Page 58 of Love Resurrected
So far, we’ve split the tasks fairly evenly, which has been nice. Surprisingly, at least to me, Brad has done his fair share of the workload. I assumed in the beginning, given his attitude, he would slack off on most of it.
I put my notes aside and pace my living room, my shoes clicking on the wood floor. I should take them off. I’m sure not wearing shoes is more inviting and creates a casual atmosphere. Except, I don’t want them to think they have to take off their shoes, like I’m one ofthosehouses where you can’t bring outside dirt in, or whatever their reasons are.
I don’t have a line of shoes at my front door though, which is usually the big indicator that I don’t allow shoes inside. Maybe instead of my sandals, I should wear flip-flops?
Maybe you should turn your brain off for a while?
I’m right. I’m overthinking this. I blame Brad. And last night. I mean, one second, I’m moving in to kiss him on the cheek, as a thank you for picking me up and bringing me home. And, given the circumstances, I really thoughtthatwas brazen of me. By all things, I mean Brad being Brad.
I turn to give him a kiss on the cheek as a thank you. He turns at the same time to say something, and I end up kissing himin his mouth.
His lips close.
My lips move.
And just like that, he’s kissing me.
Or I’m kissing him.
It’s still unclear. Regardless, I didn’t move away. I couldn’t. I liked it too much. I can still feel his lips on mine. His tongue working its way into my mouth, and his arms snaking around my waist as he pulled me against him and deepened the kiss.
It may very well have been the best kiss I’ve ever had.
Ever.
And then, just as soon as it started, it was over.
Brad said, “Goodnight,” and was down the hill and out of sight before I even caught my breath.
I have to fan my face just thinking about it. Maybe I should turn the AC down more. Or is it up more? I mean, the temperature is going down, but the cost is going up.
Stop, brain, stop!
The sound of a truck engine turning off catches my attention.
Shit, they’re here.
I leave my shoes by the couch and walk barefoot to answer the door.
20
Brad
Nessa had texted me yesterday about getting together today to work on the recruitment fair, which I had forgotten about after my grief support group and beers with Andy.
And then, of course, Tenley.
So, this morning, I forced our company on to Tenley via text and offered to pick Nessa up on my way. Partly because I didn’t want to show up alone, and partly because I wanted to tell Nessa what happened last night. I had to tell someone who, A, wouldn't judge me, or B, wouldn’t get their hopes up that I was moving on. Yes, I told Kat in the truck last night, and even though it brings me great solace to talk to her, I know she’s dead and we aren’treallycommunicating. And, I kind of wanted to see Tenley again.
Nessa is waiting on her front porch when I pull up, a coffee thermos in one hand and a large bag in the other. I get out and meet her halfway, taking the items from her and carrying them the rest of the way to the truck.
“Such a gentleman,” she says as I open the car door for her and help her in. I smile at her praise. It makes me feel good. I mean, I help women in and out of my truck because I try to be a gentleman, but also because it’s tall and can be difficult to navigate.
“What’s in the thermos?” I ask as I slide into the driver's seat and start the engine.
“I brought some real coffee for you to try, so you can taste the difference between that sludge you serve at the firehouse and what you could be experiencing instead.”
“Thank you, Nessa.”
