With a slight tug to her hair, I make her tip her head back. “Who teased you?” We’ll start there.
She rolls her eyes. “My dad, for one. He told me how ugly it was often enough. Said I would never be able to go hunting. I would scare the animals away. Said no man would ever want to marry someone who looked as ridiculous as me.”
My heart nearly stops. What a fucking asshole.
We need a change of subject before I lose my temper, jump in my truck, and head over to her property to tell her father what I think of him.
I finally let go of her hair, walk around the island, and grab two bags of bread. “White or wheat, sweetheart?”
“You really don’t have to do this, Adam. I don’t want to eat your food. I’m fine.”
I narrow my gaze at her. “I’m not going to eat in front of you. That would be rude. If you don’t tell me what you want on your sandwich, I’m going to make it myself, and you won’t get to choose the ingredients. I might even mix ketchup and horseradish and spread it on really thick,” I joke.
Her cute face scrunches again. “Gross.”
“White or wheat?” I shake both bags again.
Two
Rebekah
* * *
It’s like stepping back in time. I’m mesmerized by this man. He was almost a man last time I saw him, but he’s broader, bigger, older. So attractive.
I had a crush on him when I was a kid, but it was childish. I wonder if he remembers. I used to sneak off and spend hours at the Gallant homestead because the boys were funny and kind. His parents fed me. That was huge. Sometimes, my only meal of the day came from their house.
My heart is racing as he looks at me. His brows are raised high as he jiggles the two bags of bread. I don’t want him to know how hungry I am, but he’s not dumb. I’m so skinny, it’s got to be obvious.
“White, please,” I whisper.
“Good girl.” He smiles with his perfect, white teeth. His beard is full and thick. I want to run my fingers through it. It was so soft against my neck when he hugged me.
I hated it when he let me go. It’s been so long since anyone touched me like that. The only person who ever really loved me was my mother. I miss her hugs.
I guess my sister loved me, too, in her own way, but she left me, and I’m still not fully over it.
“I’m not a girl,” I say under my breath. It irks me that he thinks of me as a child.
He lifts his gaze and sets the bread down. “Rebekah, I can see that. Don’t get me wrong. I didn’t mean to imply you’re not a woman. It’s just a term of endearment.”
“Okay.” A chill runs down my spine at his intensity. He’s still staring at me. I don’t think he looked at me like that when I was a child.
“Good. Now, tell me what meats and cheeses you want, sweetheart.”
I look at the spread in front of me. My mouth is watering. My stomach grumbles. “Uh, turkey, ham, cheddar, and swiss?” Those are the first things I see. Do they even go together?
He chuckles. “Are you asking me? It’s your sandwich. You can have whatever you want on it. If you can’t get your mouth around it, I guess, you’ll have to smash it down.”
He’s funny. Was he always this funny? Yes. Memories bombard me. Adam was my favorite of all the boys. Maybe because he was the youngest and hadn’t moved away yet. He and his twin, of course. But Adam spent more time with me than Aaric.
I often showed up around midmorning and would find him in the barn. He liked to pretend he hadn’t seen me yet. He would talk about me as if I weren’t there. Silly things like, “Has anyone seen that little firecracker lately?” “Do you suppose she moved away?” “What was that firecracker’s name again? I forgot.” “I think I saw a flash of red over by the chickens. Is one of them injured?”
He used to grab my wrists and swing me through the air in circles until I got dizzy. When he set me back on my feet, I fell over. I never understood why it didn’t make him off-balance.
He finishes making my sandwich, puts it on a plate with cut-up apples and a pile of chips, and slides it across the island toward me.
I fight to hold back my tears. His mom and dad used to do the same thing for me. I cried for months after they died. I felt like I’d lost my own parents. I missed them terribly. Their loss was huge because it took Adam away from me. I may have mourned the loss of the Gallants more than I did my own mother’s death. I missed Adam so much. His kindness. His silly antics. The way he smiled at me.
