Carter is rinsing his plate in the sink. The dishwasher is open, and he’s loading his breakfast dishes inside.
“Morning.” He glances in my direction and gives me the briefest of smiles before turning his attention back to the dish.
He’s paying attention to it as if he’s performing brain surgery, and my stomach twists that we’re back here again. He regrets and wishes the kiss hadn’t happened.
“I made some extra pancakes.” He puts the plate in the dishwasher.
I glance toward the stove, and there’s a plate with a stack of pancakes. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
The butter and maple syrup are already on the table, so I make my way to the stove. Neither Carter nor I says a word as I pick up the plate, walk over to the cutlery drawer to grab a fork and knife, and sit at the table. Carter is busy wiping the counters, diverting all eye contact with me.
Maybe he’s as nervous as I am about how the other feels about our kiss last night. Perhaps the best thing to do is to act normal and show him that I don’t regret it.
“Did you have a good time last night?” I unscrew the top on the maple syrup bottle and pour the sweet goodness over my pancakes.
He clears his throat and turns on the faucet to run the cloth under it. “Yeah, it was a good time. Though I hadn’t planned on getting tipsy on eggnog nor stripping in front of most of Mistletoe Falls.”
Is that his way of signaling that he was drunk last night and that’s why he kissed me?
“Yeah, me either. Well, the eggnog, not the stripping.”
Neither of us says anything, and I hate how awkward this feels. I’m about to tell him when my phone rings in my pocket. I pull it out and see a number I don’t recognize, but that’s not uncommon these days with all the wedding stuff I’ve been working on, so I answer it.
“Hello?”
“Can I speak with Ashley, please?” an older gentleman’s voice asks.
“This is Ashley.” I glance at Carter, who’s rooting around under the sink to get the dishwasher detergent out to start the dishwasher.
“This is Thomas McCleary. I hear you’re the one who’s going to be picking up some chairs for your sister’s wedding.”
I straighten in my seat. God, I hope there’s not a problem with the chairs. I know my sister has her heart set on them. “Yes, is there a problem?”
“Well… I hope not. I wanted to see if you could come tomorrow to grab the chairs instead of waiting a few days. My wife is having an unexpected surgery the day after next, so I won’t be here the day you were supposed to come.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that. I’ll have to call the place I’m renting the truck from and make sure they have one available tomorrow, but I don’t think it will be a problem.”
He sighs in relief. “I really appreciate it, thank you.”
“Of course. If there’s an issue, I’ll call you back. Otherwise, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
We say our goodbyes, and I rest the phone on the table.
“What was that all about?” Carter asks, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. His body language is not even close to open and relaxed.
“I have to pick up the chairs tomorrow. Does that work for you?” I’m going to need his help. Truth is, I’m hoping he’ll drive the truck since I’ve never driven anything that big.
“Guess I’m going to have to make it work, won’t I?”
Irritation flares inside me. Annoyance comes next. I’m tired of guessing where his head is. We need to be adults and have a conversation about the kiss.
“Carter, can we talk about?—”
“I’ve got to jump on a work call.” He pushes off the counter.
My hands tighten around my knife and fork as he leaves the kitchen, offering me his back. He won’t even have a conversation about last night?
My cheeks heat because I feel like a fool. Apparently, I’m the only one who feels such a strong connection between us. I thought I’d figured out who Carter is, but maybe my first impression of him was the right one.
