Page 58 of Goode Tidings

CHAPTER 28

Eden

Callum shows up at 5:58 wearing a dark gray corduroy button-up shirt and slacks. His hair hangs over his ears, in need of a trim. The look on his face would take down the toughest of women: earnest, and bashful.

A panty-melter, if I'm being honest.

I hope I get some karmic points for teaching someone as attractive as Callum to cook. It's a lethal combination, and whichever woman out there benefits from my teaching is lucky.

From behind his back, Callum produces flowers.

"They're fake," he admits, thrusting them into the space between us. "I tried to buy real ones, but they all looked pretty crappy. Wilted, petals curling at the edges. They weren't good enough."

"It's probably too cold for local flowers." I take the lavender and white peony bouquet. "This is sweet," I assure him, because the tips of his ears are pink. It's endearing. My stomach flips at the thoughtfulness of his gesture. "These are⁠—"

"Peonies," he interrupts. "You teased me that time, so I thought..." he trails off.

Backing up from the door, I welcome him inside. Is this weird for him? It's, well, it's his home. He stands awkwardly, looking around. He hasn't been in here since the apple pie cupcakes.

"Are you looking for more ways I've changed the place?" I walk to the kitchen, and he follows.

"You've added a fruit bowl to the kitchen table," he answers.

He's right. Red and green apples pile in a bowl, bananas hanging from a hook above them.

"It smells different, too," he says, leaning against a counter.

"What does it smell like?" I'm reaching for a tall cup on the highest shelf, my fingers brushing it just enough to push it further back. I noticed it up there a few days ago. I don't have a vase, so that will have to do.

I give up on the possibility of being able to reach, and scramble onto the counter.

"What are you doing?" Callum asks. He sounds concerned, and mildly confused.

"You have a plastic cup up here. It's tall, and⁠—"

"Yeah, I know. Let me."

I'm on my knees now, reaching into the recess of the cabinet for the cup that resembles a skinny beer stein.

I hold it over my shoulder, and Callum takes it. Leaning left, I close the cabinet door.

I hear the plunk of the plastic cup being set down on the counter, and then Callum says, "Can you get down from there, please?"

I turn just enough so I can see him. "Do you have a problem with somebody's knees being on your kitchen counter? I assure you, I bathe."

There's a stern set to his eyebrows. "You're making me nervous."

"Me kneeling on your counter makes you nervous?"

"Yeah. Now get down. Please."

His frowny face is rigid. And I just, I don't know, want to push him a little bit.

So I stand up.

He gives me an Are you kidding me? look and steps closer.

"Now how do you feel?" I ask, eyebrows raised. I turn in a careful circle.