Page 12 of Tee the Season
In the distance, the church bells chime eight times. The sound is so familiar I barely register it anymore, but Rory’s head cocks to one side, as if he’s cataloging the unfamiliar sound.
He’s leaning against the counter, arms crossed, completely at ease in my space, and I shouldn’t like how natural this feels. Shouldn’t let myself welcome the company of another person in my quiet morning. But God, it’s nice not to be alone.
When the grinding’s done, I pour the grounds into the filter. Then, I add extra water to the electric kettle and flip it on. Rory doesn’t hover, just watches with the same focused intensity he probably brings to reading greens. And I find I don’t mind being the subject of his attention. Especially, when my view includes his sexy six-pack abs and sculpted shoulders.
My phone buzzes on the counter. I glance at it while waiting for the water.
A notification on the Starlight Bay Community Page:State of emergency remains in effect. All roads closed until further notice. Town offices, schools, and non-essential businesses to remain closed.
My stomach drops.
Storytime with Santais the day after tomorrow. If the roads don’t clear by then…
“Everything okay?”
I look up to find Rory watching me, concern creasing his brow.
“Fine.” I shove the phone into the pocket on my robe, relieved when the kettle water boils.
“You sure?”
I pour the steaming water over the grounds in slow, careful circles. “It’s nothing important.”
The lie tastes bitter, but I force brightness into my voice. Chances are, even with Starlight Bay shut down, this caddy will be gone by tomorrow. Rory seems like a resourceful guy, the kind who'd find a way to get the heck out of Dodge when he wants to. No point in involving him in problems he won’t be around to help solve.
The water drips through the filter, dark and aromatic. When it finishes, I pour the brew into two Christmas mugs and hand him one.
After adding a glug of half and half to mine, I see he prefers his black.
“This is really good,” he says after the first sip, surprise coloring his tone.
I take my own sip, letting the familiar taste center me. “Looks like you’re not going to make it to the country club this morning, after all.”
He heaves a sigh. “I came to town so Hays and I wouldn’t have to meet virtually, but it looks like that’s our only option.”
He looks out the window at the wall of white, resignation in his posture.
“Welcome to New England winter.” I move to the fridge, pulling out the foil-wrapped plate of cinnamon rolls I bakedyesterday. “I hope it clears up by the time you’re supposed to fly out.”
Something flickers across his face, but it’s gone before I can read it.
“What can I do?” he asks, restless energy practically vibrating off him.
I glance up, surprised. “You want to help?”
“I’m not completely useless.” There’s a defensive edge to his voice that makes me smile despite everything.
“Okay.” I hand him the plate. “Unwrap these and put them on the baking sheet by the stove. I’ll get the oven going.”
We move around each other in the tight space, me setting the oven to warm, him carefully unwrapping the cinnamon rolls. When I reach past him, my chest presses against his back for one heart-stopping second. He goes rigid, his hands stilling on the foil.
Heat floods through me, and I step back quickly, busying myself with getting plates down from the cabinet. The one he fixed that now opens and closes perfectly.
Don’t get used to this, I remind myself.He’s temporary.
“These look amazing,” Rory says, sliding the pan into the oven. “Did you make them?”
“Yesterday. It’s my Aunt Mae’s recipe.” I set the timer, leaning against the counter. “They’re better warmed up.”
