Page 113 of Leah

If he was frightened I might flee, I would simply show him I would not.

The cottage was immaculate but tiny. I felt a sense of relief when we waded into it, like I could finally breathe. Carter, having noticed, questioned me. “What’s that look, Angel?”

I smiled softly as I walked about the tiny kitchen and living area. “It’s cosy, Carter. The space is perfect.”

He watched me as I walked around, a soft expression on his face. “I told them I didn’t want anything grand. I wanted simple, like it was at the start.”

The start of us, he meant.

Our childhood’s simplicity had strangely become a comfort for us.

I felt shy from his sudden attention. Wherever I went, he was watching me closely. It was the most attention I’d gotten from him since the hospital.

Our tour around the cottage was quick. There was a beautiful bedroom with glass doors leading out to the gigantic, trimmed yard that boasted that jaw-dropping view of a green mountain lit up by the sun.

I stood on the threshold looking out, feeling the sun hit my face and loving the heat on my skin.

I felt…quite at peace being here.

“We got a pantry full of food,” Carter said from behind me. “Are you hungry?”

It was nearing lunch time. I spun around to look at him. He stood there, in the centre of the room, in his jeans and loose grey shirt. His hands were in his pockets, his face still dishevelled and bruised—and yet he was the most beautiful man I had ever seen.

I smiled at him. “I am, but don’t you dare cook anything.”

“How come?”

“Your arm’s broken—”

“I have one other arm, Leah, and it’s in one piece.”

“Nuh-uh. I’ll be cooking.” I walked past him, feeling a thrill when I felt his eyes dance along my body. I was in a yellow summer dress, a purchase I’d made with Mel a million years ago. It hugged me in all the right places, and I was happy for wearing it because Carter…well, he looked like he wanted to touch me everywhere.

I expected him to hang back, to sit at the table, or do his own thing. But he followed right after me, lingering close enough to touch as I rummaged through the pantry and sorted out a quick meal.

We ate sandwiches outside on the wraparound porch, sitting on a white porch swing as the light breeze ruffled our hair and cooled our skin.

“I’m glad you’re putting something in your belly,” I remarked when he finished the sandwich in record time.

He smirked at me, those fiery blue eyes making my heart sing as he said, “I can stomach real food.”

I looked down at the plate in my lap, feeling flushed at the way he was looking at me. “There’ll be more where that came from, Carter.”

He put away our plates when we finished. I was looking out at the rolling hills when he returned, asking him, “Do you want to go for a walk?”

*

We didn’t speak for a while.

It was like we were looking for our footing.

It had never been like this before, I thought to myself as we waded past the yard, moving toward the hills. We had always resumed like the space had never been there, but now there was space everywhere, and I felt awkward and unsure.

I could smell water in the air and knew we were near a stream. The grass was at knee level where we trudged and as my arm skimmed his cast, I kept waiting for him to hold my hand. I glanced at him briefly, trying to appear casual. He was looking straight ahead, his face loaded with an emotion I couldn’t put my finger on.

He must have sensed my stare because he looked right at me. I whipped my face away, redirecting my focus elsewhere, though my heart beat madly in my chest.

I stopped after a while to catch my breath. I was sweaty and sticky, and we had a long way back. Carter stopped alongside me, waiting for me to collect myself.

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