The Military Wife (A Heart of a Hero, #1)(73)
“You’re not going to contract the roasting?” His eyebrows rose, but she didn’t feel like he was questioning her decision; he was merely curious.
“If we need to, but we have the room and the smell alone would be a selling point. Madeline has a handle on bean procurement and is excited to learn to roast. Think about walking into your favorite bakery and smelling the bread and pastries cooking. You walk out with more than you intended every single time. It’s part of the experience. I’ve come across a couple of used roasters at reasonable prices.”
“What about the equipment you bought at auction?”
“Expected delivery is two weeks from Monday.”
“Shop’s closed that day if you need the muscle to receive and move things around.” The look he cast her was testing.
She could do it on her own, but she’d missed his advice and steadiness. He calmed her tendency to panic over price or get overwhelmed at the enormity of the undertaking. “That’d be great. I’d love your help.”
She put her mug in the sink and ran her hands down her jeans. “I’d better go.”
He led the way down the stairs and through the shop, unlocking the front door and flipping the sign from Closed to Open. Birds having conversations filled the crisp morning air with song. The sun had risen over the line of trees, the bright light blinding.
He propped a shoulder against a column. Each step she took away from him was harder than the last. This leave-taking was like ripping a Band-Aid off an extremely hairy, sensitive body part.
She pivoted around. “How is this going to work?”
“You’ll drive home, do your thing while I’m doing my thing up here, and I’ll see you Sunday evening.” Thankfully, he didn’t play dumb.
“Okay, but—”
“Harper. Darlin’.” He descended but stayed on the step above her, forcing her to tilt her head way back to see him. He circled his hand around her nape and massaged. Like his touch was magic—maybe it was—she relaxed and her worries dissipated like morning fog. “We’ll manage.”
“How?”
“Texting. Phone. We’re not that far apart. It’s all good for now.”
“For now?” The temporary qualification shot a chill through her.
He laughed, but no amusement tracked to his eyes. “I don’t know what comes next. I’ve never done this before.”
She was the inexperienced one when it came to matters of the body, but he was the innocent one when it came to matters of the heart.
“You’ve never…” been in love? The words hung between them.
“You asked me once why I never came to the team cookouts and parties. The truth was I never fit in with the happy husbands and families. I told myself I felt sorry for them. Anchored to one woman with responsibilities that kept them up at nights when we were deployed. But the truth was I was envious. I’ve never had a woman look at me the way you are right now. You scare the hell out of me.”
“Why?” A whisper was all she could manage with her heart in her throat.
“Because until now, I’ve always been able to walk away.”
Until now. The words raced through her heart and veins like the “Hallelujah Chorus.” She tingled all over and hoped she wasn’t going to embarrass herself by needing medical attention. “You’re not walking this time?”
“I tried. After that first day, I tried.” His lips quirked. “You tracked me down.”
“Oh.” Unable to come up with anything more emotionally intelligent, she wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned into him, her ear pressed against his heart.
If it was possible, his heartbeat paced even faster than hers. He was as nervous and scared and unsure as she was. She wanted to laugh.
“I’m not walking, either.” She spoke softly but knew he’d heard when his arms tightened reflexively.
Except she did have to walk away, in reality if not metaphorically. She had responsibilities. Welcome ones.
He skimmed his hands up her arms to cup her face and leaned in for a kiss. This one was sweet and held promises of days and nights and moments shared.
When he pulled away, she fluttered her eyes open, swaying on the step. She’d taken hold of his wrists at some point. Now she laid a kiss on one of his palms before turning and retreating to her car on unsteady legs.
She tried not to look back—this wasn’t a permanent good-bye—but she watched him grow smaller in the rearview mirror as a tear slipped out. Even a temporary parting was like losing a vital internal organ. Maybe her heart.
* * *
The week passed in fits and starts. The days flew by as she worked every aspect of the burgeoning business, keeping in close contact with Joyce and Madeline and Allison. The nights made up for the quick days, the seconds ticking away like a clock whose battery was run down.
Lying in bed with the moonlight wavering ghostly shadows on the ceiling, she listened to the night sounds from the cracked window. The continuity from childhood offered a shot of peace to her restlessness. Although things were changing at warp speed, some things stayed the same, like the push and pull of the moon on the tides.
Sleep eluded her, and she pulled her phone closer, the screen blank.
RU up? She tapped in.
Only a few seconds passed.