“That will work; she usually has dinner ready at five thirty.”
“Perfect. Now, would you like something to drink?” she offers.
“Sure, I’m not super picky, so what do you have?”
“I stopped at the grocery store, so I’ve got some more wine, beer, and soda.”
“Am I staying here tonight?” I ask, wanting to know before I decide if I’m drinking or not.
“I was hoping you would.” She smiles up at me and I can’t help but drop my lips to hers, claiming my first kiss of the night.
“In that case, I’ll take a beer or glass of wine, if you’re going to have one.”
“Okay,” she says against my lips. Neither one of us is in a hurry to get the drinks. Now that we’ve kissed once, we’re a mess of lips and teeth and tongues as our bodies align.
The beeping of the timer pulls us from our make-out session. Apparently, we found an easy way to blow a half-hour of time. “Let me get that,” I state, stepping away from her warm body. I grab the oven mitt before reaching into the oven to pull out the hot bubbling pan. I put the garlic bread in the oven, setting another timer for the five minutes the bread needs to warm up and toast.
“Here’re some plates,” Harper states, setting two down next to where I set the hot pan. “Do you want me to cut it, or do you got it?”
“I can do it,” I tell her, grabbing a larger knife from the butcher block on the countertop. I slice the lasagna, placing a large piece on each of our plates. The timer goes off again, and Harper grabs the garlic bread from the oven, pressing the buttons to turn it off.
“Man, this all smells so amazing. I can’t believe your mom just whipped this up for us this afternoon.”
“She was making one for her and Dad, so I think she just doubled her recipe or made a full one, just split it into two smaller pans that are perfect for two.”
“Ah, that makes sense.”
We carry our plates to the small table, both digging in to the hot food.
10
Harper
This past weekhas flown by. Each day I’ve spent my mornings and afternoons at the bakery like always, but my evenings have been so different. Having a man take all my time. One who has quickly wormed his way into my life and heart. If I’m honest with myself, he always had a place in it, but I thought that a life with him was just a daydream. After the last few days, those ideas are back, front and center. My only issue is he’s leaving tomorrow to go back to California, and I have no idea when I’ll get to see him again.
“Your mind is racing again,” Nathan states, tugging me a little tighter as we lay in bed. My head rests on his chest, along with one of my hands that’s splayed across the bare skin. My fingertips draw lazy circles and random patterns as they roam his skin.
“Sorry, I’m trying not to, but I’ve just got so much on my mind,” I confess.
“I know, babe. We’ll figure it out,” he assures me, but doesn’t tell me how. That’s the magical question I wish we could answer.
“It just sucks,” I say after a while, the silence almost easier to deal with than the thoughts running through my head. He has to return home tomorrow. I knew this was coming. I knew he wasn’t here for good, and I still let him into my life, my home and bed, but most of all my heart. I loved this man, but I had no idea how to tell him that or to know what happens after he steps foot on that plane tomorrow.
“Please don’t cry,” he says, rolling me under him and wiping my tears that slide down my cheeks away.
“I’m trying,” I tell him honestly.
“Let me make you feel good,” he states, dropping kisses on my exposed skin. My body instantly reacts to his touch; no matter how sad I am, my body craves his, and I give myself over to him again.
* * *
“How many timesare you going to wipe down the same square of the counter?” Lacey asks, pulling me from my funk. I’ve been off the entire morning. Burned the first batch of muffins I put in after I set the timer to the wrong setting. I hardly slept last night. Every time I’d doze off, Nathan would reach for me and we’d end up wrapped in each other until we were coming together, yet again. I lost count of the number of times we made love last night. He followed me out the door this morning, a long kiss goodbye as he drove off to his parents’ house to get the rest of his things before he needed to go to the airport. He left me with a promise to text me when he made it back, and that we could FaceTime tonight once we were both home.
“Shit,” I say, dropping the rag I’ve got in my hands. “Sorry, I’m just out of it today.”
“Why don’t you go home, take a hot shower, and then a nap. I’ve got it here today. We’ve got nothing pressing and I can handle whatever comes my way,” she states.
“Are you sure?” I ask, ready to rip my apron from my body and take off for my house.