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“I had lunch with Deacon today.”
My jaw tightens, and I sit back. “Is that why you’re out here? Fishing?”
She doesn’t answer immediately. The fountain creates a backdrop of noise, and she looks down at our toes tracing lines in the surface. “Yes.”
“Why did having lunch with Deacon make you want to find me?”
“Someth
ing happened last weekend when you left the nursing home. We were moving forward, but I felt you pull back again… Will you tell me why?”
“No.”
“You won’t?”
My chest is tight, and I want to dive into the pond again. I want to swim away, across to the other side. “It’s not something I want to talk about.”
Her lips press together briefly. “What do you see me as? How do you feel about us?” Clear green eyes pierce mine, and I want to stand. I’m not trying to hurt her.
The sun is still hot even though it’s after six, and it dries our bodies quickly. Clearing my throat, I go to where I left my pants, scooping them up and shoving my feet in them one at a time.
“You ask hard questions.”
Her chin drops, and she studies her hands in her lap. “I don’t think they’re hard.”
I finish dressing and storm back to where she sits. Taking a beat, I do my best to calm the frustration in my chest. “I want to be with you.”
She tilts her head and looks up at me. “For a few days? For longer?”
Yes… I think so?
“Do we have to decide that right now? Right here?”
Her eyes return to her lap, and she shakes her dark head. “I want to be more than a booty call.” Her voice is soft, like a heartbreak, and anger flares in my chest, giving my tone a bit of an edge.
“I’ve never thought of you that way.”
She stands quickly, gathering up her bag and slipping her feet into her boots. “I have to get home now.”
I’m on my feet as well, wishing I could fix this. Wishing I didn’t have secrets that could hurt her. I just want to hold her. “Will you give me a lift back to the house?”
“I guess.”
We walk to the waiting ATV in silence, and she tosses her bag into the rack on the front.
I search for something safe to say. “Did you finish the poster?”
“Yes. I came here right after I gave it to Andre.” She pushes down on the starter.
“Was it the one you showed me?”
“No.” She pushes on the starter again, and the engine roars to life. “It was something new.”
I’m not sure how to take that answer. I sit on the back of the three-wheeler, holding her body against my chest as she drives us across the bumpy fields to the house. She feels so good in my arms. I want to hold her this way forever. I want to change the way I am, but I don’t know how.
We park behind the shed, and she grabs her bag, ready to take off without another word. I catch her around the waist and pull her to me before she can escape.
“Hey.” My voice is rough.
