“I’ll stay,” I promised.
She flopped onto the pillow and shimmied closer to wrap herself around my body. Her feet weren’t ice on my legs anymore. She was a warm tangle of sunshine and hope. I loved that. I loved her. I wasn’t sure how I ended up such a lucky bastard, but I was never letting her slip through my fingers again.
Lola talked a little about looking forward to spending time with Ruth for lunch the next day and finding a new place to live, but her voice soon trailed off in drowsy murmurs. Then, she snuffled quiet breaths on my neck.
I couldn’t say what happened after that. I fell asleep with the love of my life in my arms, and my past no longer haunting every dream.
My eyes opened, squintinginto the blur of daylight.
Sunrise burned over the mountains, and the white-hot spears of light through the fading purple sky told me it was later than when I usually got up at the butt-crack of dawn.
But I wasn’t bothered. I was flying.
I’d kept my promise to Lola.
I rolled over, and my palm landed flat on a cold pillow. A smile tugged at my lips. I’d expected that. Lola’s breakfasts were one of my favourite parts of this strange routine we’d created since she’d been staying with me.
She was Breakfast Boss. I was Helper Lackey. Sometimes, I was Mr. Eye Candy. Either way, Lola ran the show, and if she kept flashing me that dazzling smile while she flipped pancakes, I’d never change a damn thing.
So, I took my time making the bed, stuffed around in the bathroom, threw an old T-shirt over my plaid pyjama bottoms,and eventually wandered down the hallway to see if she wanted help with anything. She wouldn’t, but I’d offer anyway.
I poked my head into the kitchen. No Lola, but…
Hell.
A Lola-sized cooking bomb had gone off. Almost every bowl and measuring cup I owned was piled on the counter. Flour was—my eyes darted around the kitchen—yep,everywhere.A fluffy white mountain in a mixing bowl. Smatters on the benchtop. A handprint on the fridge door.Everywhere.
I chuckled. Even the perfect woman needed at least one tiny flaw. Actually, was that a flaw? Nah. It gave me another reason to hang out with her.
I grabbed the blue dish rag off the sink and started to mop up the mess. My eyes drifted out the kitchen window. Fog over the valley… And a blur of red wobbling through the grass to the chicken coop.
Oh… Shit…
I flew out on the porch, then jumped down the back stairs and bolted after Lola. I instantly regretted forgetting my shoes when the sharp chill of the dewy grass spiked my bare feet.
“Lola!”
She paused, turning, a huge smile lighting up her face. “You ran out of eggs!” My red flannel shirt swam around her like a tent, and there was only a hint of knobbly knees and skinny legs peeking out from the top of my enormous gumboots. “I can’t make pancakes without eggs.”
I pecked a kiss above the smear of flour on her cheek. “Where are your glasses, love?”
“I don’t need them to find a few eggs.” Her nose scrunched up as she squinted at the coop. “I can see those clucky ladies just fine.”
“Oh, yeah?” I smirked. “But can you see the snake?”
“The”—she gulped—“s-snake?”
“Yeah. Great big tiger snake.” I pointed to the brown lump curled by the coop door. “See him? He’s a regular. Comes up here looking for the mice who steal the feed. He’s got himself an all-you-can-eat buffet with a real nice view.”
“How about we skip pancakes this morning?” She laughed. “What about some toast?”
“I love toast.”
A gentle tap on her bottom got her moving. The snake wouldn’t bother her if she didn’t bother him, but I wanted Lola back inside—safe—all the same.
With her hand steadied on the top of the outdoor lounge, she bent over to wrestle off the gumboots. Not that it did much good. She toppled over with an airy laugh when she yanked off the first one, but I caught her before she could fall out of the second. That earned me another one of her magic smiles.
My heart thudded in my chest. I wanted more moments like this one and our cuddles at night. I wanted to buy Lola her own gumboots—pink ones—so she could collect eggs every morning. I wanted to clean up the mess she made cooking breakfast. More than anything, I wanted to see her smiles. Real smiles. For me. And not just the bits of me I wasn’t too scared to show her. Her real smile for the real me.
