Page 34 of Goode Tidings

"I'm fine."

"If you say so."

I cram the rest of the cupcake in my mouth, only so I cannot possibly say anything I have no business saying. This is obviously a simple case of my brain malfunctioning because a beautiful woman is sleeping in my bed every night. Bathing in my shower, too, which means she needs to undress. So Eden is standing in my bathroom, undressing, and— Dammit. No.

"Wax seals," I blurt.

Eden blinks. Sips her coffee. "What about them?" she asks, unperturbed by my outburst.

"Can I see them?" I'm not sure wax seals are all that interesting, but anything is better (ahem, safer) than the treacherous territory into which my mind was headed.

"You want to see my wax seals?" She wiggles her eyebrows. "Kinky."

My hands drag through my hair. "It's hard to imagine you have a filter and still say some of the stuff you say. Who is Eden Unfiltered?"

"Get me liquored up and you'll find out." Eden leaves the table for a moment, only to return with a small vintage tin. It has a floral motif, with various fruits and a silver-eyed bird. It's the logo in the right-hand corner that stops me short.

"Devonport Chocolates?" I tap at the tin. "Have you been to New Zealand?"

"A gift from a friend who went. I ate all the chocolates. Now I use it to store my finished seals." Eden opens the tin. "Have you been?"

I nod. "A long time ago. To visit Hobbiton."

"You and my brother would get along great. Hobbiton is on his bucket list."

"I can help him if he plans a trip. Give him some tips, or whatever."

Eden looks at me, and I'm waiting for her to use that questionable filter to say That's something a friend would do. Are we friends, Callum? Instead, she says, "I'll tell him that."

I'm more than ready to take the attention off my probably unnecessary offer, so with my hand hovering over the tin, I ask, "May I?"

Eden reaches out like she's after one seal in particular. I should move my hand back, give her space, but I don't. Because I'm finding I don't want to. I want to know if she's as warm and soft as she looks.

The outer edge of her hand grazes mine. It's a simple brush, but it burns in the best way. I swallow hard, trying not to allow myself to want more. I take back my hand, hoping that wasn't too obvious.

Eden glances at me, and where there could be irritation at my odd behavior, I see only apology. She skims over the interaction, not asking me to explain myself, and I'm grateful.

"This one is my favorite," she says, picking up a white, coin-shaped seal. Suspended in the wax is a delicate purple flower with a green stem, pressed paper thin. "When it's on a white envelope, you can mostly see the flower. It looks like the envelope was sealed with a flower. It's very pretty."

"It's really cool." I'm impressed by her creativity. "Do people use these for wedding invitations?"

"I suppose they could." She lays them all out on the table. There are seventeen. "But they probably use custom seals with their monogram or first letter of their married last name."

I run my finger along the edge of one clear seal with a hot pink flower. "These would still be cool for invitations for other types of parties. I read somewhere that handwritten invitations are making a comeback. People are getting tired of email invitations. They want that personal touch."

"Are you a creative, Callum?"

"Nah. I'm more of an idea guy. You though? You're clearly a creative."

"I like to work with my hands."

Somewhere Fate is smirking. How fitting that the touch-starved man was placed in the direct path of the tactile woman.

The back door opens suddenly. Oliver blows in, his hairstyle giving him an extra inch in height. He slings his backpack onto a free chair and throws himself into the only remaining seat. He looks from me to his mom, trying to get a read on why he's just come upon me in the cabin. "Everything cool?"

Protective of his mom. I like it. As the son of a single mother, I understand how the absence of a father figure leaves a vacuum, and how quickly the son naturally steps into that role. Healthy or not, that's the way it goes.

"All good," Eden assures. "How was your first day of school?"