Page 31 of Worth the Want
The smell of coffee wakes me in the morning. I’ve only just realized the full potential of the fancy coffee machine that Florence got me for Christmas. Being able to time my coffee with my alarm is a luxury I didn’t know I needed. Flinging my blankets off, I plant my feet on the floor before stretching out my back. I may not feel forty-one by this afternoon, but I sure as hell do every morning. Moving my body through my daily morning routine, I think about the night before and the woman who it revolved around.
Having met her years ago, I already knew that there was attraction between us, but the easy conversation wasn’t something I had expected. I haven’t been on a date with a woman in three years. There has been some interest, but there hasn’t been anyone I’ve cared to spend any more time with than necessary. But Indie? I want to spend time with her.
Hence, the inviting her on my solo hike this morning. I run a hand down my face. Yes, she had basically invited herself, but I didn’t have to ask her to come. I want to know more about her. I realized last night, after getting into bed, that she hadsomehow steered the topic back to me when I asked about her. I said more to her last night than I’ve said to anyone outside my family or my business associates in—I'm not sure how long—but it’s been a while.
I pour myself a cup of coffee in the kitchen and take it back with me to the bedroom to get dressed. It’s supposed to be warmer today, and there’s a waterfall on the hike we’re going on, so I pull on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, throwing a flannel over the top to combat the morning chill. Grabbing my backpack, I stock it with plenty of water, some granola bars, and some sunscreen. I only have baby sunscreen, but it smells good and it's the organic shit that I pay twice as much for.
Zipping the pack, I check the time on my phone to see it’s 6:45. Glancing at my messages from Winnie, there are two pictures that I’ve already saved to my phone. One is of Rhett, his hair pulled tight into a ponytail on top of his head with a pink bow. The other is of Hazel sitting on their kitchen counter, helping Winnie bake. I smile at the tiny chef’s hat sitting on top of her little head.
Out back, I water the plants that Hazel helped me pick out and plant, along with the small herb garden I’m trying out. Cooking is something I really enjoy doing, and a lot of times, I end up helping my family out with recipes. Hazel isn’t always thrilled with my offering unless it’s covered in cheese. I guess I can’t be too offended by her three-year-old’s palate.
I check my phone again and see it’s now 6:59. Hmm, still no Indie. Only when I make it to the side of the house with the hose, she’s there. She’s standing on my porch in one of my old ball caps and a sweatshirt that says: Adventure Is Out There, But So Are Serial Killers. I’ve never wanted to kiss someonemore in my life. I’m not sure how she managed to get her hands on my hat, but it’s hers now.
“Hey,” I call, and she looks up at me from her perch against the porch railing.
“Hi.” Her voice is still sleepy sounding. Knowing I’m the first person she’s spoken to today does something to me.
“Morning. You ready to head out?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Just let me grab my pack; I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Sounds good,” she says, smiling at me.
Gathering my things quickly so I don’t keep her waiting, I meet her back at the porch.
“Is the trail around here or…?” Her question hangs in the air.
“It’s only a fifteen-minute drive to the trailhead,” I tell her, locking my front door.
“Should I follow you?” She hitches a thumb over her shoulder at her car.
“Not unless you have an objection to being in my truck.”I want her to be in my truck.
“No objection…but since I didkind ofinvite myself on your hike today…I thought I would give you the chance to not be stuck with me on the drive as well.” She gives me a sheepish grin.
“I wouldn’t have invited you if I didn’t want to, Indie.”
She nods her head at that, biting her full bottom lip. “I guess I’ll have to believe you.”
I hum. “After you.” I hold out a hand toward my truck, watching her skip down the steps to the passenger door. When she opens it, Sally jumps inside.
“Oh, hey, Sally girl!” Indie says giving her full attention to the dog now sitting in the middle of the bench seat.
“Do you mind if she tags along?”
“Are you kidding?” she asks sliding in beside Sally, shutting the door but rolling the window down so if she wants, Sally can lean her head out of it. I shake my head. The girls in my life will be spoiled with or without my help.
“How long have you had her?” Indie asks me as I shut my own door and turn the key in the ignition causing the truck roar to life.
“A couple years. She made her way onto my parents’ ranch, and Hazel fell in love with her.” Indie smiles widely at that.
“I’m guessing Hazel gets what she wants most of the time.” It’s not a question, but it's also not said in a way that suggests that would be a bad thing.
“Well, when you have three younger siblings and yours is the first grandbaby in the family, I suppose it comes with the territory,” I muse.
“As it should,” Indie agrees. “I know if I had a kid, my sister would have spoiled them rotten, and my parents, while being incredibly theatrical, are extremely loving.” I notice that while petting Sally, Indie gives me a lot more information.
