Oh, maybe some late-night cookies. Fuck, those peanut butter cookies were so damn good.
But she doesn’t stop in the kitchen; she moves to the back sliding glass door and moves outside, leaving the door cracked behind her.
The urge to follow her is enough that I’m moving even before I really register it, but I stop at the door, watching her move through the yard.
She needs a minute; I know that. It’s why she left and tried to act like nothing was wrong.
I should give her a minute, but fuck, I really don’t want to.
She looks lost, wandering until she reaches the far side of the yard. For a solid minute, she just stands there looking up at the sky, standing under the stars, before she finally seems to register the cold. Wrapping her arms around herself, she rubs at her arms before she moves over and all but collapses on the outdoor couch near the firepit.
That gives me an idea.
With a deep breath, I steady myself and turn away from the window, hurrying through the house to grab what I need.
I can’t fix everything for her right now. We don’t have Carter; he slipped through our fingers, but we will. I’d give her thefucking moon from the sky if she asked for it, no matter what it is or how hard it is to obtain.
She’s worth it.
She’s wortheverything.
It takes me a few minutes as I run around like a madman, every second feeling like too much time with her out of my sight.
I’m not quiet when I slide the glass door open. Instead of the door near the kitchen, I chose the one in the lounge, which is much closer to the fire pit. The second my eyes land on her, I feel relief flood me before my heart squeezes at the sight of her cheeks stained with tears.
Creative for sure.
I wonder if there’s a way to look up ways to torture people without leaving a footprint. I’ll have to remember to ask Vince later. I’m sure he’ll be happy to help me; he usually is, even without a good reason.
The second she sees me, she rubs at her face in a desperate but useless attempt to hide her tears.
I don’t like that either, but we can work on that.
I move around the couch to set the tray on the table before I walk around the back of the couch and shove one of my sweaters over her head, making her squeak in surprise and give me a dirty look when I free her. But I see the way her lip twitches, and I know she’s not really mad. I mean, how could she be angry at a face like this?
“What? You looked cold.” I tell her with a sweet smile that makes her roll her eyes. I drape the blanket across her lap and watch the way she snuggles into it.
Yeah, definitely cold.
I’m glad I took a second before rushing after her. It’s not in my nature to think things through, but for Kat, I do because she deserves only the best.
Phase two.
I move to the firepit and find the knob to turn it on, and in seconds, we have a beautiful, warm fire roaring for us.
“Oh, you don’t have to do all that, Des. We can go in.” She tries to stop me, but I wave her off. This might not have been the plan, but it’s a beautiful night, and I can see she needs this, which means I do too.
“Too late, we’re already out here, and now I’ve got a craving, so...” I shrug as I move back to the table and see her brows pull in confusion.
“A craving?”
“Mhmm.”
“For what?”
I don’t answer; instead, I turn around with a skewer in each hand, a marshmallow on both ends.
“S’mores, of course.”
