Then all he wanted to do was grab a quick bite and rush out the door.
But now, all that was behind us. We were starting new and I needed to remember that.
So, on with the cooking lesson.
"Do you have any garlic?" I asked. The vacant look in his eyes told me that was a definite no. "Okay, tomorrow-when I get off work, we are going shopping. And we're stocking this kitchen. This is horrifying. I refuse to live someplace that doesn't have food."
"I have food. Sort of," he argued. "But yes," he answered, wrapping his large hands around my waist. "We'll go shopping. Together. For our kitchen." He placed emphasis on the word "our," releasing a bevy of butterflies in my belly. The idea of sharing a home together-again-made me feel nervous, scared, and exhilarated all at once.
I leaned back into his embrace as his hands began to wander.
"Hey! No distracting me," I laughed. "I haven't had a decent meal in days. Now, go find some noodles."
"Yes ma'am."
He wandered into the pantry while I set my sights on the ham, grabbing a knife to begin chopping. I had a simple pasta dish in mind, but the ham and peas needed to cook through first.
"Any chance you have an onion in there?" I called out. He stuck his head out, holding a package of spaghetti.
"I'm pretty sure if there was, it would have sprouted roots by now."
I laughed and took the pasta from him as he came out of the pantry to stand beside me. "So, what do you want me to do now?" he asked, his voice low and husky next to my ear.
I audibly gulped, thinking of all the ways I could answer that question.
"Get a pot for the water," I answered softly.
I heard him chuckle as he turned toward the cupboard to grab a pot.
Jerk.
"So are we ever going to talk about your outing today?" he asked, returning with a large pot. I watched him place it carefully on the stove, as if he was scared he'd break something, as I tried to figure out how we'd gone from casually flirting to this.
"I don't know … never?" I tried to joke.
"I know I'm new to well … everything," he said, swiveling me around in his arms, "but according to the many romantic comedies I've watched, we're supposed to talk through our feelings and emotions. Otherwise bad, albeit hilarious consequences follow."
His smile was infectious. "You've based all of your relationship experience on romantic comedies?"
"Well, not all. I threw in a few dramas to keep it serious," he laughed.
"Oh boy," I replied.
"Now, come on-I know something happened. You ran upstairs with your things and I didn't see you for hours as you hid in that room."
I sighed, finally resting my head on his shoulder.
"Ryan showed up. It was brutal."
His hands gripped my chin, forcing eye contact. "What did he say? What do you mean by brutal?" His expression had turned dark, defensive.
"He said he'd wait for me."
His face fell as he realized the reason. "Because he thinks I'll hurt you again."
I nodded.
"I will always keep you safe."
"I know," I said.
"No, look at me," he begged, as his intense gaze met mine. Hazel green eyes full of fire and promise met mine and I knew without a doubt he meant every word.
"I'll never hurt you again, Everly."
As my lips eagerly met his, I hoped and prayed I'd made the right choice, because a life with August was going to be anything but simple.
Chapter Twenty-Four
August
I didn't know how long it would be before Everly would be able to move into the master-if ever. So, the next morning, I decided to move my things into the guest bedroom with hers.
I hadn't asked her to elaborate on her fears over the master bedroom, but I had a feeling I already knew based on the lock I'd removed from the outside. Proof that I'd really had locked her in there.
Why?
What reason would a man have to lock the woman he loved in their bedroom? I just didn't understand it.
"Why are you up so early?" Everly asked, peeking in at the doorway. She had a towel wrapped around her head and chest and drops of water dripped down her arms. If she didn't have to be at work in thirty minutes …
"I wanted to see you before you left … and drink the coffee you made," I grinned.
"Who said I was making coffee?" She laughed.
"If there's one thing I've learned about you in the last few days, it's that you cannot survive without coffee running through your veins. Especially in the morning."
She smiled brightly, something I'd never take for granted. "You're right. I've already had a cup. There's a fresh pot downstairs." I expected her to head back to the guest room and finish getting ready for work, but instead, I heard light footsteps enter the bedroom. It wasn't the first time she'd been in here. She'd wandered in here a few times, only to scurry back out in record time. The first time had been on that evening she drove me home from the hospital after my car accident.
I'd seen the torture and misery then. I had assumed it was all directed at me-and I'm sure a good part of it had been, but I'd never thought about how much a room could affect someone.
How many memories a house could carry.
"Are you happy here?" I asked.
"What do you mean?" she asked as she roamed around the room, looking at some of the pictures I'd recently hung. After I'd purged the house of everything Everly, I'd begun hanging my own photography. It filled me with pride to see her admiring it now.
"I mean-this room, this house … it's filled with so many memories. Would it be easier to just … start over?"
"You want to sell this place?" she asked in shock.
"I would-for you," I said, taking a step in her direction. "I'd do anything to make you happy."
She continued her long walk around the room, stopping at the large dresser by the bed as she silently thought. "This house is filled with memories. So many of them-both good and bad. And sometimes it's overwhelming being here with all of them swirling around in my head."
"So, let's move," I urged.
"Let me finish," she said. "As overwhelming as it is sometimes, it's also soothing. Like therapy. The fact that I can walk into this room right now gives me a great sense of peace. Knowing I can face my fears head on, rather than running away from them like I usually do? I can't tell you how good that makes me feel. I may not be able to sleep here, but at least I can take baby steps for now."
"I just don't like seeing you in any kind of pain. If I could take it away by just erasing it all-"
"No," she said adamantly. "I love this house. Despite everything, it means a great deal to me. Right now, I need to work on fighting the ghosts-not running from them."
Finding my way to her as she fiddled with my watch and other various things that sat in a large ornamental bowl on the dresser, I asked, "Is there anything I can do to help?"
Looking up at me over her shoulder, she gave a small smile. "Yes. Help me make new ones."
"Gladly," I whispered, leaning in to capture her lips. She pulled back, laughing under her breath. "I didn't mean this second-you're going to make me late for work!"
"Very very late," I agreed.
"August!" she yelped, twisting out of my grasp.
"Okay, okay!" I chuckled. "But you owe me-the second you get home."
"Deal," she agreed with a Cheshire Cat grin that nearly had me on my knees forgetting everything I'd just agreed to.
"Hey, can I borrow your watch?" she asked, grabbing it from the large bowl.
"Sure, why?" I asked, looking over her shoulder.
"I usually wear one to work and in my rush to pack yesterday, I forgot mine. I can go back to get it but-"
"It's yours," I said, placing my hand over hers. "But don't just settle on that one. There are a few more in there. Take a look and pick whichever one you want. I was going to donate them to charity since I have no need for six different watches."
"You realize," she said, standing on her tip toes as she dug through the bowl. "That most people keep these types of watches under lock and key, right? Not in a glass bowl on the top of their dresser? Do you know how much these are worth?" Her eyes darted back to mine with an amused grin.
"Probably a fortune, and I'm sure the old me cared about that kind of shit … but really? It's just a watch. It tells time just as well as something I could pick up at Target."
"I'm pretty sure some people would argue with you on that," she laughed, trying on another bold silver watch. She held out her arm to look at it and then shook her head and moved on.
"Yeah-rich snobby people."
"Like you?" she teased.
"I'm rich, but definitely not snobby."
"No,-hey, what's this?" she asked as her hand dug to the bottom of the bowl.