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And then a thought of what else a young woman might need occurs to me, and my smile falls.
How does she feel when she gets carried away?
I take her braid, rubbing the hair between my fingers as I lick my suddenly dry lips.
She looks up at me, her eyes big for once, and I blink, snapping myself out of it.
I gently pull on her braid again. “Blueberry pancakes?” I ask.
I bat my eyelashes, giving her my best pouty face.
“With extra blueberries?” I beg.
She purses her lips and crosses her arms, looking away again.
But she doesn’t say no.
“Thanks.” And then I plant a kiss on her forehead and yank down hard on her braid again, chuckling and jumping out of the tub as she slaps my back in my escape.
I pull the shower curtain closed for her and take another towel off the rack, drying my hair.
Turning around, I reach for the door and unlock the knob, but then I see something come out of the shower out of the corner of my eye and stop.
Tiernan’s flannel—my flannel—lays on the floor outside the tub, discarded.
I dart my eyes up, squeezing the door handle as the shape of her through the white shower curtain moves. Jean shorts fall next, and I look away, still gripping the handle.
My body warms.
I can already hear it. The winter winds that will blow through the attic in a couple short months. The smell of the snow that will come this winter.
Months of a quiet house and darkness and rooms with her in them. Moments, showers, corners, silent nights…
And for once, I might be excited to be here for it.
Without thinking, I twist the lock again and look over at her through the curtain.
I can almost see her underwear sticking to her body. Remember the toned calves and thighs.
What if she likes me? What if it’s just once? A secret? Something my father never has to know?
Maybe not today but maybe tomorrow. Or next week. In here, in the shower, where no one has to see.
But I shake my head and unlock the door, leaving quickly.
Jesus Christ. That’s not what she needs.
And another notch on my belt is not what I need.
I need my head examined. The poor kid just lost her parents.
“Oh, wow,” Tiernan says, jumping down from the truck and looking over at the waterfall.
It took two hours to get chores done, get the
truck packed up with beers, snacks, and fishing gear, and drive up here.
I slam the door as Kaleb starts walking toward the water. “Yeah…” I look across the small pond to the waterfall pouring over the cliff, hitting the surface, and the calm water flowing out of the alcove to a stream to the left.
