The wall clockseemed to move at a snail’s pace and her phone remained quiet.Tilly hadn’t been able to get too much done after she arrived home from her meeting with Zach.She couldn’t get his exhausted features out of her mind and she worried about him getting home.They hadn’t had any snow, but that didn’t make the roads any less treacherous.
“I should’ve followed him,” she muttered as she stirred the Asian chicken soup she’d made for dinner.She figured if he came after eight, he wouldn’t want a heavy meal, like steak and a baked potato.The soup was flavorful and one of her favorites.Hopefully, he would like it.
The timer on her stove buzzed and she opened it, stepping back to let the waft of hot air escape.The aroma of freshly cooked bread filled the room—there really wasn’t a better smell.One day she’d learn to make it herself, but until then, the bake-at-home sort suited her perfectly.
The bread probably wouldn’t be hot by the time Zach arrived, but it would still be crusty on the outside and soft on the inside, and that was all that mattered.
She glanced at the clock again.The big hand had inched nearer to the twelve, showing that it was getting closer and closer to eight—the time she estimated he would call or text her to let her know he was headed in her direction.
Of course, she could be way off, and he could still be sleeping.Even though he’d said he could get away with three hours’ sleep, after the way he’d walked out of the conference room, blinking rapidly as if willing himself to stay awake, she wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t sleep all the way through until the next morning.
Everything was ready, and if he didn’t end up coming, well, then she’d enjoy the meal she’d made, and then she would tackle the task of bringing her vision to life.
A knock sounded, filling her small house, and she almost dropped the bread.Setting it down, she wiped her hands on the apron she wore and headed to the front door.After peeking through the peephole, she stepped back, surprised to see Zach standing on her doorstep.
“I thought you were going to let me know you were on your way,” she announced the second she opened her front door.
“Whoa!”Zach held up his hands in surrender.“I did.I called, but it went straight to voicemail.I thought you may have been talking to someone else, so I sent a text as well.”
“You did?”Tilly stepped back for Zach to enter while racking her brain to try to work out why she wouldn’t have heard the tone to signify an incoming message.Or why his call would’ve gone to her voicemail.
He stepped past her and she caught a whiff of his aftershave—piney and fresh, like a Christmas tree farm.One of her favorite smells.There was nothing better than the aroma of a fresh Christmas tree, and she couldn’t wait to get hers.After Thanksgiving, though.
“Something smells good,” he said as she closed the door.
“It’s nothing special.Just soup and bread, but let me check my phone.I don’t get why I didn’t know you were on your way.”
Tilly left him standing in the hallway while she rushed into the kitchen and grabbed her purse from the hook she’d hung it on.Rummaging through it, she pulled her phone out and tapped the screen, but it remained blank, not lighting up to indicate that it was waking up.
She tapped it again with the same result.
“I think your battery is dead,” Zach said quietly behind her, and she gripped her phone as the sound of his voice shivered down her spine.It was deep and husky, and she wanted him to lean closer and whisper sweet nothings in her ear.
Concentrate, Tilly.
“I guess you’re right,” she said.“I should plug it in.”
“Might help.”
She rolled her eyes.“You think?”
Zach shrugged, his brown eyes sparkling with humor.“Won’t know unless you try.”
Tilly laughed and plugged her phone in, waiting to see if the phone’s icon would show up on the screen.
“It’s going to need to be about five percent charge before you see anything,” he murmured over her shoulder, again bringing vivid images of him doing more than just talking to her.
Goodness, she needed to get control of her thoughts.Why was she acting this way when they’d had a conversation only a few hours ago and her body had given no indication that anything Zach said could turn her into a melty mush of romantic dreams?
She took a step to the side, because if she stepped back, she’d run into his chest and that wouldn’t be a good thing at all.
Or it could be.
Tilly ignored the little devil on her shoulder.“How about I get dinner sorted?Take a seat.”She pointed to her small kitchen table.
While she filled bowls and cut the bread, she was aware of Zach behind her.Could feel his eyes on her, watching her every move.Somehow she managed to get the bowls of soup on the table without dropping them or spilling their contents all over the surface—and Zach.
“Can I get you something to drink?I’ve got water, juice, soda, and I think I even have a beer if you want that.”
