Page 91 of Goode Tidings

"I forgot I had a hole in my roof."

She leans in again. One more kiss. "Hot Squat," she says against my mouth.

"Andes Mint," I say against hers.

She laughs and stands, walking to the entrance of the hall. She turns around, blows me a kiss, and disappears.

I place her closed laptop on the kitchen table, hook her knitting bag from a chair, and dump the wine down the kitchen sink. Then I make a double espresso, dark and bitter. Rocket fuel. While it's brewing, I set up my computer screens, my laptop, and my wireless mouse.

I have work to do.

CHAPTER 42

Eden

No More Sad Man Hermit

1. Learn to cook (at least somewhat proficiently)

2. Volunteer

3. Puppy yoga

4. Find Callum a date (he can veto b/c it feels like the right thing to do)

5. Challenge Callum in ways that are yet-to-be-determined

6. Eden Madigan

He added my name to the list.

CHAPTER 43

Eden

So. Thirsty.

I reach my hand out, fingers searching the nightstand for the glass of water I always bring to bed with me. Then I remember: Callum.

There isn't water because my evening was turned upside down. I'd forgotten my customary water like I forgot to care that Callum's my ex-husband's former stepbrother. A mouthful of words, if there ever were any. Like a familial run-on sentence.

It doesn't matter. Justin will care, but it doesn't matter. The only opinion I care about is Oliver's.

I flop back on the pillow, thinking about last night. The way his lips bruised mine. How deeply he wanted me. The restraint he showed at the end of the night, before I went to bed. I'd felt him, hard against my thigh. I'd had to restrain myself, too. Every smile, every groan, every touch from Callum is an honor, and I'm greedy. I want more.

And maybe I'm putting the cart before the horse a little, but I get the feeling Callum is selective when it comes to intimacy. Last night meant something to him, as it did to me.

I pull off the covers, sliding my feet into slippers. The room was warm when I went to bed, so I chose my tiny pink sleep shorts and matching camisole.

I can't see anything in the dark room, and I feel my way along until I find the door handle. It must be the middle of the night. I'll quietly grab a glass of water and be on my way. After I peek at Callum, of course. I bet he's cute when he's asleep.

The second I step into the hall, I know things are not as I expected to find them. A dull glow comes from the living room, the sounds of popping and cracking.

A fire?

I make the short walk and find just that. A crackling fire in the pot-bellied stove in the corner. The spicy aroma of woodsmoke. Callum sits on the ground, his back against the edge of the couch cushions. He's pushed the coffee table out of the way so it's perpendicular to the couch. His long legs extend, a laptop balanced on his lap, and he taps away at it.

"Hey," I croak.