Page 27 of Caught in the Axe
Inside, neatly stacked, was every type of gluten-free snack I could imagine. I picked up a package of crackers, then a small box of cookies and studied the labels, blinking in amazement.
I unearthed a colorful box and gasped. “Oh my God!”
“You said you missed Froot Loops.” He shrugged. “These are the fancy non-GMO organic gluten-free version.”
My first instinct was to tear off the top of the box like a rabid raccoon, but I stopped myself. My second instinct was to pack it all back up and return it.
“You didn’t need to buy all this for me,” I said, guilt swirling in my stomach. He had to have spent hundreds of dollars on this stuff. The gluten-free cookies alone were eight bucks a box.
“I said I’d feed you, didn’t I? And,” he said, picking up a bag of low-sugar naturally colored gummy worms, “these are at least kind of healthy.”
My heart warmed as I took him in, then surveyed all my goodies again. Maybe this was a small gesture for him, and in the grand scheme of things, I supposed it was. But I’d been raised on a steady diet of Hallmark movies and my mother’s dramatic relationships, so I’d never been one for big, romantic gestures. Over-the-top proposals and flashy declarations had never done much for me, no matter how much Mom loved them.
For me, what mattered was the little things. The small ways in which it was clear a person noticed me and appreciated me were what made me giddy.
The tiny gestures were what made a big impact. Rob, my mother’s second husband, had been like that. Always remembering which days I had piano after school or what my favorite flavor of ice cream was.
While snack food might not mean much to the average person, to someone like me, for whom food could be dangerous, it was huge.
So I rounded the table and pulled him into a big hug. At first, he was stiff, but it only took a moment for him to give in and wrap his arms around me.
I hugged everyone, regardless of the occasion, whether it be joyful or agonizing. It was as natural to me as breathing. But the instant his body heat seeped into me, it was clear that touching him like this had been a huge mistake.
Sometimes, when I went in for a spontaneous hug, the recipient’s responding embrace was begrudging. Cole had been that way. His unwillingness to reciprocate my physical affection was one of the things that drove me crazy. I’d wrap my arms around his waist and squeeze him, and he’d give me a halfhearted pat on the back, or worse, wrap one arm around me in return.
Though he’d been rigid at first, once he eased into it, Owen embraced me like he wanted to. Like he had to. The hug was slow and careful, but the affection he gave was as genuine as what he’d gotten from me. And this was a major fucking problem.
Because it felt good. Too good. He smelled like cedar and clean laundry, and the way the scent enveloped me made my knees wobble.
“Thank you,” I said into his chest.
Did I have to let go?
I should let go.
But he wasn’t loosening his grip.
“You’re welcome,” he murmured, and then I swore—I swore—he pressed his nose to the crown of my head and sniffed. Or maybe not, because suddenly, he was awkwardly stepping back and busying himself with the boxes.
Shit. That was weird. I had made it weird. I should have let go first, and I shouldn’t have squeezed him so hard or put my head on his chest. I’d probably made him uncomfortable. He was my boss, for heaven’s sake.
And now that I knew what it felt like to have his strong body against mine, I was in even more danger.
“Care to join me for a feast? I’ve got gluten-free ramen here. Wanna fire up the microwave for a gourmet dinner?” He raised one eyebrow, and a hint of a smile tipped his lips.
My stomach swooped. I liked Owen. He was so much more than the stuck-up city asshole everyone thought he was.
He was thoughtful and sarcastic and he gave excellent hugs.
“I’d love to,” I replied. “But only if we can have the Froot Loops for dessert.”
Chapter 10
Owen
Iwas a coward.
I’d spent the afternoon riding around with Gus, talking through outstanding orders, adding to the list of equipment we planned to sell, and getting a sense of the outstanding maintenance projects we needed to budget for.
