“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.