Page 63 of Tinsel & Tools
“It is,” he admitted. “I kept putting it off, circling around it, writing everything but that scene. Today it finally came out.”
“You happy with it?” I looked at him again.
“Yeah. For once, I didn’t hate it when I read it back.” He leaned forward, elbows on the table. “It felt honest. Like I wasn’t hiding behind safe words anymore.”
I chewed slowly, buying myself a second. “Safe words?”
“The kind of writing that doesn’t dig deeper. It looks fine, but it doesn’t mean anything. I’ve been stuck in that for a while.”
“So this scene means something?”
“It does.” His eyes caught mine across the table. “It’s the part of the book laying the foundation for those three little words.”
I reached for my beer. “Good. That’s what you needed, right? To get to the happily ever after?”
“Not quite.” He pushed a piece of bread around his plate. “The characters will end up breaking up soon.”
“Really?”
He lifted a shoulder. “It’s the formula.”
“Formula?”
“The characters meet, fall in love, break up for some reason, learn they can’t live without each other, and then one hero fights for the other. Then they get back together and have their HEA.”
“And here I thought you just wrote sex,” I teased.
Gavin barked a laugh. “Oh, there’s sex. Dirty, dirty sex.”
“Oh really?”
“Don’t worry. I won’t make you read it.” He laughed under his breath. “You’d probably blush.”
“I don’t blush.”
“You do. I’ve seen it.”
I shook my head and took another bite, ignoring the fact that he wasn’t wrong, but also curious about the sex scenes he was talking about.
Instead of discussing it further, we finished our meal talking about mundane topics. Afterwards, I stood and reached for his plate to clean up.
“I can help,” he offered.
“Then load while I rinse.”
We worked in tandem until the last fork clinked into the silverware rack, and he leaned a hip on the counter and watched me like he could read every thought I wasn’t saying.
And maybe he could. Because what I wasn’t saying was that I liked this. I liked him in my kitchen, him making me dinner, us talking about our day, and the two of us working side by side without even thinking about it. I hadn’t had that in years, not even when I was married, and I’d sworn I didn’t want it again. Yet here I was, liking it anyway. I never pictured myself in this place, not once, but it felt right in a way I didn’t know what to do with.
“You going to call your dad tonight or in the morning?” he asked as he dried his hands.
“I’ll wait until the morning.”
We stood there a moment, then he nodded toward the living room. “You up for a movie before bed?”
“Yeah, for a little bit. My shoulder’s tight.” I rubbed at it, trying to work the knot out myself.
Gavin’s eyes caught the motion. “I can get that for you.”
