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DEVA
It was a long day,there was no doubt about that, and my head was far from screwed on straight.
I’d tried my best all day long to put the images out of my head and focus on the here and now, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t seem to stop turning my mind back to that first image of a shirtless Laeth Harker.
It was distracting, not to mention inappropriate. I had no business thinking about my boss like that, and it had taken an intense focus to force my mind in a different direction every time that memory popped up.
The sun had set hours ago. Cash was asleep in his room next door, and I was looking forward to curling up in my own bed with one of the books Myra had given me, but first, I needed to finish the task at hand.
I pressed down on the peddle beneath my foot, the whirring of the sewing machine a familiar comfort as I guided the fabric beneath the moving needle in a straight line. I thought about my mother every time I used her machine. I wondered what creations she’d made and if she found the act as soothing as I did.
Reaching the end of the piece of fabric, I let off the pedal, flipped the lever up, and pulled it free. Smiling ear to ear, I snipped the remaining thread with a pair of scissors and removed the pins that had been holding the panels in place before rising from the chair I’d been sitting in for the past hour and shaking out my new duvet cover.
The material was a bright, sunny yellow covered in crimson poppies that reminded me of a beautiful field of wildflowers in the middle of a bright spring day. I’d never owned anything so pretty, let alone created it.
Cash and I had passed a small fabric shop on the way to the grocery store earlier that day, and I’d spotted the bolt of fabric almost the instant we stepped through the door. Not only was it beautiful, but it was buttery soft, not the slightest bit scratchy like the sheets on my bed back at the Oakes’s.
In an effort to get Cash to inch ever-so-slightly out of his shell, I’d asked his opinion on a million different fabric swatches, all dull and boring in comparison to my sunny poppies.
He’d looked up at me with the same fathomless eyes as his father, only his held a kind of trepidation that tugged at my insides as he considered my question. I knew that look well, because it was the very one I’d worn most of the days of my life. It was a look that came with having to walk on eggshells, of being mindful of every move you made or word passing your lips.
My heart clenched, my back molars grinding together. I wasn’t sure who’d put that look in Cash’s eyes, whether it was Laeth or the mother I knew nothing about, but something inside of me wanted desperately to protect the young boy in front of me, and I was determined to do just that.
The choice had been a no-brainer once he felt comfortable enough to answer. The poppies were a clear winner, and wequickly paid the nice older woman who ran the shop and continued onward with our adventure to the grocery store.
I’d been dreading the trip, knowing the walk back with a pile of grocery bagsanda two-year-old in tow would be a difficult feat, but I could manage. After all, if I’d biked my way down a mountain in order to apply for a job, I could do this. Fortunately, the store wasn’t that far, and after going into Cash’s room to clean like my new boss had ordered, I discovered a little red wagon that would make getting everything home so much easier.
Truthfully, I’d have made that trip again and again and again if it meant seeing the enjoyment on his little face as I pulled him down the bumpy sidewalks, occasionally breaking into a light jog just so he could feel the wind against his face. He’d loved it, so it was worth the workout.
Every time I picked up speed, he’d do a little shimmy in the wagon, a light forming in his eyes, excitement glittering as peals of laughter spilled past his lips.
It had been an adventure for him, and by the time we got home, he was more than ready for a nap.
The rest of the day had been filled with cleaning and reorganizing the kitchen cupboards to make them more efficient. Once Cash woke up, I’d plunked him down on the plastic bench attached to his little table in the kitchen, and set him up to color so I could start on dinner.
Laeth had texted halfway through, informing me he was going to be home late and not to wait up, so after getting Cash fed, I’d given him a bath and tucked him into bed. He was out like a light before I finished reading his bedtime story.
With all my responsibilities completed for the day, I’d decided to take full advantage of the large tub in my bathroom and soaked out the tension that came with first day jitters. Then I got to work on my new bedding.
The material hadn’t exactly been cheap, but I was willing to return the entirety of my first paycheck to Laeth the cover the cost of the fabric if it meant I could have something so bright and lively for my bedroom.
Thrilled with the way it had turned out, I spun around to put it on the bed and let out a startled yelp at the figure standing in the opened doorway.
“Oh my God,” I breathed out, pressing my palm against my sternum, right over where my heart was beating wildly against my ribs. “You scared the life out of me. I didn’t hear you come in.”
His expression gave nothing away as he stood there, arms crossed and shoulder pressed against the doorjamb. He was the picture of moody and casual as he stood there with a blank look on his face. “Sorry about that. I called out.”
“It’s...” I cleared my throat, blinking against the image of him shirtless that wanted to press against the backs of my eyes. “No, it’s fine. I should have been paying better attention.”
He disregarded that last comment, jerking his chin at the duvet cover I was gripping onto. “What do you have there?”
“Oh, um, it’s my new bedding.” I raised my arms, stretching them out, that smile stretching across my face once more. “Pretty, right?”
His brow furrowed as he stood tall and stepped into my room. The space suddenly felt so much smaller with him in it, like he took up all the air. He was close enough to reach out and touch the material, trailing it through his index finger and thumb. Also close enough that I could smell him. It was a pleasant smell, like sunshine and pine trees and musk, hypnotic and intoxicating, and it made my head spin.
He looked at me with those stormy eyes, the thick, dark slashes that made his eyebrows pulled into a frown. “You made this?”
I nodded. “I like sewing, making something out of something else, you know? Back in the community—” I cut myself short at the mention of the Fellowship. “Just, um, well, we were responsible for sewing all the clothes.” I lifted the cover again. “I enjoyed making this a whole lot more.” I swallowed thickly, nervously. I could only hope those nerves would fade over time because I didn’t think this would work if they didn’t. “I’ll pay you back for the material.”
