Luckily, Court never gets to her turn. Coach starts bringing out the desserts, including his ice cream cart for the kids to go crazy over. I want to ask Courtney if this is what her childhood was like, but I know it’s not an easy topic for her.
Which is why I don’t take my eyes off her as she comes out of the kitchen, bowl in her hands and smile on her face. She approaches Coach while he’s talking to Connie, and I’m not sure what happens. Her face falls and before he sees her, she’s turning around, hugging the bowl to her chest while she rushes back inside the house.
What the fuck?
What the hell did I miss? I stare back at Coach and Connie. The two of them are eating dessert. Still talking…
Meanwhile my feet are carrying me into the house after Courtney. I don’t give a damn who sees. Right now, my only concern is finding my girl and making sure she’s okay.
I peer into each of the open doors until I end up in the kitchen. The dessert she made is abandoned on the island, but there’s no sign of her. I’m about to leave when I hear the faint sniffle coming from the larder.
I don’t think twice as I let myself in, closing the door behind me when Courtney looks up at me with tear-soaked eyes.
“What’s going on?” I ask only for her to shake her head in reply.
Normally, I would push for an answer, but it doesn’t feel like the right thing to do in this moment. Instead, I go to her and wrap myself around her. Holding her until she looks up at me and smiles again.
“Feeling better?”
Courtney nods in response, allowing me to carefully pat the mascara stained blotches around her eyes clean with the hem of my t-shirt.
“Want to talk about it?”
“It’s okay…” After a deep breath, she adds, “I’m just being silly.”
“About?” I know Court’s sensitive about certain things, but silly? Not so much.
“Dessert.” She sighs, melting into me completely before she tells me, “Connie made Eton Mess too.”
Oh.
A sheepish grimace crinkles her nose. “I told you it’s silly.”
“It’s not. People always underestimate how important the silly little things are to the big picture. Like you know, when I miss home, I actually miss sitting in my mom’s kitchen talking to her while she cooks dinner. I miss hugging Sabine when she freaks out during a horror movie… and listening to Étty and my dad argue over the right way to clear snow off the drive.”
“Don’t you just shovel it to the side?”
“You’d think, right?”
A quiet laugh bubbles in her chest, warming mine with pride for being the reason she’s lighting up again.
“I wanted to do something nice,” she whispers. “To relive a memory we have together.”
“I get that. And again, I don’t think it’s silly,” I murmur into her hair.
“Did you see Connie’s?” she asks, blinking her emotions away. “It was perfect.”
I lift her chin. Brushing my lips along to the pink line in her hair—the scar I gave her.
“Looking perfect doesn’t make it better,” I tell her. “We had fun making it together. Made memories. The good kind that I’m going to enjoy reliving. A lot.”
Her lips twitch as a deep flush glows bright on her cheeks.
“And I can’t wait to try it,” I whisper. “Because every bite will taste like you. Perfect.”
She looks up at me like I just hung her moon. Damn, I hope I get to do it again. And again. Because this fullness in my chest is too good. Too wholesome. Tooperfect.
This feeling is all her, and there’s no way I’m ever going to be able to give it up.