Page 9 of Ezekiel
You should try talking to her.
Delilah’s words pinged at the back of my brain. I quickly swatted the thought away, the mere thought of having to make idle chit-chat with a perfect stranger nearly repulsing me. What would we talk about? I could just see the conversation now.
“So, nice to meet you. Sorry for the whole raping you in front of the church Elders bit. Gotta do what you gotta do, you know?”
I grimaced. I was terrible with words. Well, outside of a scene. I held my own in that regard. No, it was better to find something to do around the house instead. I was in no mood for my normal hobbies, plus making jam was out of the question, as it was only a day away from being February. That would have to wait. Perhaps I could fix some lunch. Glancing at the clock to see that it was barely past nine in the morning, I groaned.
I could hear Talia puttering through the house. A house she didn’t even know. The thought of her rifling through my things twisted my stomach, but I had to remind myself. These were not just my things anymore. This was not just my house. It was hers as well. It was our home.
“Talia?” I called as I went in search of her.
“Yes, Ezekiel?” she called from the kitchen.
“I wanted to apologize for last night,” I stated, already blundering through words.
“Whatever for?” she asked with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“For disappearing. Well, that and for dropping the whole short honeymoon bombshell on you like that.” She turned, looking through the cabinets. “Can I help you find something?”
“It’s quite alright. I’m sure the Elders have their reasons and we should trust them. I’m looking for coffee. If you have any.” She opened a cabinet that had a few of my own homemade items in it, picking up the jars and glancing at the simple labels. “I don’t recognize these. Who do you get them from?”
“I don’t.” Words, Zeke. Speak words. Why was it so difficult to just talk like a normal human?
“Well, then how do you get them?” she asked with the hint of a laugh in her voice. She turned to look at me, holding a jar of jam.
“I make them myself,” I explained, running a hand through my hair. What was I supposed to do with my hands? I settled for shoving them in my pockets. Classic.
“You make jams?” she asked, her eyes widening. God, she had pretty eyes. And a pretty mouth, especially when it was opened up like that in surprise. I instantly imagined her in several scenarios with that exact expression — all under my hands.
Stop thinking with your dick, Zeke, and talk to her like a fucking human.
“Jams… and other things,” I shrugged. She smiled brilliantly, and I felt my stomach flip at the sight. She truly was a beautiful woman.
“That’s lovely, Ezekiel.” I flushed under the glow of her praise. I wasn’t used to praise. I wasn’t used to being noticed for anything other than my awkwardness. I opened my mouth to say something, but no words came out, so I just shut my trap and stood there awkwardly. She gave me a shy smile and turned back to the cabinets, placing the jam back on the shelf.
And then let the cabinet door slam shut.
My hands fisted in my jeans and I gritted my teeth against the sound.
Think, Zeke. Think.
“You were looking for coffee?” I asked, my jaw tight with anxiety riddled tension.
“Yes, but if you don’t have any, that’s okay, too.” That little look she kept giving me, that shy but honest and hopeful look, helped to distract me and soothe my anxiety, even if only by a little bit. I held onto it, fixating on it.
“It’s over here.” I stepped into the kitchen, gesturing towards a cabinet against the countertop that had a handle affixed to the bottom of the door. I lifted it and pulled out the cart that held the items she needed. I turned to see that same surprised look on her face.
Stop thinking about her naked with that face. Stop it.
I was no better than Ollie.
I internally berated myself and instead showed her the cart.
“This is where I keep all the drink stuff, if you will. Or at least the morning drink stuff. I have a liquor cabinet in the study, as do most of my brothers, save Gideon,” I chuckled.
“Why doesn’t Gideon have one?”
“Because he’s a baby and hasn’t quite… figured himself out yet. He still lives a very bachelor-esque life.” I threw her a smirk and watched as her eyes fluttered prettily. She was a pretty thing.
