.
“I’m truly sorry, Ella. I know I hurt your feelings, and I apologize. Please believe me when I say that Charlotte is just a friend of mine. Sometimes we hook up, that’s all.”
“That’s none of my business.”
“I think it is.”
“Why, because we had one date?”
“I just, well”—he cleared his dry throat—“I thought you should know.”
“OK, so now I know. There’s really no reason to make a big deal out of it.”
Leif almost breathed a sigh of relief, but her voice didn’t sound as reasonable as her words. He reached for her hands, and she let him hold them.
“I didn’t expect to run into her,” he said. “And I didn’t expect her to kiss me. I feel horrible about it.”
She nodded at him.
“Really,” he added, after seeing the doubt in her expression. “I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all day, and to spending time with you tonight. I love being with you.”
“Same here” was all she offered as she let go of his hands. He reached for his pendant, the one that matched hers, and held it up.
“Fate . . . if one believes in that sort of thing,” he said.
“Yeah. Fate,” she said. “Like when stars collide.”
They stared at each other, making room again for the chemistry that was still smoldering underneath the more difficult emotions.
Leif tilted his head down and looked at her through his shaggy bangs.
“I want to laugh with you tonight. That laugh of yours is my favorite sound in the world.” He put on what he hoped was his cutest smile ever.
“OK.” She relented with a shake of her head. “Come on in.”
· · ·
Ella had surprised herself by letting Leif off so easily.
But she respected his honesty—in fact, she liked him more because of it.
Spoiling tonight because she felt threatened by Charlotte was ridiculous she told herself.
Nobody owed anybody anything. She was leaving soon, and right now she simply wanted to enjoy Leif’s company.
They set the table together, with cloth napkins and Mormor’s elegant Danish blue-and-white china that Ella had discovered in the antique sea chest beneath the cellar steps.
They hadn’t yet reestablished their earlier closeness, though they exchanged pleasantries while they worked.
Mostly, Leif complimented the cottage décor that Hilda had chosen long ago.
“Oh, thanks.” Ella handed him a glass of red wine. “But I’ve decided to get rid of almost all of it. Mia kindly offered to sell anything of value and give away the rest. If there’s any money left after covering my phone bill, she’ll wire it to me.”
Leif looked shocked. “You’re not keeping your family heirlooms?”
Ella shrugged. “It’s too expensive to ship. I’ll take my mom’s sewing machine though. It’s special to me—even though I’m not sure how I’ll possibly fit it in my tiny studio apartment.” She laughed.
“Yeah, I guess. That’s tough. But, um . . . would you let me buy your grandma’s clock? That little painting of the sea, just above the face . . . it’ll remind me of you.” He smiled.
“I’ll give you the clock,” Ella murmured.
He shook his head, as if getting such an extravagant gift made him uneasy.
“I won’t take no for an answer,” she insisted, touching his arm to help make her point.
“Please. It’s the least I can do, after all your help.
You found me at G?sholmen—I might’ve frozen to death or died from being scared out of my wits, or both. ”
“I was glad to help,” he said, smoothing her hair lovingly. “I adore spending time with you. I hope you know that.”
Leif cupped her chin gently and kissed the sensitive spot on her neck just below her ear.
She felt suddenly breathless with desire and fear.
What would happen if she let herself fall?
But she knew that she’d already fallen for Leif .
. . his intelligence and inner beauty, his shaggy hair and his good looks, his steadiness, and his passion for his designs.
The artist in her appreciated that. But she also knew that they were fundamentally different.
Change seemed to make him deeply uncomfortable, whereas she welcomed it with open arms. They quite literally came from two different worlds—his life revolved around boats and the small, secluded islands of Lyng?r.
And for her, well, it wasn’t an environment in which she thrived.
She wasn’t sure how a relationship with Leif could possibly work, though it was difficult to think logically right at that moment, while Leif’s touch was turning her brain to Jell-O.
In fact, she didn’t want to think about any of it at all.
Ella remembered her art teacher’s advice: “Trust the universe. Have faith that everything will work out as it should in the end.”
He yanked his shirt over his head, and it surprised her .
. . was he stripping? That would be too forward of him because of the whole Charlotte thingy, Ella told herself.
She watched his abs ripple as he tossed his shirt on the sofa.
He grinned in a way that suggested he could read her thoughts and that he absolutely approved of them.
She wanted him and he knew it. Her face grew hotter.
“You’re so captivating and beautiful—and you’re hot as hell.” He grinned again. She admired his extremely fit body; she was so turned on that she was starting to feel uncomfortable. He unbuckled his jeans to reveal navy swim trunks. Her eyes widened in surprise.
“I always take a quick swim in the sea before dinner.” He gestured toward the window, which was lit with a yellow glow from the early-evening sun. Outside, gulls chased each other over Lyng?r’s waters. A sailboat made its way to one of the tiny islands.
“You swim in that cold water every night, even in winter?” Ella gasped in horror. If he wasn’t so cute, she’d think he was crazy.