We work together silently to finish the rest of the dishes and clean up the kitchen, and I can’t help but notice the space Odette keeps putting between us, like she’s afraid to get close to me. I both hate it and love it.
Love it because I really shouldn’twantto be so close to her. There’s no reason to be.
But I hate it because, well ... Idowant to be close to her.
I try to push it out of my head while I put the last of the dishes away, then give the counters a good wipe down. It’s overkill, but my parents have taken care of me my whole life. This is the least I can do to repay them.
By the time we’re done, it’s pushing eight, and I’m beat.
Apparently, so is Odette. She lets out a big yawn, which only makesmeyawn.
“Knock it off,” I tell her.
“Sorry,” she says through a second one. “I didn’t get much sleep last night. Beans thought it would be a good idea to dig her paws into my stomach at three in the morning. Then again at four. She’s lucky she’s cute.”
“I hear you. Tootsie starts waking me up every morning around five to get her feed. She is not so cute. Just lucky I don’t put chicken on the menu at the cidery.”
“Noah! Stop threatening to eat your pets!”
“She’s not a pet.”
“She has a name. She’s a pet.”
I don’t continue arguing with her, because it’s no use.
I hitch my thumb toward the back door. “I’m telling the parents bye, then heading out. You staying?”
“No. I have to get up early tomorrow for breakfast, so I’ll go with you. Just let me grab my”—she swallows thickly—“purse.”
I almost forgot about her underwear. Almost completely let the whole incident from the other day slip from my mind.
But now ... now it’s back, right in the forefront.
Pale-pink lace. Red hearts. A matching bow.
Fuck. When am I going to stop thinking about that? When am I going to move on? It’s been days at this point. There’s no reason for me to still be hung up on them. To be hung up onher.
Odette comes back into the kitchen, purse tucked tightly under her arm, avoiding all eye contact with me.
Guess I’m not the only one still thinking about it.
“Let me guess,” my mother says, pushing to her feet as we walk out onto the patio, “you’re heading out?”
“Sorry, Mom. I have an early morning. The farm doesn’t take care of itself.”
“My baby boy, the farmer.” She shakes her head with a smile. “Never thought I’d see it.”
“Me either.” I wrap my arms around her, giving her a quick hug, then kiss her cheek. “I’ll see you next weekend.”
“Boy, you’d better see me before that.”
I chuckle at the warning in her tone. “Yes, ma’am.”
I move on to Elaine, then my dad.
“Let me know if you want me to take a look at that nose,” he says in my ear. “Be our little secret.”
I nod. “Thanks, Pops.”
