Flatterer. You’re probably busy taking all your friends’ money at poker. He added a laughing emoji.
There were cards earlier. But apparently we’re getting old and a day on the slopes means early to bed. Now I’m all by my lonesome on the couch. I found an emoji that was close enough to puppy dog eyes and hit Send.
The couch? You didn’t take the bed?
I stretched my legs out on the couch, trying to pretend it was a comfortable fit for a night’s sleep. Max brought a date. Seemed only fair to let them have the bed. Besides I would have been all lonely without you to come visit me.
Poor Calder. No midnight kisses. Felix was apparently in a flirty mood, which I could work with. I licked my lips before replying.
If you really feel sorry for me, you’ll tell me which night this week you could do dinner.
Hmm. About that... Felix didn’t finish the thought, which had me frowning to the empty room. The low light from the woodstove kept reminding me of Felix reading stories and made me miss him that much more.
Felix. We’ve been over this. We’re friends. And I want Thai this week.
To my surprise, his reply came super fast. Me too. But I can do you one better if you’re free Friday or Saturday. I’ll cook for you. My stepmother is taking the girls to Vancouver.
Oh hell yes. A weekend with only Felix. As much as I did like the girls, I liked the sound of this even more. My fingers flew to try to get a response before he changed his mind.
Both. I’m free both nights. Want to head to the cabin?
Felix’s reply opened with a sad face. Can’t. I’m on call again. But I could meet you at the ferry Friday and make us something nice for dinner?
Yeah, I could do that. I slapped my thigh. It’s okay. I’m stoked to get an invite to your house. Please say there’s a sleepover involved.
That earned me an eye-rolling emoji and an even better response. There’s a sleepover involved.
Knew I loved you. Wait. I couldn’t text that. I meant it in the casual love you, man sense. I loved cards and spicy food and good beer and my friends. Of whom Felix was one. But I didn’t love him.
I inhaled sharply. I liked him. A lot. I thought about him all the time, and I didn’t mind admitting that I missed him. I wanted to keep our friendship going, sure. But love? That would be all kinds of complicated, and neither of us wanted that, especially Felix. So, no, I couldn’t text that.
Instead, I erased and retyped. Sounds awesome. See you then.
There. That was better. We could have fun, but feelings were absolutely not part of my plan.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Calder
“You brought a toolbox on the ferry?” Felix narrowed his eyes at me as I tossed my stuff in back before sliding into the passenger seat. He was parked in the pickup lane near the ferry, and he’d evidently come straight from work if the tie was any judge. We’d texted or talked on the phone every night that week, but seeing him in person was damn nice. I’d forgotten how hot he looked dressed up.
“Yeah, I brought tools.” I shrugged because I’d seen far stranger things on the ferry over the years. Felix had insisted that I keep the drill and other things I’d bought for the cabin, and it wasn’t like they got a ton of use in my room at the barracks. “I wasn’t sure what you had at your place, and depending on what we end up doing to your pantry and closet, I figured the drill might come in handy.”
“I’m not sure whether to crack a joke about things that need drilling at my house or sit in shocked silence that you were serious about organizing things for me.” His chuckle had a dazed edge to it.
“Of course I was serious.” It occurred to me a little too late that maybe he was not and he might not want someone poking around his stuff. “Wait. Do you not want to?”
“Oh I want to.” He leaned across the console to brush a kiss across my lips. “Home repair is my second-favorite thing to do with you.”
Reassured, I tried to pull him back. “How about another of those?”
Honk. The car behind Felix was apparently even more impatient than us.
“Oops.” Felix put the SUV in drive. “At my place. Promise.”
“You better.” I settled back for the drive to Queen Anne, a picture-book perfect neighborhood of old but stately homes that went for bonkers prices because of the area’s proximity to downtown.
I liked it when Felix drove. As much as I considered myself a car guy and loved mine, I enjoyed being able to relax, let someone I trusted worry about Seattle traffic. Soon enough we arrived at a two-story mid-century brick home with a bright blue door on a nice corner lot. He parked around back, near the detached garage, and we entered through the kitchen door.
The main floor was bright and open, dominated by a modern kitchen with dark cabinets and gleaming counters. A long breakfast bar looked like a fun spot for the girls to hang out and a little dining alcove with a black table was already set for two. The restaurant-worthy stove was likely capable of far more than pancakes, unlike the tiny older model at the cabin.
I whistled low as I set my stuff down near an antique hutch. “This is nice. Whoever did the kitchen renovation must have had fun.”
“I hired most of it out, sadly. And the remodel isn’t done.” Frowning, he hung his jacket on a hook near the back door on a rack crowded with kid coats and bags and random items. I put my own coat on the last available space as Felix continued, “Having to buy Tim out of the house and cabin means that the lower level is a mishmash of decades and styles. And the master bath is lovely, but the one the girls share still needs to join this century.”
“I could help.”
“Maybe.” He gave me a tight smile that said he wouldn’t take me up on the offer but that he was trying to avoid a lengthy discussion about what type of friends we were. I’d just have to convince him later that we were totally the type of friends who helped paint or tile.
“Maybe,” I echoed far brighter as I followed him on into the kitchen.
“And I’m sorry for the mess.” He gave a sweeping gesture to encompass a housekeeping style my dad would have jokingly called “there appears to have been a struggle.” Primary-colored bins in the dining area overflowed with kid art supplies while a doll family appeared to have taken over part of the leather sectional. Legos were scattered across the coffee table, and someone had left a cereal bowl on an end table. “I tried to pick up before we left for school and work, but a backpack emergency took precedence.”
“I love it when you use big words, Doc.” I pulled him close for quick kiss. And he felt so damn nice that I kept right on holding him. “Don’t worry about any mess. I like a lived-in place. Makes it feel like a real home.”