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“I suppose you want to know what happened earlier?”
“I’ll like to, yes,” he replied, calmer.
“There’s not much to tell,” I replied. “At this one stoplight in town, I was about to turn into the crossroad when this big jeep came flying in, almost T-boning me, but I stomped on the brake, and it flew down the road. Never saw it again. I’d spilled coffee all over myself, so I had to return home to change. I called the principal, explained what happened, she gave me the time off, and then I called you.”
A tick started to jump into John’s jaw as he dropped knobs of butter into the pans with garlic and rosemary. He tilted the pan and started basting. His movements were smooth, practiced, and even motioned, even with the irritation ticking at his jaw.
I stalled in picking up the next cookie. “What’s going through your head right now?”
“It just does not feel right,” he said. “First the attack on my ranch, then this with you? I may not be superstitious, but this feels connected.”
“You think West organized this?” I asked incredulously.
“I wouldn’t put it past him or that gorgon lady of his,” he replied. “They are both incredibly petty, and I’ve heard from the horse’s mouth that Miss Hernandez is from a family that excels in manipulations.”
“But why try to kill me? How would that—?” I asked then something struck me. “…because I’m connected to you, right. If I get hurt, you get hurt.”
“Yes,” John replied while plucking the steaks out and putting them to rest. He placed the hot pan in the sink, braced his hands on the edge, and hunched over. “But it’s another thing we can’t prove…yet. Do you remember what the car that nearly ran into you looked like?”
“It was almost a blur,” I said while thinking back. “It was big, blackish, maybe dark blue. I don’t know.” In the end, I almost apologized, and John seemed to understand. He gave me a sympathetic smile. “Forgive me.”
“There’s nothing to forgive,” he said, reaching for plates and popping the potato salad and rice tubs open. “I am glad you’re not hurt, though.”
I slipped off the counter and wrapped my arms around his middle while he held the two filled plates aloft. “I’m glad you’re here.”
He angled his head to kiss my temple. “Me too. Now, let’s eat.”
One hour later, with my belly full of sumptuous food, wine, and ice cream topped with cookie crumble toppings, I leaned into John’s side, and my head fell into the crook of his neck. “I feel like a double-stuffed Oreo.”
“Good analogy,” he replied, tilting his head, eyes deep and smoldering. “Now, I get to lick you all over.”
I shook my head and laughed. “I’m too full for sex. As a matter of fact, I think I’m about five minutes away from falling asleep on you.” I reached for his hand and laced our fingers together, “Stay the night?”
“You couldn’t stop me,” John replied. “But I’ll have to come back later, sweetheart. I need to return to the ranch, tie up some loose ends, and come right back.”
I nuzzled into his warm skin. “I’ll be waiting.”
* * *
By sunset, I was curled up on the couch, with a bowl of ice cream on my lap, doused with coffee liquor—another little gem in John’s basket—while I watched some silly little rom-com. I wondered what John was doing.
A beam of golden-orange light reflected off the window and broke into a rainbow splatter over my kitchen. Without thought or reason, my mind turned to the remains of my dream that morning, and I bit my lip.
Only in another life. This one is too complicated.
My phone rang, and I looked at the caller ID. It was Jessica, another new hire at the school, but she taught kindergarten. “Hey Jessie, what’s up?”
“Mrs. Morton told me what happened,” she rushed. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I replied. “Got a little rattled but not injured. Nothing happened to my car.”
Her breath of relief was audible. “That’s good to hear. Are you at home? Do you want me to bring you something? My mom made approximately two tons of meatloaf and lasagna. I could bring you some.”
“Thanks, but not tonight,” I said. “I just want to rest for a while and take it easy. You could bring it over tomorrow, though.”
“Sure,” Jessica replied. “Glad to know you’re okay.”
“I am.” We chatted until I heard the telltale crunch of tires on my driveway. “Um, I’ve got to go, Jessica. Thanks for checking on me.”
