Page 106 of Goode Tidings

"I've been so focused on my website and getting Oliver ready to go on this camping trip. I haven't thought about the office or what you've lost. I'm sorry."

Callum shakes his head, brushing off my apology. "Don't feel bad. I promise, I don't feel anything but great."

I look at him, dubious. "Any restoration done on that office will be directly out of your own pocket. After you pulled directly from your own pocket to renovate it."

His thumb courses along my jaw. "How could I possibly care about all that when the storm that caused the damage is what forced me to be honest with myself about you?"

"You mean, forced you to admit you were attracted to me."

"Among other things."

"Like?"

"It forced me to admit it was more than physical attraction, which is what I'd been telling myself. Reducing the way I was feeling to something that was only physical kept me from admitting it was more than that. Physical attraction can be superseded. But this?" He palms my cheek, gaze sweeping my face. His head shakes the tiniest amount, like even he is baffled by his feelings.

"What is this?" I have to ask. I need to know. My decisions affect more than just me.

"I've been asking myself the same question. I don't mess around, Eden. I say what I mean and I mean what I say. I'm not interested in games. Maybe we should've made that clear before all this started; maybe it's ok that we didn't. But I'm not here to be anything less than serious about you. If I'm in, I'm in. There is no halfway with me."

My heart thumps at his words, and he keeps going. "I'm not here to divide you, Eden. I'm here to support you. Make you feel cared for, so you can go out into the world and do good and big things." His brown eyes are open wide, earnest. I want to sit here and kiss him again and again for one hundred years, and one hundred more after that.

"Callum, I⁠—"

A knock sounds on the door. A tight fist of fear grips my heart. It could be Esme, come to ask for literally anything. Maybe it's Marie Claire, wanting to know if I can dog-sit. It doesn't have to be something bad, but it's where my mind goes. And it's terrifying.

Callum, clad in only his pajama pants, and I, nothing wrapped around me but a sheet, hurry for the door. There isn't a peephole, and I wouldn't wait for one anyway.

I throw open the door.

"Oh." The open door catches my trembling frame. The person standing in front of me is not Esme, or Marie Claire, or Ernest, come to tell me there has been an incident at the campground.

It's my ex-husband.

Callum's former stepbrother.

Justin.

Despite having gained a deep tan in Thailand, he looks as if he has seen a ghost. Or, his ex-wife and his former stepbrother presenting a very compromising scene.

He's wearing a hoodie and jeans with Vans, and shaking his head as if he's trying to clear his vision. Then he makes a gagging noise in the back of his throat.

I can't tell if he's being immature or if he's actually gagging. I have the urge to ask him if he's choking on a bug, but I hold my tongue. I know this is a shock for him, so I'm going to go ahead and let him process it.

His gaze moves from me to Callum, and back again. The shocked silence stretches on, and I grow weary of it, finally saying, "Hi, Justin."

He scratches at his eyebrow with a thumbnail, teeth working at his lower lip. He points at me. "You." His pointed finger swings to Callum. "And you?"

Neither of us speak. What is there to say? Please go away, you interrupted us when we were in the middle of declaring our feelings for one another.

Justin stomps into the house, messenger bag swinging. A black carry-on suitcase sits forgotten on the porch.

I swallow my sigh and close the door behind him.

Callum's hand finds my upper back, running steadily across it in a reassuring move.

Justin turns back and sees Callum touching me. "Don't touch her."

This irritates me. "It's a good thing you didn't walk in fifteen minutes ago," I say, and watch the look of disgust roll over his face.