Page 17 of Forgetting Rafe Thomas
“Eh, I think you were doing fine, but it’s going to be hard to get the door open. If you open it, I can carry them in for you,” he says.
Oh. Dear. My adrenaline spikes and my heart races. I definitely don’t have to worry about this guy killing me and hiding my body in the bogs. And I don’t have to worry about screaming loudly enough for Rafe to hear.
ItisRafe. And I’m not sure if I’m ready for this.
“Uh…ye-yeah, if you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it.” My voice wavers and I clear my throat.
I reach for the door, but he turns just as I do so. The top half of the stack rolls off and lands on my feet. All ten toes are assaulted by no less than five incredibly angry chunks of wood. I hiss and cry out before trying to figure out which foot hurts worse so I can grab it.
“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry,” he says. “Sit down on the steps.” He’s dropped everything now to ensure I haven’t lost any toes, but they are too numb to know for sure. The dramatic part of me says they’ve all been amputated and can’t be fixed, so I wiggle them to assure myself that is not the case. Whew, they’re all there, but they might be numb forever. Can that happen? I read somewhere that crushing injuries can sometimes cause permanent nerve damage, and these babies havesurelybeen crushed into little pancakes.
I wiggle them again. Okay, maybe that was a little dramatic.
“I…I think I’m all right. Nothing feels broken. I’m sure there might be some bruising, but it was an accident, so don’t—”
“Luna, you don’t know that. Please, let me see them.”Hisvoice wavers now, but he’s serious. I’m not getting out of this without taking off my shoes and showing him that my toes are still there. He ushers me to the stairs and sits beside me.
“Rafe, I’m fine. Really.”
“Luna, shoes off,” he insists and points to my feet. He stares back at me with big brown eyes and my heart skips. He always did that to me. Nothing has changed in that department.
I glance up at the clouds, astounded. Yep, this is one for the record books. God must have known he’d have to do all the work, put Rafe right in front of me, and create some kind of chaos to get us talking. I’m sure the injury is all on me though.
“Luna,” he says again as if he’s trying it on to see if he still has a right to say it with the same intensity and determination.
I fully take in his face. I know it’s Rafe under all that scruff, but he seems…different. Maybe he is. Maybe Mav was right, and he’s got more to say now. I won’t know if I don’t go all in like I said I would. Some part of me wants to kiss him, just throw away these past months and pretend they didn’t happen…but they did. They happened, and if this is the right path, then it has to be solid. We have to put in the work, patch the cracks so we don’t end up here again—brokenhearted and separated.
I need to saysomethingor he’s going to keep staring at me expectantly. I mean to say something smart, something to distract him from my aching feet so he won’t feel bad for the accident, but my brain and mouth do not sync up before my mouth opens.
“This is Ireland,” I say.
“Yes, very good. You know your geography.” He smiles but his tone is stiff. He’s nervous, doesn’t know if I’ll laugh. It’s exactly the same thing he did when he first asked me out, and my heart melts. I love this man, even when he messes up, and I don’t know why I ever let him go without fighting for us.
I chuckle and look at my lap. “This is probably a crazy thing we’re doing, but Ireland is beautiful.”
“It is,” he whispers. “More so now.”
My cheeks warm and I press my palms against them. “Sorry about the firewood.”
“Why are you sorry? I’m the one who dumped it on your feet, which you still need to check, by the way.”
“Um, I need to do some grocery shopping if I’m going to be here for a few days.” Ugh, I didn’t mean to say that either. I should agree with him, go inside and pull off my shoes and socks to at least be sure nothing is bleeding, but I can’t figure outwhatto say, so it all comes out wrong.
Rafe sighs. “Message received, loud and clear,” he says before pushing off the step and gathering the dropped logs.
“What is that supposed to mean?” I snap. I don’t mean to, can’t even figure out why I did, but his tone hit me all wrong, and that old frustration with him flares up.
He gives me the typical Rafe shrug. “You don’t want to see me right now. It’s fine. I wasn’t trying to intrude or anything. Just saw you struggling from the yard and wanted to help you so you didn’t get hurt. Pretty much messed that up.”
I can’t exactly see his face while it’s covered in that beard and his hat is pulled down over his ears. Still, what I do see is…something I shouldn’t be checking out right now, so I avert my gaze back to my task and ignore the fact that my ex is way hotter than I remembered. I gather a few of the logs and take a deep breath. I can do this. It’s okay. I’m an adult and there is no cause for anxiety or frustration where Rafe is concerned. He’s literally the reason I’m here, after all.
Inside, he turns around and looks back at me. “Uh, where do you want me to put these?”
“Oh, over in the corner, they have a rack for it.” I head that way and drop my logs into the stacking rack, then move asideso he can do the same. I need to say something, clear up the miscommunication like a grown-up, but I don’t know what to say besides, “Thanks.”
“Sure. Uh…you know the closest market is five miles out, right?” He wipes his hands on his pants and glances around, taking in the coziness of the house. “I didn’t see a car. Do you have a rental?”
“Five miles? Drat, no, I don’t have a car. Do they do a delivery service here?” I bite my lip and don’t miss that his gaze travels to and stays on my mouth.
