“No, I’m okay.” My stomach growls like a small bear and gives me away.Stupid traitor.
One corner of his mouth kicks higher. “Right, come on. Let’s get something in the oven.” He pushes to his feet and moves into the kitchen.
I follow him into the kitchen and sit at the counter while he puts a frozen pizza in the oven. This place is a study in Rustin. Old copper pans gleam on open shelving. A few empty beer bottles flank the corner of the counter and there is, of course, a wild amount of baking supplies.
My eyes land on a folded piece of paper with smudges of butter on the corners. I take in the old fashioned scrolling handwriting and my heart tumbles when I realize what it is.The Reynolds Family Christmas Cookies.I pull it toward me. There’s a grease stain by the word apron.
A fragmented memory slams into me… Rustin in nothing but that old green apron with flour on his cheekbone. The bow tied indecently low above the hard curve of his ass. Him slipping my fingers into his mouth when I burned them on the pan.
I inhale too fast and cough.
His back flexes as he reaches for a pot. “Let’s get something to warm you up. Tea or coffee?”
“Either. Honestly, Rustin, I’m just so glad I’m here with you.”
His shoulders go still. For a heartbeat, the only sound is the wind and the low crackle of the fire catching in the other room. He reaches for the cinnamon tin. “Okay, whiskey it is.”
“Even better.”
Rustin brings me a mug that smells like apples and heat. Our fingers brush when he passes it to me and phone-book-thick history rushes across my skin. Warning signs flash in front of my eyes. I’ve got some kind of reverse Midas touch right now and I probably need to keep it to myself.
I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t think about the way Rustin’s arms ripple with his every movement. I shouldn't even look at his mouth. I do anyway. God, that mouth.
I remember exactly how it feels on every part of my skin. How he used to kiss the inside of my thigh right before…Ugh, Kara get it together.I can't think about that. Not when he's standing there looking like every lumberjack fantasy I've ever had.
Ten minutes later we’re two drinks in and eating pizza and drinking in front of the fire. Rustin settles back on the fireplace across from me and I can’t help but think that the distance is deliberate. Even still, the wall between us dissipates a little more with each sip. He teases me about my shoes. I pull a sequin from my dress and add a little flair to his wreath. The conversation is easy and I melt into it.
The fire paints his skin gold by the time Rustin finally brings up the elephant in the room. “How far did you get earlier today?”
“All the way to the vows,” I admit.
“That checks out. You made it to the lie,” he says, eyes on mine. “The moment you had to promise to love someone who wasn’t me. The charade crumbled.”
My stomach lurches. “Rustin.”
“No, you don’t get to ‘Rustin’ me.” His voice is quiet but edged. “Not after three years. Not after you chose someone else.”
The memory hits like ice water… My mother’s pearls, her polite smile, the envelope she tried to give him in the church parking lot on behalf of my father. The ultimatum Rustin gave me in return. It was my family or him. I blink and see myself. I’m staring up at him, frozen by regret.
“I was twenty-one. I was scared and trying to make everyone happy.” The way he looks at me in the silence scorches my brain.
“Everyone but me.”
“To be fair, I didn’t make myself happy either. I knew what I wanted but I thought if I could make my parents happy, I’d eventually be happy too. You know, follow the plan. Stick to the expectations.”
He huffs a laugh that isn’t a laugh. “How’d that work out for you?”
“How do you think? I’m sitting in your cabin in a ruined wedding dress in the middle of a fucking blizzard.”
“Fair point.” He lets out a chuckle and it breaks the tension. “I’ll grab us some refills.”
My phone buzzes as multiple texts come through in succession. When I check them, I find words of warning from my sister.
Kendall:Mom’s losing it. Where are you? Are you safe? Please just let me know you’re okay.
I know she’s just being supportive but I can’t help but to roll my eyes.
Me:I’m safe. I’m with Rustin.
