Leif sits on the sofa, elbows on his knees, and head clutched in his hands. “Malena, let’s not talk about it, okay? It’s nothing. What makes you think I want sexual favors?”
“It’s nothing?” I retort, the pitch of my voice increasing as I continue, “How can you say that what you did is nothing?”
“Sexual favors?” he mutters again, ignoring my question, yet demanding a response.
I swallow hard. “That was a joke mostly because it’s the only way I can repay you for your kindness. That’s all. You’re either the most generous man alive if you consider this nothing, or you’re downplaying it because you don’t want things to get weird.”
He doesn’t look up. “Go shower. I’ll make some breakfast. You must be hungry.” At the reminder of food, my stomach grumbles. “Saying it’s nothing doesn’t mean it’s not important. It just means it doesn’t affect me. The money is a non-issue. Do you understand?” His gaze finally rises to meet mine. “I don’t want anything as repayment. Not money, and definitely not sexual favors. Just so we’re clear. I wasn’t aware you were into prostitution, though.”
Oh. He’d told me living the single life did very good things for his bank account. Bonuses and home sales and paychecks that couldn’t be spent while overseas added up over the years. I guess I never connected those dots. I wince. “I understand, but I still think it matters. It means something to me.” I cross one foot over the other. “I’d be your prostitute,” I try to joke, but only a small corner of his mouth pulls up. “Only yours.” The other side pulls up, and he shakes his head.
Leif runs a hand over the scruff on his jaw. “It means something to me too. That’s why I did it,” he says, standing and brushing past me to enter the kitchen. I hear banging as he triesto find a pan, and I don’t make a move to help him. I watch him, this big, beautiful man who has shown me his heart.
“This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me before,” I deadpan.
Leif stops, a frying pan in his hand, and turns back to look at me. He opens his mouth to say something, then closes it again. The tears rise in my eyes, and I don’t want to cry again, lest it come across as ungrateful, so I hold up one finger and excuse myself to the shower. I let the hot water wash off the past two days. My mom is fine. My life can change. There is a man who cares for me cooking for me in my kitchen right now. There has to be something to be said about this. The general store job was only so I could pay for Mom’s occasional night nurse, a person I no longer need. I can be a full-time party planner now. Just last week I turned down a job because I couldn’t fit it into my insane schedule. Maybe I will still keep my gig at the store to try to pay back Leif, little by little. That would be the right thing, but I don’t want him to be upset if I try to offer him money.
For the first time in a long time, I have time. Time for myself. At the cost of my family, though.
Once I’m scrubbed clean, I throw on a tank top and shorts and steel myself for Leif and the wall of sexual desire that hits anytime I’m in his vicinity. The wall that did, in fact, leave room for my mom to escape our house in the middle of the night.
There are two plates on the table when I come out. Eggs, toast, blueberries, and avocado, all separated in perfect fourths on the plates. He’s opened the curtains to let light in, and the space already has a fresh energy running through it. He interrupts my thoughts,.
“Here’s the thing, Malena. You can’t constantly thank me for everything. You’re welcome and all, because that’s the polite thing to say, but I need you to drop it from here on out. You asked me for help, and I helped.” He heaves his shoulders upand down. “Consider it the universe repaying you for all the slack you had to pick up when your dad left, but let’s build something from the ground up, not on Garden Breeze, money, or broken wrists. Is that a possibility?” he asks, leaning on a dining chair, clear blue eyes earnest, relieved he’s finally spoken the piece he’s been forming since my shower began.
“I won’t forget it, but I won’t talk about it, if that’s what you want. It changes a lot for me, and it’s going to take a lot of getting used to. I want to build something with you Leif. More than I’ve ever wanted anything else. You’re the first thing I’ve ever let myself desire to this…degree.” I sit down, keeping my gaze distracted with the breakfast plate. “My life has taught me to keep my expectations low. Self-preservation and all that.” He must understand that. Leif has told me of the sacrifices he’s had to make over the years. Creature comforts are zilch when you’re overseas living in a dirty hut for months at a time.
Leif sits down next to me, picking up his fork. “I’m here. I want to be here,” Leif says, pausing, waiting for me to meet his bewitching eyes. When I do, he goes on, “Set your expectations higher. I have.”
Grinning, I stop any sort of word vomit from arriving by shoving toast in my face. It makes him laugh. If I’m selecting expectations for myself, then I want Leif. All to myself forever. I want to keep his kindness in my pocket as a defense mechanism against the cruel world. I want him to only ever want me in return. His emotion-filled gazes. His touches filled with fire. All of him. He seems to know what I’m thinking, which I hope isn’t true, or I’d crumble under the weight of my own desires.
Leif licks his lips and tips up his chin as he surveys me, watching him. “What should we do today?” he asks.
“We?” I blurt out, my mouth full of food. “You have work.”
“There wasn’t anything going on in the office today. They don’t need me. We’re skydiving tomorrow, so I wanted to makesure your first day…alone, well, wasn’t really alone. What do you want to do today? I figured we could do something now and then visit your mom later on this afternoon. That’s when there’s free time and when most guests visit.” He backtracks. Almost as if he doesn’t want me to know how much he knows. “I think that’s what they said when I called. You can call to check and be sure.”
I choke on the bread sticking to the roof of my mouth. Banging a fist on my chest, I make an exaggerated unpleasant noise. “Are you even real?” I ask. “I slept for fifteen hours and am time warped. Maybe I’m still sleeping.” Pinching myself on the arm, I sit back in my chair. “Definitely awake. You’re definitely real.” I shake my head.
“Touch me. Find out for sure,” he growls, chewing slowly, eyes on mine. Oh, the ways in which I want to touch him.
We both eat, looking at each other, back and forth, like a game of wits. “Please tell me I’m not some charity case. This bubble is going to pop when you realize you can’t fix me.” I’m half joking, but Leif’s smile falls from his face completely.
Swallowing food, he pauses, then says, “Who said I wanted to fix you?”
“That’s what people like you do.”
Leif scoffs. “People like me?”
“The perfect ones,” I say.
He shakes his head. “I’m so far from perfect, the word isn’t even in my vocabulary. I don’t think you need to fix anything about yourself, Malena.” Leif puffs out his chest and stretches a bit. “It seems you’re not used to others helping you.”
The father-sized lump in my heart pounds a bit, a jagged reminder. “You’re right,” I say, casting my gaze downward.
“And all my family does is help. Even when I don’t want it, but that’s the price I pay. When I’m far from home, they send care packages filled with my favorite things—trying to make my life easier and more comfortable.” He pauses, and I try to putmyself in his shoes, shoes that seem gilded in comparison to the tattered ones I’ve been forced to wear. “They moved to be closer to me when I decided to make Bronze Bay my permanent residence. Mom has always wanted to retire in Florida, so it wasn’t a crazy stretch, but that’s just another example of how we help each other.”
“I’m not your family though,” I say, narrowing my eyes. “Why me?”
