Page 27 of The Interception
I slowly nod. “She does tend to say what she thinks.”
“Whew, that was close.” Layne drifts into the room, startling me. “She almost woke up, but a little back rub did the trick.”
“Thank you for doing that. She really likes you.” Sarah Beth stands and heads back to the kitchen. “Can I get you two anything to drink?”
“Oh, no, thank you. I should head back to the house and let Ender get some rest.” Layne smooths over the wrinkles in her clothing caused by a toddler and notices a drool spot. She chuckles but doesn’t seem the least bit put off by it.
“Are you sure you can’t stay a bit? He’s fine. He’ll survive.” Sarah Beth brushes off my near-death experience, but she’s right. I’m fine. It’s not my first rodeo with an epi-pen, but I kind of hope it’ll be my last.
“I’d love to but if I’m honest, I’m pretty tired too. Raincheck?”
Sarah Beth is about to dig in and work hard to get Layne to stay, but I don’t want her to run Layne off by pushing too hard. Iknow she needs friends, but she also needs to understand social cues and boundaries. Clearly, Layne is ready for a break.
“I’ll walk you out.” I stand, making it clear to Sarah Beth that it’s time to let Layne head out. Besides, I can’t help wanting a few minutes alone with her to reassure her that Iwillbe fine. It was a simple mistake, one that could have been avoided if I had been thinking with my whole brain. There is no reason for her to worry about it another moment.
Okay, and Ikind ofwant to see if she brings up the cheek kiss.
“All right, but don’t be a stranger!”
Layne waves and waits for me to open the front door, and we step onto the front porch together. The late afternoon breeze, crisp and clean, sends a shiver down her back. She rubs her hands up and down her arms. “It got cold out. I think we’re in for a little chill the next few days.”
I did not come out here to talk about the weather. The best way I can think of to detour that train of conversation is to wrap her in my arms and warm her up. She effortlessly eases into my arms when I open them to her. I can’t help the smirk that pops out, but boy do I try. There is no chance a big ego will convince a woman like Layne that I’m worth taking a chance on.
Wait.
What?
I freeze a little, unsure where all these thoughts came from. When did I go from working hard to convince myself there’s no future for us, to getting cocky over how close we’ve gotten in only a few days? Somehow, I fell in deep. Despite everything that’s happened, everything that should tell me to tap the breaks—like having a family to take care of, a competition to win, and a game to focus on—I can’t seem to convince myself tostop.
“I’m sorry about today. I know you’re okay, but I’m still a little freaked out.”
Rubbing small circles on her back, I snug her in closer. “I’m fine, Layne. Please don’t apologize anymore.”
“I’m sorry, I—”
I chuckle, interrupting her seventeenth apology. “You can’t help it, can you?”
Layne shifts and peers up at me. “Nope. I’m a born apologizer. I apologize for apologizing.”
Her breath fans over my face, and if I dipped my head aninch,I could kiss her. Her eyes study mine, both of us knowing this is more than friendship. I can’t define what it is, but this isn’t normal behavior between cooking partners. I’m not sure it’s normal behavior between casual friends either. So what are we? Good friends who snuggle, or…something more in the making?
Inside, a pan clatters, snapping me out of my haze. My sister is probably cleaning up or planning dinner. My sister who just lost her husband, who needs me on top of my game. Who is still grieving the loss of the love of her life, while I’m out here making eyes at my cook-off partner.
“Uh, I’ll walk you to your truck.” My voice cracks with emotion I try to hold in. I’m not in the mood to cry in front of Layne again, and she seems to know this. She doesn’t ask questions. She steps back and walks down the stairs with me, side by side, lets me open the truck door for her, climbs in, and smiles.
“Thanks for having me over. I’ll brainstorm tomorrow while you’re at your game.”
I swallow what feels like lava bulging in my throat and nod. “Yeah. Sounds great. Night, Layne.”
“Night, Ender.”
I watch her pull out of the driveway and recommit to being responsible. I can’t keep letting myself get distracted. I willnotlet attraction to Layne Rossi derail my responsibilities to the people I love. I can’t. My heart won’t survive it.
Chapter Thirteen
Layne
With Ender having agame today, there is no time for recipe testing. I don’t have anything better to do with my time, so I decide to make Nonnie’s biscotti for them and take it over this afternoon. Since I can’t decide between classic, almond, or chocolate, I make all three and store them in a plastic container I grabbed from the general store down the street. If nothing else, they’ll be a sweet treat for Ender when he gets home from a grueling game.
