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“I don’t communicate with the outside world.”
She gave him an extravagant eye roll. “Do you want breakfast?”
A dangerous proposition. He took a step away. “I’ll eat later.”
“Do you have a sweet tooth?”
The question came out of nowhere. One he hadn’t been asked in a while. “I guess so. I’m partial to chocolate cake.”
“Mmm,” she murmured, as if filing it away.
What did that sound mean?
“You consume a scary amount of cereal.”
Didn’t he know it. He was going to walk away, to leave it at that. But somehow, he lingered. Somehow, he told her. “For a while after the accident, I could only eat through a straw. I no longer take chewing for granted.”
Her eyes searched his. “Oliver… I’m really sorry about what I said last night. I was irritated and annoyed with not being able to find Kyle, and I lashed out at you.”
He didn’t want her sincerity burrowing into his chest, didn’t want to notice how she braced for his answer. “We’re good.”
And he fled upstairs like a coward, staying there until day tipped into late afternoon. When he finally returned to the kitchen, she’d left the curtains shut and all the lights off for once.
Where the hell was she now?
Pulling back the curtain, he found her easily in her bright-purple outfit, jogging across the fields below his home. She’d long rejected his demand that she remain indoors and went on her runs daily. He smiled. Addison led a large team in a sizeable company—she didn’t take to orders. Besides, it was the only time he could look his fill.
He used to run marathons. For years, he’d kicked off his Saturdays with a six-mile jog. That stamina had been stripped away with everything else. When he started to exercise again, it had taken him weeks to make it a mile on the treadmill without getting dizzy. Even now, he couldn’t hit three.
At least his buddy had a built-in gym. The last three months of cooped-up frustration had driven him into running and lifting again. The progress was slow but steady. A flicker of possibility that maybe he could reclaim some part of his old life.
Not that he was holding his breath.
Some things were impossible to undo.
He searched out Addison again, now next to the cow she never seemed to tire of petting, surrounded by a crowd of tourists on their way to explore the abbey.
Clouds hung low and heavy. If she didn’t hurry, she’d get drenched. And yet despite the threat of rain, she took her time as she petted that damn cow—the cow that butted her head against Addison like it couldn’t get enough of her either.
Great. Now he was jealous of cattle. How far the mighty had fallen.
Chapter 22
Tired of her usual jogging route, Addison chose to run down the empty highway. The wide shoulders and light traffic made it safe enough, and the occasional passing car gave her plenty of space.
On her way back, she detoured to see Penny, the cow ambling up to her despite a group of tourists recently released from their bus.
One rotund gentleman was coughing profusely as he inched closer to get a better look at her cow. She held her breath, but then the asshole sneezed, sending wet droplets across her face and neck.
Ugh. Gross.
She’d take an extra-hot shower when she got back, with extra soap and maybe a strong disinfectant, and look for vitamin C in Oliver’s cupboards.
The rain started as she jogged back to the house. When she scaled the hill, she saw that the front door had been left open.
Did Oliver go somewhere and forget to close it? Why did it smell like coffee?
She followed the aroma to the kitchen. Odd. Oliver didn’t drink coffee, and he certainly wouldn’t be making her some. Mrs. Buckley wasn’t due for another five days.
