Page 12 of The Ohana Cottage

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MIA


The next morning, I make my guests some scrambled eggs and cut up some fruit. I savor our last breakfast, knowing that they’ll be leaving in an hour or so… but I also can’t help when my mind wanders to John and when I might be able to see him again. I hope he’s not too mad at me after last night. After we eat, I clean up the kitchen while they finish packing up their suitcases. When I put the last dish in the dishwasher, I arrange for an Uber to come pick them up from the cottage. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you to the airport?” I ask again.

“No, there's no sense in that. We can manage fine!” Mom says, zipping her suitcase. I help them carry their bags down the stairs and toward the main road. While we’re waiting for the car to arrive, Mom turns to me. “Mia, I just want to say that I was wrong. I thought it was too soon for you to get involved with someone else, yes… but it’s obvious that you two have something special. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look at Sean the way you and John look at each other. It’s obvious you two have chemistry.”

I blush and push my lips together in a tight smile.

“Just be careful. I guess I’m still not sure how this is going to work long term. You will be coming home, right?”

“Of course. Don’t worry so much, Mom. I’ll figure it out,” I say, knowing that there is, in fact, nothing to figure out. John isn’t interested in me; he was just playing a part. I will just need to remind my heart to stop reacting to every little thing he does.

“I love you both, and thank you for coming to visit me,” I say with a smile.

Behind me, I hear the door of the main house open, and John comes down his front steps. He smiles at me then turns to my mom and Paige.

“I just noticed you were out here with your luggage. Just wanted to say bye. It was nice to meet you both.”

“Oh, John. It was a pleasure,” Mom says while wrapping him in a hug. I can see him visibly tense. “Take care of our Mia while she’s here, okay?”

John nods and takes the opportunity to slip his arm around my waist.

Easy, heart.

“Will do,” he replies. His hand is burning through my clothes, and I try not to fixate on the sensation.

The Uber comes into sight down the road, and once it comes to a stop we all move to help load the suitcases in the trunk. I give my mom a hug, tell her I love her again, then turn to give Paige a hug.

“I demand all the juicy updates,” she whispers in my ear. Then she smiles at John and hops in the car. John and I watch as the Uber backs out of the driveway and disappears down the street. I blow out a deep breath, nearly crumbling with relief. It really was nice to see them, but I am glad to have some time to myself again that doesn’t involve an entire subplot of faked romance.

Speaking of… “Thank you for going along with the whole dating thing. I still feel awful about last night. I know it was stupid, but I really appreciate it.”

The corner of his mouth pulls up into a smile. “It wasn’t all bad. What are you up to today?”

“I have a little bit of work to do that I put off when they were here. Then I’m not sure. How about you?”

He shrugs. “No plans.”

“Well…I’m sure I’ll see you around.” I give him a small smile and start toward the cottage.

“See ya.”

I make it a few steps, then glance back to see John firmly planted right where I left him, watching me walk away.

* * *

A few hours later, I pull on an oven mitt and grab the sheet of cookies from the oven. After working for a few hours after Mom and Paige left, I ran into town and grabbed some cookie mix so I could bring some to John as a thank you. I set the pan on the top of the stove and leave the cookies to cool for a few minutes on the baking sheet. Then I head to the bathroom to double-check my appearance.

Not that I’m trying to impress him or anything… but maybe I am? I stop in front of the mirror in the bathroom and assess myself. I’m wearing a cream-colored tank top tucked into a sage green skirt that looks killer with my blonde hair, if I do say so myself. Okay, it might be a little fancy for a cookie delivery, but I’m all right with that. I even throw on a little lip gloss for good measure.

Back in the kitchen, I set the cookies on a plate, throw some foil over the top, and make my way out the door. When John answers his door, he looks almost happy to see me. But then again, maybe my heart is just making that up.

“I made you some cookies to say thank you again.” I hold up the tray and smile.

“You didn’t have to do that.” He steps to the side to let me in. I walk in and set the plate on the kitchen counter. He comes to my side and peels the foil off the plate. “I love cookies. Want one?”

“Sure! I did steal one already, but I’ll totally have another one. They’re pretty good!”

He grabs a cookie and backs up until he’s leaning against the kitchen counter, facing me. I lean against the kitchen island, directly in front of him. We take bites of our cookies and steal occasional glances at each other.

“Sorry about last night,” he says. “I usually try to avoid crowded places if I can help it.”

I shake my head. “John, you don’t have to apologize. I totally get it. And it was my fault. I should have just had an honest conversation with my mom instead of dragging you into this.”

He shrugs it off and changes the subject. “So, was it nice having your mom and Paige here?”

“It was. I definitely miss them… but it’s also kind of nice to have my quiet cottage back.” I glance up, and my gaze connects with his dark brown eyes. He slowly nods, and I can’t seem to break my eyes away from his, like there’s something holding them in place.

“Do you want to stay for dinner? I was just gonna grill a steak, but I can make an extra one if you want?”

“Sure,” I reply, our eyes still locked together.

He finally breaks the trance we’re in and heads for the fridge.

“I have stuff for salad over at the cottage; I can run and grab it real quick? I would love to offer to bring some papaya, but I’m all out. I need to run into town tomorrow to grab some.”

He chuckles. “Salad sounds great. I’ll turn the grill on and prep the steaks.”

“Perfect, I’ll be right back with the salad.”

I run back to grab the salad, and on the way back, I spot John in the backyard setting the steaks on the grill that’s on the patio next to the pool.

“I’ll bring this in the kitchen and put it together for us,” I tell John. He nods.

In the kitchen, I peek in the cabinets, searching for a salad bowl and a cutting board. I find what I’m looking for just as John comes back into the house. I start cutting the lettuce, and he grabs a bowl on the counter that has some gorgeous tomatoes. Coming beside me with another cutting board, he starts slicing them for the salad, throwing them in the bowl with the lettuce.

We work in silence, but I’m surprised to find that it’s a comfortable kind of silence. I usually like to fill any lulls in conversations with small talk, but I get the sense that John prefers the quiet. I don’t mind it so much, either. John goes outside to flip the steaks while I grab some plates and utensils to set out. I like his kitchen; it’s much more spacious than the one in the cottage. The kitchen table is cluttered with mail, so I neatly pile it all together and set it on one corner of the counter, hoping he doesn’t mind.

“Ready to eat?” he asks, bringing the steaks inside.

“Yes! That smells delicious!”

He hands me a Gold Cliff from the fridge, and we make our plates and sit down. I go to the far side of the table, and John sits right across from me.

“Oh, wow. This is good,” I say, taking my first bite of steak.

“Glad you like it.”

We eat in silence for a few minutes, then I glance around until my eyes land on the pool outside. “Do you swim in the pool a lot?”

“Not a lot. Just every once in a while. Do you like to swim?”

“I do. I always wanted a pool growing up, but my parents would never agree to it. There are only a couple months out of the year when it’s nice enough to swim outside, so it really isn’t worth it. Apparently, they’re a lot of work to maintain too. You need to clean it, what, every day?” I try to act like I am guessing instead of confirming the fact that I watch him every morning like a total creeper.

He nods. “You’re welcome to use this one any time you want, you know. While you’re here, consider it yours, too.”

“Really?” I ask with excitement. That certainly wasn’t part of the lease agreement. “Do you offer that to all of your tenants or just me?”

He looks up from his plate, and thinks for a moment, then looks back down. “Just you.”

Oh.

“Well, thank you. I will definitely take you up on that.”

We eat the rest of the meal in our comfortable silence, then I clear our plates and bring them to the sink. I start rinsing them to put in the dishwasher as John brings the salad bowl over. He places his hand on my back between my shoulder blades as he sets the bowl next to the sink. I freeze and instinctively hold my breath.

Is he really touching me? Why? No one’s here to pretend for.

He removes his hand and backs away to clear more dishes, while I seem to be stuck in time.

What does that mean? Was he just being nice? I’m sure I’m overreacting. Just go with the flow, Mia. Stop rambling to yourself.

We finish cleaning up dinner without any more touching instances. I look around at the clean kitchen. I’m not quite ready to call it a night yet, so I turn to John.

“I’m not ready for bed yet. Do you want to sit out by the pool? Ooh, better yet—how about I go grab my suit and take you up on that swimming you offered? You already gave me free rein, no backsies!”

He snickers. “Knock yourself out.”

“Will you join me?” My boldness surprises me. Maybe the beer has made me gutsy? I’m well aware that I’m tip-toeing around a line that maybe he doesn’t want to cross. But I’m also a firm believer that if you want something, you should go for it instead of just waiting for it to fall in your lap. Did I want John? I’m not gonna get all caught up in overthinking anything. All I know is I like him, and I like being around him. I look across the kitchen at him expectantly.

After what seems like forever, he nods. “Sure.”


Tags: Megan Reinking Romance