“We need to get that policy clear as day, by the way.”
She gives me a peculiar look. “Now who is Mr. Business?”
I place a croissant on her plate before setting one on my own. “I’m a lawyer. It’s logical that I think of these things.”
She gives up and sighs. “You perhaps have a point. Okay, it’s just, while I’m here, I want you to continue your normal routine, and I will contribute where I can. I’m sure we both have our own schedules.”
“We do. My days are long, which means we keep it to one round at night so I can have a good night’s sleep.”
Her laugh sounds good the way it bounces off the walls of my home. “Agreed… I’m really thankful. The moment this is too much then say the word, I can get out of your hair.”
I don’t bother looking at her as I butter my croissant. “It’s all good.” No, really.
“Well then…” Our eyes meet, and fresh air floats between us as we enter new territory together.
A few weeks ago, we were ready to throttle one another. Now? I can’t get enough of her, and I’m convinced she feels the same. I didn’t need to demand for her to stay yesterday, she was already on the cusp of gluing her feet to the floor.
Our soft, near giddy, smiles seem to stay permanent as we continue to eat our breakfast, and that feels too natural.
“What do you normally do on a Sunday?” I wonder.
“Often have a shoot, but by luck, the couple called Friday afternoon to reschedule.” She speaks with her mouth full as it seems that she is famished.
An idea comes to me because all of my defenses to make her life miserable vanished and now I only want to do things to make her happy. “Want to head to Lake Spark for dinner at the Dizzy Duck Inn?”
Fondness appears on her face. “Ooh, that sounds good. But I noticed I need to go to the grocery store, as someone lives off of, well, protein bars and coffee? I’m surprised you had a roll of croissant dough and some bacon that is nearly at the expiration date.”
Laughing to myself, I have to point out the obvious. “As much as I can say that it’s the bachelor life, it’s not. At work, we get meals since there is a chef for the players and most of the staff arrive early. Then often, I just BBQ with the guys or something.”
“Makes sense. I would say you’re welcome to come with me to the store, but that might be too tame for us.”
“Actually, it’s cool. I will tag along. No offense, but your coffee is only tolerable. We can grab a coffee from Foxy Rox.”
“Deal. Oh, and I started a bunch of laundry to get the smell of smoke out from all of my clothes that were upstairs in my house. Hope you don’t mind.” Esme tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.
My lips quirk out, and I shake my head. “Not a problem. Want to head out soon?”
“Perfect.”
Esme stands to take her plate away but seems to be stalled on her feet. “This is kind of weird, right? I mean, the way everything is transpiring?”
Licking my lips, I do all I can to suppress my smile, as I want to play it cool. “Apparently, the key was sourdough bread and a fire to scoot us along to something else.”
“I guess so.”
Our eyes linger for a good beat before the corners of her mouth jerk up, and she disappears into the kitchen.
My face collapses into my hands. What the fuck? Why are these feelings that I have for her unfolding so fast and rolling down a hill with nothing in the way to stop them?
Blowing out a breath, I push it all to the side and decide to just sway with the Sunday flow.
Esmeand I sit across from one another at a small table outside Foxy Rox along the window, with coffee for me, tea for her, and a giant piece of peanut butter cake to share.
“See? The grocery store can be fun if you venture intoseveral aisles. Take your time to explore the objects on the shelf. You will now actually have all the basis of the food group pyramid in your house.” Esme seems proud of herself.
I have to grin, as we have constantly joked with one another for the last two hours. The supermarket with her was purely hilarious. She debated which type of apples to buy, spent ten minutes in the cereal aisle, questioned if a tub of Greek yogurt should accompany the berries, and stocked the hell up on jars of pesto. When we reached the paper towels, then it was full-on like we were an old couple shopping together.
“You’re right. I needed your wizard skills all along. I will no longer be a victim of choosing the wrong can of nuts or carton of milk.”
