“She should be happy she’s getting a grandchild. Heaven knows I was never going to give her one.” And I was damn tired of hearing about it at every family event, every barbecue, every holiday party.
“You’ll make a good mother one day,” Gran says.
“I’m almost forty, Gran. If I don’t jump on it soon, it’ll be too late.”
I’ve never really thought much about kids. I’ve never dreamed of a nursery or pored over baby books, preparing for my life with kids. I never get dreamy-eyed when I see a baby at the mall. And I damn sure never volunteer to babysit my friends’ kids.
“Speaking of jumping on it,” Gran says slyly, “did you bring any pretty lingerie with you?”
“Gran, I didn’t even bring regular clothes. I bought t-shirts at the tackle shop on the corner.”
“You wore a t-shirt from the tackle shop on your date?”
“I sure did.” I smile to myself. “And it was the best date ever.”
“What made it so fantastic, Abigail?”
It’s hard to explain. “I don’t know,” I say slowly, taking the time to think. “We just talked, and we laughed, and we never ran out of things to say. I made that special chicken you taught me to make.”
“What did he think?”
He didn’t say. “He ate it all and then finished what was left on my plate.”
“See, he’ll be the man that’ll finish your party mix pickings. I’m telling you.”
I hear a knock on my front door and tell Gran really quickly, “Somebody’s at my door.”
“It’s him, and he’s come back to get that kiss he forgot.” She laughs. “Call me if you need me,” she says. Then she hangs up.
I pad on my bare feet to the front door. I’m wearing one of the tackle shop t-shirts and a pair of my old shorts I found in a drawer. They are about four inches too short, so I reach down and pull them out of my crotch. I open the door and find Ethan standing there.
“Hi again. Did you forget something?” I cross my arms in front of my chest because I’m not wearing a bra.
“I did. I forgot to say thank you,” he replies as he leans there in the threshold, one shoulder propped against the jamb. His eyes do a slow slide down my body that makes the hair on my arms stand up. “Thank you for dinner,” he says, and he grins. And he’s so damn cute that I lose my breath for a second.
“You’re very welcome,” I reply.
Wilbur waddles past him and into the living room, where he starts to wander around, quacking all the while. “Wilbur’s going to get himself a girlfriend tomorrow,” Ethan says.
“A girlfriend?” I look at Wilbur and back to Ethan.
“There’s a girl duck that’s hanging out in the lake. He was very interested in her today when I took him swimming.”
“Do you think he’ll throw you over to go get the girl duck?” That will break Ethan’s heart. I know he pretends like the duck is a nuisance, but he loves his little nuisance.
“I figure she can teach him to be a duck, since he seems to think he’s human.” He shrugs. “Plus, he needs to learn how to fly south or do whatever it is they do during the winter. I figure the duck can teach him better than I can. That is, if he can make friends with her. He might be socially awkward, go on a first date with her, and be too scared to kiss her before he leaves for the night.”
I grin, aware that we’re not talking about the duck. “You think he’s too scared?”
“I know he is. He’s so scared he can’t even think. It’s been a long time since he’s held a woman in his arms.” He reaches a hand toward me and tucks that wild lock of hair behind my ear. “It’s been ages since he’s felt soft skin, or warm lips, or had anybody’s hair tickle his chest.”
“Are we still talking about the duck?” I whisper. All the hairs on my arms are standing straight up, so I lift my hands to run them up and down my forearms.
“We’re not talking about the duck,” he says, his words succinct. “Thank you for dinner.” He leans forward and hovers, his mouth just barely above mine, his breath mingling with mine, but his lips not touching me. “I want to kiss you so bad,” he says. Then he pulls away with a groan. He runs a hand through his hair. “I told myself I wasn’t going to do this. I told myself I was just going to come over here and thank you for dinner.”
“How’s that working for you?” I can’t bite back my grin.
“Not working worth a damn,” he says, and he grins too. Then he does it. He presses a quick kiss against my lips. It’s over far too soon, and I lean forward so I can chase him with my mouth. He groans, grabs my shoulders, and pushes me away. “I can’t. Not yet.”
“When?” I ask. I am absolutely filled with…need.
“When you know everything there is to know about me, and you get a chance to choose whether or not you still want me.” He suddenly loses his grin. “I’m afraid you’ll hate me, like everyone else does. And I wouldn’t be able to stand it if you hate me too, Abigail.” He tucks that flyaway lock behind my ear again.
I grab it and lift it in front of my eyes. “I’m going to chop this lock of hair off.”
“Please don’t.” He smiles. “It gives me an excuse to touch you.”
“You could just tell me whatever I need to know. Right now. I don’t think you could say anything that will change my mind about you.”
He shakes his head, a small frown worrying his features. “As I’ve told you before, I want you to be in like with me for a little bit longer. I’m not in a hurry to give that up.”
I reach out to touch his face, but he catches my hand, places a swift kiss on my palm, and then pushes it down between us.
He gives me a sincere look, as if opening his soul. “I’ve never needed anyone to like me, not the way that I need you. I’m so scared you’ll hate me. It was a stupid mistake, but there were so many consequences.”
I step forward and press my body against his, just as I lift my lips to his. I kiss him, and he kisses me back, his lips soft but firm, and he wraps his arms around me, his hands roaming my back, where they explore in circles as I kiss him.
Suddenly, he growls and sets me away from him. My eyes come open slowly, like I’m lifting from a daze, and my body rocks back toward him. “Thank you for dinner,” he says again. He grins and tucks that errant lock of hair behind my ear.
Then he turns and walks away. I stand in the doorway, startled only slightly when Wilbur knocks into my shin in his haste to follow Ethan out the door.
“You’re welcome,” I call out, finally finding my wits. He lifts a hand to wave at me, but he doesn’t turn back. I continue to watch long after he disappears from my sight.
16
Ethan
On Saturday, I walk down to the little free library that no one has used since the campground cleared out. I have two romance novels to leave in it for Abigail. I shuffle through what’s in there, just in case there’s something new that someone has left. I smile to myself when I find two comic books. I know she left them here because no one else I know would leave a comic book in a little free library. I grab them and stuff them into my back pocket, and I leave the romance novels for her. I drop the comic books off at my tent so I can read them later.