Page 38 of Goode Tidings

The natural follow-up question would be something along the lines of You sell your drawings? Or, Are you an artist? A wave of guilt washes over me, keeping me from opening my mouth. This woman has made me dinner, numerous cups of coffee prepared the way I like (that she learned on her own by watching, might I add), invited me to town with her, and learned about my website by looking me up online. What have I done, aside from giving up the cabin (which wasn't mine to begin with) and eating a cupcake with her to get her to stop feeling sad? I haven't learned what she does for work, or offered to introduce her to people in town (never mind that it would physically pain me to spend time in Snowflake). All I've done is frown, provide her with embarrassing moments that will one day form anecdotes, and, an occurrence thankfully known only to me, pleasured myself to the thought of her.

Two years hiding out from the world has turned me into a brute.

But I can fix this.

I hold up a finger like I'm saying one moment please and remove my phone from my pocket. I navigate to an internet search bar, and am once again stymied.

"Uh," I say, scratching my forehead. I am deeply ashamed of myself in this moment. "Is your last name the same as Justin's?"

Eden wrinkles her nose. "No, thank goodness. I planned to take his last name, but never did. By the time I was pregnant with Oliver, Justin was being an idiot and I wrote my last name on Oliver's birth certificate."

I blink at her, surprised.

"What?" she asks, defensive. "You think I should've given him Justin's last name, no matter what?"

"No, I don't. Last names are earned. I don't have my dad's last name, either."

"Your mom was a single mom?"

I nod. "For the most part. She was married to Justin's dad, as you know. But she never changed my last name when she married, and when she divorced she went back to Goode."

"Is she remarried now?"

"No. She's down in Key West living her best life and says she'll be single forever. Claims men aren't worth the hassle."

Eden breathes an amused sound. "She's right about that."

I want to ask why Eden agrees with my mom. I want to ask why she agreed to come stay in a cabin for a year. I want to know where she got that dimple in her cheek, and where she learned to draw.

But I'll start small. Earn those answers. "What's your last name, Eden?"

Eden produces another pencil, this one a lighter shade of brown. "Madigan."

Switching my phone to my left hand, I extend my right between us. "It's nice to meet you, Eden Madigan."

Eden eyes my offered palm. "What are you doing?"

"Meeting you properly. The way we should have."

Eden slides her colored pencil to the coiled ring at the top of her sketchpad, where the other pencils are kept. She places her hand in mine, watching me cautiously. Is she waiting to see if I'll react as I did when her hand skimmed mine?

I won't lie and say my first instinct isn't to take my hand back and tuck it into my pocket, wrestle with the torrent of emotions it sets off within me.

But I fight it. Let her sweet warmth fill my palm. She's soft where I'm hard. Smooth where I'm callused.

"I don't know, Callum." Eden's head tips, her hand staying in mine. "I might prefer your hiney greeting."

"Hiney greeting?"

She lets me go, turning ninety degrees so her profile is in view. Then she wiggles her ass. "Hiney," she explains.

"My hiney was bare," I point out, turning my attention back to my phone. I can't look at her ass quaking in those jeans any longer. I'll die on the spot.

"Weird way for you to ask me to get naked," Eden comments dryly, extracting another colored pencil from its spot.

Naked Eden. I'll deposit that image in the same bank where I keep Eden sucking frosting from her finger and saying she likes to work with her hands.

Do I need to start getting out more? Is that what this is? I'm not really lusting after Justin's ex, right? Eden just so happens to be the only woman in close proximity, and that's why this is happening.