“Then it’s time to put your big girl panties on and do what needs to be done.” The look she gives me is pointed. “You know what you want to do. I think you’re just waiting for permission.”
I stand up straight and narrow my eyes at one of my best friends. “I’m not waiting for permission,” I insist. “And, anyway, maybe you’re not one to talk.”
Gemma blushes and looks away while swallowing hard. She’s never been able to hide her crush on her brother’s best friend, Keaton. We’ve all seen it. At this point, I’m fairly sure the only two people who aren’t aware are her brother, Gary, and Keaton.
I usually don’t give her shit about her crush since I have my own, but since she’s putting my feelings for Rook out there front and center, she deserves to get a little taste of how it feels.
“We’re not talking about me right now,” she insists, her voice going haughty.
“Maybe we should be,” I fire the words back at her.
“You won’t deter me,” she declares. From the look she gives me, I don’t push it further. “Now, get your shit together and call him. You won’t be able to get any work done until you do.” Her voice softens slightly as she advises me, “At least to check on him and put your mind at ease.”
I gnaw on my bottom lip for a moment, but I know she’s right. I’ve been debating with myself about calling him for days.
Before I can think too hard about it, I pull my phone out of my pocket and pull up his contact. I put it on speaker just as the phone starts to ring, and furtively glance at Gemma who is grinning from ear to ear. She makes a zipping motion across her lips and then tosses the key over her shoulder.
It’s silly and fucking perfect, since I feel my shoulders relax slightly.
“Hello? Meadow?” Rook’s voice is rough when he answers and Gemma’s mouth tips down as her eyes fill with concern as she looks at my phone.
“Hi, Rook,” my voice is bright; probably too bright.
He clears his throat, but I can still hear sadness in his voice when he asks, “What can I do for you?”
It’s the same question he’s always asked when I’ve called him to set up a meeting to talk about my needs for the bakery. And it always sends a shiver down my spine.
There’s a lot he could do for me, but nothing I’ve ever had the guts to ask for. I don’t ask now either; it would be highly inappropriate if I did.
I think.
Maybe.
“I was just calling to check on you,” my voice goes soft and I almost cringe because I don’t want him to think I’m fake.
“I’m,”Rook pauses as if he’s collecting himself, or preparing himself to give me some bullshit brush off, “not great. I really miss Grandpa,” he admits quietly.
“I’m sure you do,” I match his tone. “I’m sorry you’re in pain.”
Silence stretches between us and I hate it. The longer it goes on, the more I have the need to fill the void.
I clear my throat, before my words come out quickly, “I’m going to give you two choices. First, I can come by the farm and put you to work. Hopefully, it gives you some sort of purpose and helps to give you something to focus on beyond your grief.” I pause for a moment, letting those words sink in before I power on. “Or I could come by and bring a bottle of vodka and pizza. Up to you.”
Rook lets out a soft laugh that doesn’t sound strained. “I don’t see why I have to choose. How about you come by, and you tell me what you need.” His voice turns thoughtful, “You’re probably planning the fall menu, huh?”
“I am,” my voice is hesitant, “but I can put that off a little while longer if you’re not ready.”
I can almost picture him running his fingers through his hair. “I could use the distraction,” he admits even though it sounds like it costs him something. “Work is a great distraction.”
“So are vodka and pizza,” I tease him.
“Yeah,” he chuckles, “which is why I’m thinking you should bring them too.”
My heart does a little flutter in my chest. Every time I’ve spent time around him, we’ve kept it professional. And we’ve certainly never shared food or drank together.
Seems like today is the day for new things.
“Okay,” I breathe out and try to get my racing heart under control. “Tomorrow?”
