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Indigo set her bags down on the floor and glanced around the living room. “The place hasn’t changed since I was last here as a kid. I always loved your mom’s eclectic decorating style. It made the house feel like it was from a different era, but not in a bad way. Like she was preserving the times and things she remembered and loved.”
I pointed at the macrame planter hanging in one corner. “You mean like Bob over there?”
“Bob?” she asked, turning to look at the spider plant hanging out of the twine holder.
“Bob Marley,” I said with a chuckle. “Mom was nothing if not eclectic. If she were here, she’d already have her Christmas decorations up.”
Indigo turned back and gave me a pained smile. “She always flipped them on November first, didn’t she? I loved driving by the house to see what she’d come up with for that year.”
I stared over her shoulder and nodded. “Why don’t I take you upstairs and you can pick a room.”
I led the way up the stairs while she followed behind me, her feet dragging as she walked down the hallway. It looked like I better get her into a bed fast before she collapsed. It was a shame I wouldn’t be sharing it with her. That hug at the gazebo had offered me more comfort in a few moments than I’d ever had from anyone in my life. Imagine if I could be in her arms all night. I could imagine. That was the problem. I could not get involved with Gumdrop. She was out of my league and had much bigger fish to fry.
“I was thinking you could stay in the guest room,” I explained, motioning at the open door. “The bed is already made up and the dresser is empty. As long as you don’t mind my mom’s craft supplies taking up space. I haven’t gotten to cleaning those out yet.”
“I don’t mind at all, Lance. I just appreciate having a bed somewhere close to the bakery that I know is safe. Seriously. And I’m going to pay you rent until I can find my own place. That’s only fair.”
I was shaking my head before she even finished. “No, that’s not necessary, Gumdrop. I own the house now. Mom made sure of it. I don’t need your money. In fact, I have to sell her car since I can’t drive it. It’s practically new, so really, I don’t need any money.”
She put her hand on my arm and squeezed. “I’d still like to contribute. Let me pay the utilities while I’m here or at the very least, pick up the grocery bill. I work and earn a salary. It’s not that I can’t afford to rent an apartment. It’s that I can’t find one to rent.”
“I know, but I don’t want you to think I brought you here and expect you to pay. That’s not the case. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you need to or want to.”
She nodded and sat down on the bed, bouncing a couple of times on the mattress. “It’s so soft. I’m going to sleep like a baby. Thanks, Lance. I mean it. I will be forever grateful for your kindness.”
I shrugged, my cheeks heating from embarrassment. “You aren’t a problem, Indigo. I know my mom would be happy you’re here. You were always her favorite of my friend group. I do have a question.”
“Sure, ask away.”
“Why didn’t you just move back home? Brenda and Bruce live in town.”
Her chin dropped to her chest and she refused to make eye contact with me. “Story for another day, okay?”
I could tell by the set of her shoulders and the tone of her voice that it was wise not to push. “Sure,” I agreed, walking to the window, and pulling the shades. “I’ll leave you to get some shut-eye. The bathroom is directly across the hall. I have my own, so it’s all yours. Do you need anything else?”
She stood up and motioned at the bed. “No, this is more than I could ask for already. I appreciate it, Lance.”
I smiled and rubbed my hands on my thighs. “Which you’ve said, so you don’t have to keep saying it, okay? Consider this your home and treat it as such. I’ll be glad to have the company for the holidays.”
She walked to me and slipped her arms around my waist. Her head rested against my chest and her heat soaked into the most broken parts of me. I wrapped my arms around her instinctively and sighed at the comfort she offered.
“I feel the same,” she whispered.
It was then I knew just how complicated that story for another day must be.
Chapter Three
I slipped my bathrobe on and tied it at my waist, then padded down the hallway and stairs to the living room. I was following the scent of something I couldn’t put my finger on, but it made my stomach growl with hunger.
“What is that smell?” I asked the man standing in the kitchen at the stove.
He spun around, a spatula in one hand and a beer in the other. “You’re up. I hope I didn’t wake you. I was hungry.”
“I don’t even know what time it is. Whatever that great smell is got me up and moving without a second thought.”
“It’s almost nine p.m.” He pointed at the pan in front of him. “Monte Cristo sandwiches.”
“I’m not familiar, but it smells like I’m a fan,” I said, sitting down at the table after grabbing a can of pop from the fridge.
