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“Yes, she said she’d be there.”
He leaned against the counter and blew on the hot liquid before taking a sip. “Why didn’t she bring them with to the party then?”
Why in the world was he giving her the third-degree about the flowers?
She picked up her mug filled with a tea meant to soothe her nerves for the day. As she took a sip, she wondered if she should’ve doubled the batch because she only felt her nerves ratcheting up a notch, not lowering.
“Because I asked for her to bring them here. I’ll meet you and Amelie at the bar to help set up. I have a stop to make first.”
It hadn’t been her idea to have Amelie’s one-year birthday party at The Corner Bar, but she didn’t argue when Corey suggested it. One, it was his daughter and his decision to make. Two, because despite it being a bar, it was the perfect place to have the party. Big enough space—the back area they planned to rope off—for the small number of people they planned to invite. His friends and family, her friends and family. She estimated about thirty to forty would show up. When they got sick of hanging out in the party area, they could head up front to take a seat at the bar and order a drink or food if they wanted. Not that they wouldn’t have food and drinks for the party as well.
He still leaned against the counter but his body was taut with tension, his jaw tight and his eyes close to narrowing in suspicion.
Yeah, what could she say? She was terrible at hiding what she was feeling. Not a good poker face. Ever.
“I thought we’d all go together.”
“I have a stop to make first.”
“So you said already. Where? What are the flowers for? Who are they for?”
She looked down at the mug in her hands. “You won’t like the answer so I’m trying to be nice and not give it to you.”
“Oh, so lying is the better option.”
Her head snapped up. “I didn’t lie.”
“You told me they were for Amelie.”
“No, I didn’t. You said they were for her. I never clarified.”
This time his eyes did narrow. “Like the time I assumed you were her mother and you didn’t correct me then.”
This conversation was getting way out of hand. That whole not thinking before leaping sort of thing. She should’ve told Mrs. Reverson she’d stop by her place to grab the peonies instead of dropping them off. But then Mrs. Reverson mentioned she’d be attending mass and it seemed easier for her to swing by on her way to church.
“You don’t like to talk about Melanie, so I’m trying to respect your wishes and not mention her. The flowers are for her. It is her daughter’s birthday and I thought she’d enjoy them.”
“You talk like she’s alive. She’s not.”
“I damn well know that!” She slammed her mug to the counter. It shattered in her hand, hot tea hitting her skin, scorching her. “Shit. Ouch. Shit.”
“Genevieve—”
She held up her good hand, waving him off not to come near her, then swiped the dish towel and wrapped her hand in it. She could feel the pain and wasn’t sure how badly she had cut herself.
Corey was smart enough not to come closer, but she could see the ache in his eyes that he wanted to disobey her demand. Instead, he grabbed another towel from a drawer and wiped up the tea streaming across the counter.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his jaw tight, his mouth pressed in a thin line.
“I’m fine.”
“Let me see your hand.” The brave man came within inches of her and didn’t ask if he could touch her. He simply did. Of course he couldn’t hold back too long. It didn’t matter if she screamed in his face, he wouldn’t listen.
“I said I’m fine.”
“And I said let me see your hand.” His tone was firm, yet his hands were gentle as he unfolded the towel and took a peek at her hand. Her knuckle on her pinky had a cut along with a small gash on the bottom of her hand. Not too deep where it would require a visit to the hospital—thank God—but she’d have to apply a band-aid for sure.
“Come on.” He didn’t give her a choice, dragging her to the bathroom with her good hand. He grabbed the medical supplies from underneath the sink and set to work washing her wounds and bandaging them.
