Page 7 of Code Word
“He wasn’t sure he could swing it. Maybe in a couple of days, though. He was gonna check with Jer. They might come up.”
He nodded again. “Cool.”
“So you’re stuck with just me for three days, at least.”
He rolled his eyes. “Oh, the travesty.”
“Fuck off,” I joked. “Come on, let’s go check the firewood sitch.”
Back in the beginning, there’d been talk of hiring someone to maintain the place, to stack firewood, to check the water, that kind of shit. But we decided against it because that’s what we liked about it.
If we wanted people to do everything for us, we’d stay in Hollywood.
Coming up to the cabins, where we had to cart wood and clean fireplaces, was part of the fun for us.
It was good to be outdoors doing outdoorsy shit. Hauling a wheelbarrow full of chopped wood, catching some sunshine and fresh air was good for the soul.
And a few hours later, by the time we got all the wood brought down and the barn dusted and set up, fires made and dinner in the slow cooker, I was feeling pretty good.
Luke had smiled and laughed a few times, and the physical work and sunshine seemed to help him too.
I knew we’d have to talk at some point, but it was a good start.
We ate vegetable soup, which was mediocre at best, but it was perfect as the temperature dropped outside. Lukedevoured his, and afterwards, we sat in my little cabin by the fire.
He was quiet. Well, quieter than he normally was. But he seemed to revel in the peace, and I was happy to let him just be.
It was so easy with him. We’d always had the ability to just chill around each other. No need for mindless small talk or pretending to smile, like I’d just spent a week doing with Bec’s friends.
It was just so fucking nice.
“Man, I gotta say,” I said, stretching my legs out, “it’s nice, just us two. No fake bullshit. No pretenses.”
“You talking about the love-pray-eat crowd?”
I snorted. “Yeah. It was a long week.”
“Yeah, it was,” he murmured.
I looked at him then, trying to read the truth in his tired eyes, but after a beat, he made a face I couldn’t read—like he wanted to talk to me, like he wanted to say what was on his mind—but instead, he shot up off the couch. “I should go,” he said, swallowing thickly, pulling his hands back into the sleeves of his hoodie. “Thanks for dinner. It was great. I’ll cook tomorrow, though it’ll suck, I’m sure. I should go check on my fire. I’ll see you in the morning.”
I was a little stunned at the urgency in his voice. Or was it panic? I wasn’t sure.
He got to the door and stopped before I could think of what to say. “Thank you. For bringing me here. For coming with me.” And that look was back, and fucking hell. Was it pain?
“Luke,” I tried, but he was out the door and gone.
Christ.
I had to remind myself we had a week up here. We had enough time for him to rest, clear his mind, and I knew he’d talk when he was ready.
I’d wait for him, at his own pace, whenever he was ready.
I’d wait for as long as it took.
THREE
The next morning,I was up early with fried egg and bacon sandwiches and coffee ready to go. I carried it over to Luke’s cabin on a tray, only spilling a bit when I almost tripped up the last step. “Motherfucker,” I grumbled.
