He takes a few bites of his steak, chewing pensively. “That could work. We can get some more businesses in town involved, and maybe some smaller businesses from around Dallas would be interested in joining. We can pose it as a marketing opportunity for the businesses so that they have an incentive to join. Not everyone feels the need to help other people like you do.”
Excitement builds in me as I pull my phone out of my pocket.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m looking up small businesses in the Dallas-Forth Worth area. I’ll compile a list tonight and call them tomorrow before my shift at the café starts.”
“There’s no stopping you when you put your mind to something, huh?”
“Nope.”
There go his beautiful dimples.
He takes both our plates into the kitchen and says over his shoulder, “How can I help you slow down a little?”
“I already told you. I don’t know how to shut my brain off.”
He sets the plates down, crosses the kitchen back over to me, and scoops me up into his arms with a smile. Laughter slips from my lungs, and I catch myself wondering when the last time was that I laughed like this. It’s been gradual, but as I’ve been removed from my life in San Francisco over the last three and half weeks, I’ve started to feel lighter and lighter.
“I think I can find a way to help.”
ChapterNineteen
Rhett
Olivia hoversover me as I pull the brownies out of the oven. Her warmth simultaneously comforts me and makes me uneasy.
I don’t know how I ended up cooking her dinner and baking her brownies. I’veneverdone anything like this for another human being, let alone a woman who isn’t even my girlfriend. Our whole relationship feels like it’s quickly getting out of hand. The more I try to wrangle things back in, the more things slip out of my control. It’s exhausting trying to keep my feelings in check, and my resolve to remain “just friends” is wearing thinner by the day.
Something changed that day we spent together after her panic attack. We both let each other in just a little bit, and I think we both realized it felt good. As much as I hate to admit it, Olivia’s presence lights me up, and damn it, I love the feeling. I can’t get enough of it, of her. Even if I should stay away, I can’t. Somehow that logic makes me feel better. This is all out of my control. Whatever might happen between us isn’t my fault. It isn’t me naively giving in to love again. It’s me making the best of the cards I’ve been dealt.
“I don’t know how you were blessed with the beautiful gift of being an expert baker, but I’m not complaining. Can we dig in now? The smell is killing me!”
I push her back with a smile. “These need to set for twenty minutes, or they’re going to be a mess.”
“That’s okay. I like my brownies to be like my life, a hot, gooey mess.”
“Your life is gooey?” I scrunch up my nose in disgust.
“I don’t know. It sounded better in my head.” She brushes past me to look in my freezer. “Do you have ice cream? Brownies need ice cream.”
I step in closer, pushing the freezer closed and ignoring the way her closeness makes my heart pound out of my chest. “You’re getting way too comfortable around here, but yes, I have ice cream. You can’t have brownies without it in my opinion.”
“I agree.” She returns to the table and picks up her phone, rattling off a list of businesses. “Do you think this is enough? I’m guessing there will be a few people who say no when I call, so I want to make sure we have a big enough list.”
“I think that will be perfect. We don’t want to overwhelm ourselves. We only have a few weeks to get this planned if we are going to do everything before you go back to San Francisco.” The words make my stomach drop, and I swear they have the same effect on Olivia because the determined spark in her eyes fades.
“Right, of course. I still have a little over two months left here though.” I’m pretty sure she’s talking more to herself than anyone at this point. “Do you think six weeks is enough time to plan everything?”
“I think that will work.”
“Then it’s settled. I’ll call everyone tomorrow and keep you updated. I can talk to Callie during my shift tomorrow too. I’m sure she’ll want to be involved, and we will probably need her help baking and prepping for the café’s part of the event.”
She sits down in her chair at the table with a huff. “Is it time to eat the brownies yet?”
“Let’s just sit for a little bit. We have at least fifteen more minutes until we can cut into the brownies.”
She pouts, and she looks so dang cute doing it that I can’t help myself as I reach out to her, pulling her from her chair and into my arms. “What are you doing?” She giggles. Her laughter is more intoxicating than any drug.
