“Daphne … ” He whispers my name like a prayer, sweeping his thumb against my cheek.
His ability to form an actual word is impressive. All my brain can come up with is a long wow with a bunch of extra syllables and vowels. Thankfully, I don’t make this sound out loud.
I feel cherished, honored by his touch. It takes some restraint to resist yanking his mouth back to mine and devouring him.
With a groan, he releases me and drags a hand through his hair. His long exhalation is slow and controlled, as if he’s trying to regain his composure.
That’s a terrible idea when all I want is for him to continue ravishing me.
Someone knocks on my door, breaking us out of our lust-filled bubble.
“Go away,” I yell. Whoever is out there is dead to me. “I’m not home.”
Odin chuckles before leaning down to give me a chaste peck. “I think you’ve given yourself away. Should’ve kept quiet and maybe they’d have believed you.”
Dammit.
“Daphne? It’s Gaia. Are you okay?”
This is not the moment for a friendly chat with my boss. I stare at the unlocked door and wait for her to open it.
“I’m fine. Just out of the shower. Can I come find you in a couple minutes?”
“Sure. Nothing urgent. Wanted to see if you’d like to grab dinner.”
I don’t know if I do. Staring at Odin, I silently hope he’ll shake his head no or give me some sign I’ll be busy for the rest of the evening.
He gives me nothing, standing stock-still.
“Okay. I’ll be ready soon,” I tell Gaia through the closed door.
Odin’s shoulders slump a tiny fraction, and I immediately feel like I’ve made the wrong choice.
“I could tell her no,” I tell him quietly at the same time he murmurs, “Or you could have dinner with me.”
We both chuckle.
His hand tugs through his waves. “Sounds like a plan.”
I like Gaia, but I’m going to have to cancel. “I’ll text her.”
“Okay. Do you want my address? You’ll need to use the maps app on your phone because the road is hard to find. I’ve driven by it in the dark and it’s my own house.”
“Um … you mean dinner at your house?”
“Changed your mind?”
“No. I just don’t have a car anymore, remember?” I form my hands into claws and growl in a bad impression of a bear.
He laughs. “Right, of course. You can ride with me, then I’ll bring you home after.”
Or I could stay the night. Should I sneak my toothbrush into my purse? Wait, I don’t even have a purse. I could put it in my pocket. No, too visible. My bra might work, but what if we’re making out and he goes for my breasts and discovers my toothbrush? That would be weird.
This is why women carry purses. Bringing a backpack to dinner is strange.
“Daphne?” His voice breaks through my inner panic.
“Sorry.” I glance down and see the olive green of my work pants. “I’d like to shower and change first.”
“Sure. I can wait outside again.” He steps through the door before I say anything more.
I want to tell him to stay out of sight, but I realize I don’t know how long he sat on my porch earlier or who saw him. My instinct is to hide him from my coworkers, though why would it matter if they know I’m hanging out with him? Am I embarrassed to be seen with Odin? I should probably examine that impulse another time.
Wondering if I have time for a quick shower, I quickly jog to my bedroom. Deciding I do, I gather a pair of jeans and a black turtleneck out of my dresser. Nothing says let’s make out again like a well-covered neck. I replace the sweater with a V-neck white tee. Clean underwear and the one lacy bralette I own go on top of the pile of clothes in my arms. If this were a movie, I’d have a matching set of lingerie to slip into. However, this is real life. If I squint, the pink lace matches the floral pattern on my underwear, and does it really matter anyway? Do men care? Also, am I being presumptuous to imagine Odin seeing my undergarments?
I can’t believe we went from opposite sides of a fight to betting on the existence of an orchard to kissing in less than hour. I’ve never wanted to rip a man’s clothes off from a single kiss. Most of my previous experiences have been … nice with a certain warm up period of getting to know each other, almost methodical in their predictability. Not Odin’s kiss. He’s a match and my body is kindling. Whoosh! Engulfed in lust in less than a minute.
With my head still spinning, I have no idea what to anticipate. We could be married in a week or not speaking by Thanksgiving.
Marriage. Ha!
Reminds me I need to return Isaac’s text to congratulate him. With school visits, bear attacks, allergies, and playing amateur detective, I haven’t had time to reply.
My shower is speedy. I don’t have time to wash my hair or shave any bits—good thing I took care of all the important grooming yesterday.
I’m done and dressed in record time. With a sigh, I leave my toothbrush in its cup on the bathroom counter.
When we were teenagers, Isaac used to tell me the best way to be happy was to have low or zero expectations. At the time, I thought he was being dramatic and kind of depressing. Dreams and goals were what I clung to as we navigated our way into adulthood.
Again and again over the years, I’ve learned the truth of his advice.
Outside, I find Odin sitting on the steps, chatting with Gaia.
When he hears the door snick shut, he stands and faces me, turning his back to her.
With wide eyes and lips pressed tight together, she silently yet clearly communicates her thoughts on this tableau.
“Odin said you have other plans tonight.” She grins before he can turn his head and catch her smug expression. “We can totally reschedule for another time. In fact, we should have a girls’ night soon, watch a movie or something.”
In spite of her friendly tone, I’m suspicious. We’ve never hung out just the two of us. Girls’ night? She sounds like Kacey, which is hysterical because Gaia’s about as girly as I am.
“Uh, sure.”
“Sounds good. Nice to see you.” She addresses Odin. “Have fun!”
None of us move to leave. We can’t descend the stairs because she’s blocking them.
“Shall we go?” I step down off the porch.
Gaia catches on and moves out of the way.
I glance around. “Where’s the van?”
He points to a very nice black truck at the end of the road. “I didn’t need it today.”
“It’s kind of fancy,” I joke.
“Like my dog?” He opens my door for me.
“Exactly.”
“Beats the van. When you see Patsy, don’t tell her it kind of smells like a pig sty in there.”
It hits me: I’m going to his house. Goin’ to the holler. I feel like I’m being invited to a secret lair.
The reality is he lives down a dirt road in a log cabin surrounded by fields, gardens, and greenhouses. Unless he has a secret bunker, he really is a farmer and not a supervillain.
Chapter Twenty-One
Odin
After a brief tour of the gardens and greenhouses, I lead Daphne up to the porch. The reality of what I’ve done hits me. Not only did I kiss her, I casually invited her over to dinner like it’s something I do all the time. The opposite is true. I can’t think of the last time I had someone over for a meal. I don’t even feed the cousins who load the produce for the farmers’ markets and food pantries.