Page 17 of 323 Tender Way

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"Well, this is one hell of a complex," he said, approaching me with a bouquet of daisies in his hands. “Is this student housing or independent?”

“It’s a private company, but they cater to students at the university.” He handed me the flowers that looked so bright and summery.

"I wasn't sure what kind of flower you liked. I picked these out cause they reminded me of you."

"Thank you," I said, taking it from him and stepping aside so that he could come inside my tiny apartment.

"It smells amazing in here."

"Hope you like Shepherd's pie," I said. I put the daisies in my ancient and only vase which came free with the flowers my Gran sent me when I’d had my tonsils out.

“I like anything homemade, especially if you made it.”

"Can I offer you a drink? I've got wine and beer," I said. I wiped my hands on a dishtowel after setting the daisies on the window sill.

I turned around and watched as he rubbed the back of his head; he was a good-looking man. I didn't think I'd ever stop thinking that. Tall, built, the alluring tattoos. He was the type of guy you saw in magazines, a guy peeled right off an ad in a teen magazine or stepping off the set of a television show. Effortlessly attractive.

"Water’s great. I don't drink alcohol."

"Oh, me neither, really. I hate the taste. I keep it around sometimes for when friends come by. Apparently, having a dry house is too weird for people. Like you turn twenty-one and automatically you’re supposed to have a drink in your hand every day?"

I handed him the water, he took it and smiled.

"Tell me about it," he said. “So you’re sober, too?”

“Yeah! I mean, I guess so. What does sober mean exactly? That you had a problem and stopped? Are you sober if you never started? Or is that what they call a dry drunk. I mean my dad has the occasional wine or like cocktails on vacation, but in my family they’re like more social drinkers. I did have a grandfather I never met on my dad’s side who was into moonshine, and I guess you could say he had a drinking problem.”

Duke was smiling at me in the most adorable way. It made me realize I was babbling like a complete idiot, and not even coming close to answering his question.

“Sorry,” I said. I took a sip of my water and could feel my face heat.

“Don’t be sorry, Madison. Your babbling is my new favorite thing to hear.”

"That has to be the best Shepherd's pie I've ever had, hands down," Duke said, patting his rock-hard, solid belly. The man must have worked out at least two hours a day to have a body like that. "Where did you learn to cook so well?"

"My Gran. When my mom died, my dad moved us in with her. He worked so much, and I needed someone to look after me. She pretty much raised me. I call her my Gran, but she’s pretty much a mom to me."

"I'm sorry to hear about your mom. How old were you when she passed?"

"Young, I barely remember her. I was two. She died in a car accident. I guess I was there when it happened, but I don’t remember it at all."

"That must have been tough. Guess you’re a miracle. Lucky to be alive.”

“That’s the truth. It was hard growing up without a mom, but it was harder on my dad. I was so young that the only thing I remember of her is from the pictures we have. But my dad took it pretty hard. She was the only woman he ever loved, and he never remarried. But he sure was gone a lot, always working, taking extra shifts. I think seeing me made him think of her, so he worked himself half to death to cope with the loss. We didn't have much of a relationship until I was sixteen, and my Gran told him off. Said he was going to lose me too if he didn’t man up and act like a father. She is a real spitfire, my Gran." I smiled, thinking about my feisty Gran and how much she'd done for me throughout my entire life. "We still have dinner together a few times a week."

"Does she live in Cherry Falls," he asked, his intense gaze caging me.

"Oh yeah, born and raised. My mom’s family was from here, too. We can’t seem to get away from this town even if we wanted to. But it’s been nice to grow up around my cousins and aunts and uncles. My family isn’t huge, but since my extended family is here, they kind of make up for it.”

"It sounds nice. Family is critical. I learned that the hard way," he said, his eyes going distant.


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