Page 20 of Dove
It matched the one high on his cheekbone, another hint of it on the curve of his lower lip. He must have gotten it straight to the face.
My hand slipped into his as I let him haul me up. It was calloused and bigger than mine. Warmed by his touch, my hand grew sweaty. Once I was on my feet, I pulled away hastily, wiping my sweaty palm on my jeans.
“Sorry,” he apologized again, his expression sheepish as his eyes followed my hand. “I’m covered in oil. Got a whole face full of it when I drilled through the old pan.”
“It’s okay,” I replied awkwardly. I couldn’t very well tell him it wasn’t the oil I was wiping away, but my own weird reaction to his palm against mine. “Is that supposed to happen?” My belly flipped at the question; I should be askingmyselfthat.
“No.” He laughed, bending down to swipe his dirty tank top off the floor, using it to dab at his forehead. “That was my own dumb fault. I shouldn’t have been drilling right underneath it.” He sighed. “I was too slow with the drip pan.” He leaned incloser to me. “I’ll let you in on a little secret, oil doesnottaste good.”
A laugh left me, easing the tight tension building in my stomach. “Good to know.”
“Come on.” He nodded back toward the house, flinging his shirt onto a cluttered work desk. “That’s gotta drain before I can fix it, and Ineed to clean up. You hungry? Wanna grab some lunch while we wait?”
When he turned to look at me, I tried not to let my eyes stray down like they wanted to. There was a smear of oil along the dip of his collarbone, and my eyes were drawn to it like a poor bug mesmerized by a bright light.
Ugh, I must be hungry, because my thoughts were gettingweird.
My blue eyes met his brown, inquiring ones as I agreed, “Lunch sounds good.”
7
DOVE
As if I were a teenager all over again, I felt haunted by Josh’s presence.
It had been a week, and he was still here.
Each morning, I woke surprised to see his car in the driveway—though a tiny piece of me (okay, maybe more than a tiny piece) was relieved by that.
Coming down the steps in the morning and spying Josh resting lazily against the kitchen counter with a fresh mug of coffee, the haze of sleep slowly escaping his eyes with each sip, was a welcome one, even if itdidhave my stomach flipping every time he greeted me with that drowsy smile of his.
He’d left without so much as a goodbye. I reminded myself of that each time my fluttering heart betrayed me at the sight of his half-hidden smile behind his favorite chipped blue mug. The very one that had stayed tucked back into the corner of the cabinet for three years, untouched. Now he was back, causally using that mug as if he’d never been gone, without so much as an explanation as to why. Beyond the obvious, of course. He wouldn’t even be here if our parents hadn’t died. Harsh, buttrue. Our parents had been laid to rest. So, what was he sticking around for?
Unless—
The thought that he was staying forme…
No. I wouldn’t allow myself to fall back into the maddening spiral of some stupid teenage crush.
Three years hung between us, filled with silence and distance andbetrayal—at least on my end. It should have been enough to have me curling my lip up at him, chasing him off the property. Yet a week was all it took for the feelings I’d buried in his absence to rise up within me, like he’d never left at all.
I found myself aware of his every move, even when we didn’t cross paths, considering I made sure we worked separately around the farm. He’d taken my cold shoulder seriously, something he’s never done in the past. Anytime I was angry, he gave me space and time to process it, but he always came to me first: with a joke to crack the harsh set of my mouth, a peace offering that softened the hard glint in my eyes, or even just a hug when he knew I needed it most. Right now, my anger was fiery and hostile, wholly directed at him, and I’d kept him at arm’s length for a very valid reason. But I hadn’t expected him to maintain that distance.
An evenbiggerpart of me was hurt by it.
The horses grazed idly out in the pasture while I mucked their stalls, enjoying the beautiful day as I freshened their water and tidied up their spaces. It was a daily chore I could do with my eyes closed or while my thoughts wandered, which meant I had plenty of time to think of a certain dark-haired, broad-chested someone.
By the time I was done, their spaces smelled fresh with the scent of clean hay, and my pockets were loaded with forgotten sugar cubes I’d used to lure them outside. Wiping at my sweaty brow, my aching feet shuffled along the packed dirt floor as Imade my way out of the stable, intent on finding myself a cold drink and a bite to eat.
Glancing up at the sun as I stepped out, my eyes squinted involuntary against its glare only to find it lower in the sky than I anticipated. Past lunch time, then. Perhaps my thoughts had distracted me just atinybit more than I’d thought, considering it had taken me longer than it normally did.
I couldn’t stop the sweep of my eyes over the sprawl of land, admiring the green, vibrant landscape.Maybesearching for someone in particular. Since I’d been stuck in the stables for most of the morning, I wasn’t sure what Josh had gotten up to.
Distracted by thoughts of him, and fueled by a vocal stomach, my feet took me in the direction of the house on muscle memory. With one last searching scan of the horizon, my head turned to follow just a second before my cheek collided with a wall of something solid and warm. Dull pain radiated across my cheek as the air in my lungs rushed out of me in a breathywhoosh.
A large, roughened hand wrapped around my bicep, steadying me.
“Sorry,” came the familiar cadence of Josh’s deep drawl. “Didn’t see you comin’ around the corner.” His hand slipped off my arm a second later, and I shivered at the absent caress. Despite the heat of the day, goosebumps broke over my flesh.
