Page 55 of Objection to Love

She downed them with vigor then handed the glass back.

“Can I help you to the bathroom?” he asked.

“Actually, do you mind grabbing my bag from the car?”

“Sure, be right back.”

Within a couple of minutes, Em was in the bathroom, attempting to extricate her swollen ankle from the tight leggings. It wasn’t a fun experience. But with her bag, which had her bra and underwear—still dry since she hadn’t put them back on after swimming—plus Garrett’s clean clothes, and a quick sponge bath using a wash rag, she almost felt like a new person.

A new person wearing really baggy clothes, but new nonetheless.

Plus, it was a good thing the clothes were baggy. Every place they touched seemed a reminder that they were used to touchingGarrett’sbody. The shirt folding in and grazing her stomach. The length of the pants that she’d had to roll up. The lingering scent of cologne that mixed with laundry detergent.

Her mind was going all sorts of places it shouldn’t be.

By the time she’d finished and hopped down the hall on one foot, dinner was almost done. She stepped-hopped into the kitchen, following the sound of laughter.

Garrett jumped to his feet from where he’d been sitting at the table. “Em, I didn’t hear you, or I would have helped you out.” He stopped suddenly, swallowing as his eyes darted to her clothes then back up at her. “You look better in those than I ever did. Come here; Mom’s almost got dinner done.”

He put his arm around her waist and helped her to the table, which minimized the pain of hopping a surprising amount. Em looked around as she sat. The kitchen was beautiful, with wood cabinets and white quartz countertops, a large island, and a fridge large enough for all three of them to fit in.

Mrs. Clarke stood at the stove stirring something. “I hope you like potato soup; it was the easiest thing to whip up.” She smiled at both of them. So that was where Garrett got it from. Everything down to the way the right side lifted just a bit more than the left was a ringer for Mrs. Clarke’s son.

“Whatever it is, it smells amazing,” Em responded. “Thank you so much for everything, Mrs. Clarke.”

“Call me Darla, and it’s nothing.” She waved the hand not stirring the soup with another smile. “I’m always happy to meet one of Garrett’s friends. Especially someone besides Will or Noah.” She laughed. “Those boys eat me out of house and home anytime they come by.”

“Oh, Noah! Garrett, we just left—we never told them.”

“I texted him a while ago. He’s fine. Besides, he deserved to be left behind.”

“What did he do?” Darla asked curiously.

“Nothing. I’ll tell you about it another time.”

His mom made a sound between acceptance and interest. “Dinner’s ready! Garrett, will you grab the silverware?”

Chapter 19

Garrett

Garretthoppeduptohelp his mom, but his eyes strayed back to Em. In his clothes. At his childhood table. He swallowed again, focusing on the task of counting out spoons. Three was a hard number to get right.

His mom nudged him with her shoulder as she pulled a hot pad from the drawer beside the silverware. “She’s really pretty,” she murmured.

Garrett only nodded. His mom had already grilled him over his involvement in the spraining of Em’s ankle… and then his intentions with the woman in question. Garrett hadn’t known how to answer then. And he didn’t know any better now.

He sat by Em, and his mom sat on his other side, filling three of the four chairs at the white, round table. For just a second, Garrett eyed the fourth chair sadly. His dad would have liked Em. Would have liked her drive and her quick wit. But his dad was gone. And now Mom was helping Em get her foot onto the fourth chair with an ice pack.

“So where were you hiking?” his mom asked as he filled Em’s bowl.

“Moonlight Lake,” he responded.

“Oh, that place is beautiful. Did you make it up or did you sprain your ankle on the way?” She asked this to Em, who thanked Garrett for the soup before answering.

Garrett didn’t quite know what to do with the shift in their relationship. After almost kissing, then the intimacy of carrying her back to the car, then this—dinner with his mom—it felt like a definite line had been crossed.

And it worried Garrett that he didn’t mind. Because he could only guess that Em did.

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