“Oh, Sally Henson’s little girl. She’s turning three tomorrow.”
“Are you staying busy with your cakes and pies and whatnot?” I ask, pulling up a stool at the island. I’ve been so lost in my world of studying that I feel like I’ve been neglecting them.
“I am. I’ve even had to turn people away, and you know I hate that.”
“That’s great. I’m so happy for you. I know you were nervous starting up your own business, but you’re doing amazing.”
“Don’t go making me blush.” She smiles warmly.
“Are you sure there isn’t anything that I can help you with?”
“No. You work too much as it is.”
“I’m taking a break, remember,” I remind her.
“Yes, and do you know what taking a break means?” She raises her eyebrows, making me laugh.
“Fine, but I feel useless. It’s been a really long time since I’ve been able to just sit with nothing to do.”
“Well, I do need to drop this cake off and run to the store for supplies. Would you like to ride along?”
“I’m your girl, Gran.”
“That you are.” She smiles. We spend the next twenty minutes chatting while she finishes the cake. I miss being home.
“Thank you for your help. I’m going to box this up, and I’ll be ready.” She points to the bear cake.
“It’s too cute.” I smile at her before dashing up the stairs.
“This is a haul,” I tell Grams as we pull into the driveway. The entire back of her van is full of baking supplies. After delivering the cake, we made her weekly run for supplies. I didn’t expect the van to be loaded to max capacity. I was thinking a couple bags of flour and sugar, but no, we bought fifty-pound bags instead.
“I know.” She grins.
“Is it like this every time you go shopping for supplies?”
“It is.”
“I hate that you’re lugging all this by yourself.”
“Oh, I don’t. Not usually. Rip usually stops by to help. Your grandfather swears he didn’t put him up to it, but I’m not sure if I believe him.”
“How does he know when you go?”
“Well, I’m somewhat a creature of habit. I always go shopping on Wednesday afternoons. I hate going at the beginning or at the end of the week and definitely not on weekends. The store is always packed.”
Climbing out of her van, she opens the back, just as an old pickup truck comes barreling up the driveway. I stop and stare as Rip, in his faded blue jeans and sleeveless T-shirt, steps out of the truck and heads our way.
“Miss Agnes, you weren’t planning on doing this without me, were you?” he asks, placing his hands on his hips.
“No.” She waves him off. “Mac went with me today, so I was able to finish earlier than I usually do.”
“I was watching for you,” he tells her.
“Rip, I’ve told you I can handle this. I hate interrupting your workweek.”
“It’s fine. I do mostly paperwork on Wednesdays, and I can see you drive by from my office window.” He winks at her, and she smiles.
“You’re a good man, Rip Callahan,” Gram says, patting him on the back.
Rip ducks under the back of the van, careful not to hit his head. “Kenna,” he greets me. His voice is deep and husky and causes every single part of me to melt for him. Seriously, if I was ice cream, I’d be a puddle on the ground, and it has nothing to do with the Texas heat.
“Rip.”
He winks at me, then begins to unload an armful of supplies and carry them into the house. With his help, it only takes three trips for each of us, with Rip carrying the majority of the load.
“Well, ladies, I need to get back to work.”
“Thank you for your help. These are for you.” Gram hands him a small container of something.
“Thank you. I have last week's container out in the truck.”
Gram waves him off. “I’ll get it some other time. You go on back to work. I appreciate your help.”
“Have a good day,” he tells her before turning his eyes to me. “Kenna, why don’t you walk me out and I can give you that container?”
“Sure,” I say, falling into step behind him.
“It’s been a few days since I’ve seen you.”
“Yeah, I’ve been studying nonstop. Gram and Gramps actually forced me to take a break this afternoon.”
He nods. “I was hoping to get to spend more time with you now that you’re home.”
“I’m sure I’ll see you around.” It sounds like I’m brushing him off, but I’m not. I just need to process what all this new attention from him is. I mean I know what he says it is, but it’s hard for me to grasp. It’s confusing. On Saturday, when he drove me home from our day at the lake, he patted the seat next to him. I rode there in the center all the way home. His hand was on my thigh, driving me crazy. He walked me to the door, hugged the shit out of me, and kissed me on the forehead before stepping back and making sure I got inside safe.
That’s the last I’ve seen of him. I don’t know what any of this means, and the girl in me who had daydreamed about these exact moments doesn’t have the guts to ask.
“Dinner tonight?” he asks.
“Sorry, I already made plans with Laramie.”
“My sister is stealing my time with you too,” he says softly.
“Another night?” I suggest. My voice quivers as my nerves take over. “Or not—” I stop talking when he steps in close.
“Anytime you want to see me, all you have to do is say the word. I’ll be there.”
My head tilts back as I stare up at him. “Tomorrow night?”
“My place. I’ll make us dinner.”
“Y-You don’t have to do that. We can go out.”
“Kenna.” He pushes my hair back off my shoulder. “I’m making you dinner.”
“Okay.”
“What time will you be finished studying?”
“Never.” I laugh nervously. “How about five?”
“Perfect. Come on over when you’re done.”
“Around five-thirty or six?” I suggest. I’ll definitely need time to freshen up.
“I’ll be ready for you. How about we eat at six? Will that give you time to change and do what you need to do?” He knows me so well.
I nod. “What can I bring?”
“Just you. Now give me a hug. I need to get back to work.” He pulls me into his chest and wraps his strong arms around me. I don’t hesitate to hug him back. I don’t know how many hugs like this I’ll get with him, so I’m taking what I can get. “Have fun tonight. Call me if you need a ride.”
“We will.”
With a wave, he’s back in his truck and driving away from me. I watch him until I can no longer see him. It’s not until I reach the door of the house that I realize I forgot the container. This should be fun to explain.
“Rip leave?” Gram asks.
“Yes.”
“Where’s the container?”
I look up to find her smirking. “He um… he thought he had it, but he didn’t.”