Page 15 of Call it Reckless

Her back and shoulders seemed rigid as she scowled at the massive piece. I sensed she didn’t want help, didn’t want to admit defeat.

“The faster it’s in place, the sooner you can hit that dessert.”

She bit her lower lip, then blew out a breath. “You make a good point.” She pointed to the feet of the bench. “I want to move it to the room off the kitchen. It’s on casters, so it slides on the regular floor, but I couldn’t get it over the transition piece between the rooms. That was the fight you heard.”

I nodded but didn’t say anything for fear of straining the tenuous peace we seemed to have achieved. “Show me where you want it.”

She led me through the kitchen and into an anteroom, pointing to a space along the wall next to the entrance.

I raised a skeptical brow. “You sure it will fit?”

“I’m used to dealing with precise measurements. I’m sure.”

Minutes later, we had the piece in place. She was right. It fit, perfectly. I stood back and admired it. “It looks like it was built for that space.”

“It might have been at one time. It seemed too casual for the front hallway, and since I plan to mostly use the kitchen entrance, it made sense to use it there instead. More like a mudroom, which was the original purpose for my farming ancestors.”

I looked around the small room, the same one I’d entered when I thought someone had broken in. Was that really just the night before? The wooden plank walls were whitewashed, the ceiling unpainted, and the floors were unpolished and scuffed. A corner sink with a mirror was opposite from where we’d inserted the bench. Industrial-style lights hung from the ceiling. A large window in the door allowed for more light. I could tell the door was new with good locks.

It wasn’t modernized or beautiful, but it had character. I could imagine those muddy ancestors coming in after an honest day’s labor, looking forward to a well-earned home-cooked meal. I could envision kids running inside, only to be sent back to drop their backpacks or baseball bats and balls and clean up before coming into a well-scrubbed kitchen with a waiting dinner.

I scratched at the stubble on my chin. I really had to get a hold of those imaginings.

“This is great,” I said, making Bristol smile.

“I told Cam not to spend time doing anything in here. I wanted something original to remain. Maybe someday I’ll change it, but for now…” Her voice trailed off as she gazed around the room, envisioning something I wasn’t privy to.

I noticed her rub the top of her thigh. Recalling her family’s accounts about her injuries from her accident just a few months ago, it was amazing she was walking. She’d probably overdone it by trying to move that damn piece of furniture. I bit back a scowl and refrained from commenting about using better sense.

“Speaking of changing, how ‘bout I go swap out those fuses for you?”

“You don’t need to—”

I held up my hand. “Consider it part of my apology.”

“In that case, here’s your flashlight.” She guided me into the kitchen and grabbed the device from the island before showing me the basement stairs. Minutes later, I was back in the kitchen, mission accomplished.

Bristol looked up from where she was setting two plates and the apple treat I’d brought on the kitchen table. Coffee spluttered and dripped in its maker near the sink.

“I thought since you’re being all nice and apology-ey, maybe I could return the favor and share the treat you brought.” Her smile was hesitant, but it reached her eyes, warming the green against the browns in her irises.

They say—whoever the helltheyare—that the eyes were the window to the soul. There was something about Bristol’s eyes, as beautiful as they were as is, that made me want to search deeper into them. My gut said few people took the time to do that, and if I was right, those people were missing out on something amazing. Reckless, but amazing.

I chuckled at her twist on the word. “Apology-ey?” It sounded like something Lexi would say.

She shrugged. “Sounds less stuffy than apologetic.”

I glanced at my watch. I had another two hours before Lexi would be dropped off by her grandparents. “Sure. That would be great.”

“Coffee? I know it’s afternoon, but I kind of live on it.”

“Sure. I do, too.”

She poured our drinks and joined me at the table. An awkward silence fell as we sipped our drinks and ate the crescent-shaped pies.

“This kitchen is beautiful,” I offered as I glanced around the bright room. I wasn’t much of a cook, but I could imagine a real chef would love the vast amount of counter space and built-in cabinets. “It’s really big.”

She followed my gaze around the room. “They knew how to build back in the old days. I only asked Cam to give it a fresh coat of paint and new appliances.” She tossed a wry grin my way. “Not exactly sure why I bothered, seeing as I’m not much of a cook, but maybe I’ll learn. Maybe Emalee can teach me.”

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