Page 25 of The Bright Side of Brooding
Chapter Twelve
Summer
The notification for a late call woke me. This meant the storm must’ve turned out to be bad enough, or the snow melted and then refroze so the roads were treacherous. Sometimes, the clinic had to open at the normal time, but today, they’d said we’d be opening at nine thirty. I stretched and smiled at the news. Bavaria didn’t tend to stay locked in a frozen wonderland for very long, so I wanted to enjoy it while it lasted. It didn’t let up from the cold, but snow wasn’t all that common.
I pulled on layers and made an espresso to wake me, then started the coffee brewing to have with breakfast. After mixing up some blueberry bran muffins, I pushed them into the oven, pulled on my boots, and set a timer. I should be able to shovel most of the walkway and driveway, at least enough to get my car out, in twenty minutes. I could incentivize doing it quickly with the muffins, and then when I came in, it would be all warm and cozy with something baking instead of cold and quiet.
Imagine my surprise, then, when I quietly shut the door, shovel in hand, and found the snow cleared of my whole sidewalk and drive. Even the walks between my house and Mr. Meier’s. And his house had been done. And—ah, that explained it.
The scrape and slide of a shovel over pavement, the slump of snow into a pile, nearly echoed in the small circle of houses. Nick’s back was to me, and he worked with a machine-like pace. He had obviously started with me and worked his way over to his own house.
My heart glowed.How sweet. How lovely.After last night’s stubborn insistence on helping—and then that moment with the hair-tucking and the eyes—I’d thought about him nonstop until I passed out. Fortunately, after a feast night, I always slept very well, so even Nick’s gorgeous, somber face, his gray shirt fitting him like perfection, and his general appealing presence couldn’t keep me up.
But this? This was too much. He shouldn’t have done all this—not for me at least. I was happy he’d helped Mr. Meier, of course, but here he went again, tipping the scales in his favor. And again, I had no real way of paying him back. Did hewantme to feel indebted to him? Was this some kind of game, or did he feel called to be a man who drove me to insanity?
“I’ll help you, no problem. The question is, what’re you gonna do for me?”
The memory flashed in my mind, and my stomach turned to lead. I’d had so many instances like that—someone offering help, then expecting something in return. Thatsomethingvaried from asking me to let them cheat off tests in high school to expecting more physical benefits, sometimes with attempts at taking without consent. My junior year math tutor had been the one to attempt that, and I’d kneed him just like I’d planned on doing to Dennin.
I’d avoided any truly terrible assaults, but even in my military career, I’d had superiors abuse situations. Sadly, so many of my female military members could relate—a staggering number experience at least some kind of harassment, and a shocking number actual assault. Though I’d shed some of the expectation that the tit for tat would come at some point, being surrounded by people who’d faced similar issues on even a small scale served to confirm what I’d been learning all my life: if someone helps you, they’re going to cash in. And more, whatever the person wanted wouldn’t be something good.
On the outside, I could recognize that not everyone, and not everyman, wanted something from me when they offered help. I believed those people existed. Nick might even be one of them. And maybe someday, my gut response wouldn’t always be suspicion.
I’d gone a little off the ledge with that stream of thinking, but I practically stomped along the sidewalk. I marched up to him, maybe a little more peeved than I should’ve been. “Hello.”
He jolted, then his shovel dropped. He definitely hadn’t heard me coming.
He turned toward me. The early morning light was still dusky, but I could see his cheeks and nose were red from cold or exertion—probably both. He wore no hat, only an unzipped jacket, gloves, and what looked like utility pants with boots.
“Hello.”
I’d planned to grill him about shoveling my snow, but his gravelly voice and the way his gaze hit me knocked the words out of my mouth. Instead, I said, “You should come over for coffee when you’re done. I have muffins in the oven, too.”
His eyes flickered back and forth between mine for a moment before he nodded. “Okay. Should be about ten minutes.”
“See you then.”
I turned and shuffled back to the house, now intent on cleaning up before he arrived.
But… what had happened just there? I’d failed to address the favor, the newly piled-on debt, but those eyes hit me and I blanked. Then I invited him over.
So that went well.
My empty head kept me from picking a fight and railing against his doing something for me without my asking. And my gut spoke for me. I knew it, and maybe he did too—I wanted to feed him again. Somewhere in me, Ineededto. Probably that innate sense of wanting to balance things out—he shoveled, so I’d feed.
Despite knowing fairly well that this was not the main reason the invitation had jumped from my lips while my heart raced and my mind flat-lined, I’d cling to that logic anyway.
With fifteen minutes to muffin time, I had maybe eight minutes to shower, change, and look a little less haggard before the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen darkened my doorway again. And he did literally darken it, because he was something like six foot three with shoulders nearly as wide as the doorframe.
I rushed through a quick shower, thankful I’d worn my hair up yesterday and all I needed to do was pull it back again—that way I’d be ready for work later. I didn’t feel like having this interaction in scrubs, so I pulled on joggers and a long-sleeved tee, then a cozy cardigan. Hopefully, he liked cat-lady chic. Although, frankly, if one of us was a cat-lady, he obviously owned that title.
One benefit of having served in the Army, and later working in military hospitals, was that I could go from sleeping to making rounds in fifteen minutes if need be. Fortunately in my current life, I didn’t need that kind of get-up-and-go, but times like these, I could appreciate that my getting ready routine could be extremely quick when necessary.
The knock came seconds after I’d swiped on a little makeup. Made it!
My stomach somersaulted all over the place as I approached the door. Between his letter and his helping me, and the moment at the door last night, I knew he liked me. For some insane reason, this odd, beautiful man wanted to spend time with me or… orsomething. Honestly, I didn’t know what he wanted, and I wished I did. Maybe I’d just ask.
The other odd half of the equation? Our dynamic seemed to be what I’d calllightly antagonistic chic. We squabbled and disagreed constantly, even in letter form from the very start.
