Page 24 of Blueberry Cake
“Does he know?”
“No and honestly, I have no clue how to talk to him about it because I’m mad as hell at him.”
“We were all young and dumb at some point.” Archie had always been the voice of reason for the trio. “See how far she wants to take this. No need to jump the gun, you only just met her.”
“Canweat least meet her? I mean, if she’s after some sort of revenge and only there to take advantage of you, we’ll figure it out.”
Boyd chuckled to himself, knowing Oliver’s worries weren’t that absurd. After all, that’s how this whole thing started: revenge. Only it had shifted to something so much more. At least, Boyd hoped so.
“I’ll make sure Oliver behaves once you are ready to introduce her to us.”
Boyd nodded and tolerated the onslaught of questions about Queenie. Talking to them about her felt good. He could definitely see her as the type of woman he’d take home. If it weren’t for Luka, he would be seriously considering a long-term relationship—something he hadn’t thought about in years. But, keeping her history in mind, he didn’t want to get too attached if she decided to leave.
As always, Boyd played an awful game, but at least his rather unprofessional swing didn’t injure anyone.
After Oliver said his farewells and wandered towards his car, Archie squeezed his shoulder. “I can see that thiswoman is special to you; it’s clear in the way you talk about her. Just take it slow and see where things go. It will all clear up and I can’t wait to meet her.”
“Thank you. Hug Lee-Ann and the kids for me.”
Archie gave him a wink and walked off.
Boyd’s gate buzzer sounded early the next morning. He let Queenie in and made his way down to the visitor’s spots. The light blue romper she wore took his breath away; flowing nicely along her legs but hugging her curves flawlessly.
“You look stunning,” he complimented, taking her hand and spinning her around.
“You’re the sweetest; thank you. Let’s hope I don’t get it all messy when I drool over this brunch you’ve made.”
With a kiss to her forehead, he took her hand and bag. “I’ll lend you a shirt to throw over.” As they stepped into his apartment, he asked, “How is your quilting coming along?”
“Good. Everything’s cut, I just need to arrange it.”
“I imagine your floor is quite the mess right now.”
“Very much so,” Queenie laughed.
He already had the table set. Queenie had double and triple checked throughout the week, asking yet again if she could bring anything, but he’d declined every time. He enjoyed cooking. Doing so for someone he cared about only made it sweeter.
“Oh,” Queenie gasped. “You went above and beyond.” She took in the sight on the table: eggs, bacon, hash browns and piles of muffins and pancakes. “I could have at leastbrought the bagels.”
“I didn’t want you to.” He pulled her chair out, then ran to dig an old t-shirt out of his closet. When he came back, he helped her into the too-big shirt and grinned at the sight of her. “There is really no need to feel bad. I enjoyed preparing this for you.”
“I really appreciate it.”
Over brunch, they fell into light conversation about their week. Queenie had been spending some of her nights with her goddaughter, while work had kept her on her toes. She also shamelessly laughed when he told her about his golfing disaster, but loved that his friends still had him coming with them anyway.
“What I would give to see that.”
“Maybe one day I’ll take you, but only if you promise to stay ten feet away from me when I have a club in my hands.”
“I promise.”
She helped him clean and store away the food before they made their way down to his truck. After a while on the highway he noticed her arm changing colour. It was faint, but definitely not the same rosy tone as the rest of her skin.
Reaching out, he rubbed his thumb over the skin, finding it cool to the touch. “Are you cold?”
Queenie, who had been checking the park’s schedule on her phone, followed his gaze. “Oh, don’t worry about it.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, immediately adjusting the air conditioning anyway.
