Page 78 of Middle Ground
Since that day at the creek, we haven’t slept together. Not for my lack of wanting to, but Meyer made it clear that she only wanted it once. So, although I think she’s lying to herself more than she is to me, I’ve let it go.
As far as things with the inn, she has become a bit more willing to compromise. I’m not sure whether it’s the fear of everything being taken away from her or if she’s genuinely warming up to me and my ideas, but I’ll take it.
I wave to Winona behind the front desk on my way by, and then I slip through the office door.
“Hey,” I say to Meyer. “I bought us some lunch.”
I learned rather quickly that although Meyer loves the restaurant at the inn, it gets old eating food from there every day. The deli downtown is her favourite alternative. They make the best reuben sandwich in the whole province, according to her.
Meyer is standing in the middle of the room, looking distracted. She shoves her phone into her back pocket as she nods. “Thanks,” she says absentmindedly.
“Are you okay?” I notice the worry lining her expression. “Did something happen?”
Somethingelse. Something new on top of all the shit we’ve had to deal with so far. I certainly hope that isn’t the case, but the look on her face doesn’t seem to bode well.
“Nothing like that. It’s—” She sighs. “My mom found out about the fire and she’s coming to town,” she finally admits.
“Found out?” I ask. “You didn’t tell her?”
She shakes her head. “No. Of course not!”
I set the bag from the deli on top of the nearest filing cabinet. “I think that’s something she would have liked to hear from you. She just wants to make sure you’re okay.”
Meyer shakes her head again, and when she speaks, her voice is quiet. “I don’t want to see the disappointment in her eyes.”
I frown in confusion. “Why the hell would she be disappointed? She’ll be worried. Probably mad that you didn’t mention the fire before she heard it through the grapevine. But not disappointed. It’s not like you set the fire. You didn’t doanything wrong.”
She doesn’t seem to be listening to me. She’s still caught in her spiralling thoughts, letting them strangle her. I want to comfort her, but I don’t know how. I don’t know if that would cross a boundary and send our progress backwards.
But fuck, I want to be the one she comes to for reassurance.
“Maybe this whole thing is a sign,” she continues. “Maybe this means I don’t belong here. It’s only been a few months and I’m already a failure.”
“Never fucking say that again.”
My tone is harsher than intended, but her words piss me off. Notather, but for her. That she can even think that about herself is maddening. In no way could Meyer ever be considered a failure. Not by me, and certainly not by her mother. Beatrice knew what she was doing when she let her daughter take the reins. There is no one more passionate about this place.
Meyer’s eyes are wide in surprise when they shift to me. “What?”
I stalk toward her. Now she’s leaning on the edge of the desk, arms braced on either side of her luscious hips. She’s right where she belongs, and it frustrates me that she can’t see that.
I take her chin in my hand, forcing her to meet my eyes. Her breath hitches from my closeness.
“Neversay that you’re a failure again. You hear me, Meyer? Because that is the farthest thing from what you are.”
“What am I, then?”
Mine.
The word comes out of nowhere. So does the knowledgethat I want it to be true. From day one, Meyer has intrigued me. But getting to know her over these past months has been a privilege, and selfishly, I want more. I’m always going to want more when it comes to her.
I swallow thickly. “You’re my partner,” I say, instead of everything I want to tell her. “And I refuse to let anyone insult my partner, even you.”
“Yeah?” Meyer fists the lapels of my jacket, a dare in her eyes. “What are you going to do about it?”
“Punish you, of course.”
The next second, my lips descend on hers. She widens her stance and I step between her feet. Pressing into her, one hand winds around her back to hold her upright while the other braces my body weight on the desk.
