All that care, now it was in the trash. Not precious. Nothing but garbage.
He slowly lowered the lid to the bin and pressed until it clicked closed. Then he leaned into his hand on the bin and closed his eyes.
Then he opened his eyes and moved through the door to the utility room.
The minute he hit the open doorway to the stairs, he smelled it.
Garlic.
She was cooking.
He climbed the stairs, rounded the railing and saw her in the kitchen.
She didn’t know he was there. She had her iPod earphones in and was standing at the back counter doing something.
She was wearing a tight yellow tank and her army green short-shorts.
She was not swaying, kitchen dancing or singing.
And that was when he knew that Lexie, who could throw bright even when she was asleep, had shut out the light.
Fuck.
Fuck!
She turned, moving to the stove at the side wall, she caught sight of him in her peripheral vision, her body did a small jerk then her head turned and her hand came up to pop out an earphone.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey,” he returned, walking in and dumping his workout bag on the opposite side of the island from where she was.
She watched him do this then she turned her back on him, picked up a wooden spoon and started to stir something in a skillet.
“I did some laundry today,” she told the skillet. “If you’ve got anything you want cleaned, just dump it in the utility room on your way to work tomorrow.”
He didn’t respond. Instead he leaned a hand on the counter of the island and watched her.
“I’m making spaghetti if you don’t want one of your shakes.”
“I’ll do both,” he told her.
“All right,” she replied, put the spoon down and reached to a box of spaghetti that was sitting beside the stove on the counter.
“You go grocery shoppin’?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she answered, dumping spaghetti into a big pot. “You need anything, write it down and leave it for me. I’ll go into town and get it.”
Walker again didn’t respond.
He didn’t respond because he’d f**ked up and he didn’t know how to fix it.
Days before, seconds after she told him she wanted to have breakfast with her husband and he liked hearing her say that, he liked it too f**king much, he f**ked up. Then he kept f**king up. Then he kept f**king doing it. He knew it and he couldn’t stop.
Then, the instant she pressed her mouth to his, her soft body in his lap, overwhelmed with emotion and sharing that with him, he lost control and he knew he couldn’t do that. And the only way he could manage to keep control was to stay the f**k away from her, her sweet smiles, her soft voice, her brightness, that fantastic f**king body. He couldn’t hold up. So he stayed the f**k away from her and spent a lot of time thinking about how to encourage her to stay the f**k away from him.
Then, putting that plan into action last night, he’d really f**ked up.
“Lexie –” he started but she moved quickly, not looking at him and heading toward the stairs while talking.
“Do me a favor and don’t let that boil over. I gotta go check the dryer.”
Then she was rounding the stairs and she didn’t even give him her face when she went down but kept her eyes on her feet.
When he lost sight of her thick, shining hair, he dropped his head and stared at his hand in the counter. Then he moved, mixing some protein powder with water, he drank it keeping an eye to the stove making sure the pot didn’t boil over. She came back up the stairs with her arms full of folded clothes, went to the stove, checked on things then walked to the stairs and up them.
She didn’t look at him. She didn’t speak to him.
Walker downed the rest of his drink then stared at the cup while expending a goodly amount of effort in stopping himself from hurling it across the room.
Then he put it in the sink, went to the stove, turned everything to low and walked up the stairs.
She was closing a drawer when he got to their room.
“Le –” he started but she didn’t even let him get her name out.
Without looking at him she headed toward him, eyes on the stairs, interrupting him by asking, “You gonna have a shower first? I can keep your meal warm.”
“You think you can worry about dinner in a minute and maybe look at me?” he asked back, she stopped dead and her head tilted to look at him.
He looked in her blue-gray eyes and there it was. Or, more to the point, there it wasn’t.
The light was out.
He sucked in breath.
Then he gave it to her. “I was an ass**le last night. I got a lotta shit on my mind but that wasn’t cool.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she replied instantly.
He felt his throat start to burn.
“You were right last night,” he told her. “We need to talk.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s good. It’s all good, Ty. I have a plan. I’ve got everything sorted out with Ella. Margot fixed things for me at work. Ella’s already sent some of my stuff, it’ll be here soon, maybe even tomorrow. I’m going to get a job, don’t know what, something. I bought a paper today. I’ll have a look. Ella is going to have moving quotes tomorrow. I’ll let you know. It’s all happening. It’s all good. So you can get on with…” she paused, “whatever you need to get on with.”
Then she started to move by him but he caught her, wrapping his fingers around her bicep, she stopped and her head tipped back again.
“We got more shit to talk about,” he said quietly.
She shook her head again. “No we don’t.”
“You know we do.”
Suddenly she was nodding her head. “You’re right, we do. I need to ask if it’s okay if I use one of your rooms downstairs to store some stuff and if I can set up my bed in the other one. Oh… and if I can switch out my computer with yours. I bought mine three months ago. It’s a good one.”
That burn in his throat got hotter but he forced through it, “Do whatever you gotta do. I don’t care. Now, we –”
She twisted her arm out of his hand and quickly moved around him, jogging down the stairs, muttering, “I have to check the spaghetti.”
He took in a deep breath. Then he took in another one.
Then he hissed, “Fuck!” and followed her.
She was dumping spaghetti into a colander in sink. He got close to her back and started to say her name again when suddenly the pot hit the countertop with a clatter, she whirled and took two steps back, lifting a finger and pointing it at him.
He slowly lowered the lid to the bin and pressed until it clicked closed. Then he leaned into his hand on the bin and closed his eyes.
Then he opened his eyes and moved through the door to the utility room.
The minute he hit the open doorway to the stairs, he smelled it.
Garlic.
She was cooking.
He climbed the stairs, rounded the railing and saw her in the kitchen.
She didn’t know he was there. She had her iPod earphones in and was standing at the back counter doing something.
She was wearing a tight yellow tank and her army green short-shorts.
She was not swaying, kitchen dancing or singing.
And that was when he knew that Lexie, who could throw bright even when she was asleep, had shut out the light.
Fuck.
Fuck!
She turned, moving to the stove at the side wall, she caught sight of him in her peripheral vision, her body did a small jerk then her head turned and her hand came up to pop out an earphone.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey,” he returned, walking in and dumping his workout bag on the opposite side of the island from where she was.
She watched him do this then she turned her back on him, picked up a wooden spoon and started to stir something in a skillet.
“I did some laundry today,” she told the skillet. “If you’ve got anything you want cleaned, just dump it in the utility room on your way to work tomorrow.”
He didn’t respond. Instead he leaned a hand on the counter of the island and watched her.
“I’m making spaghetti if you don’t want one of your shakes.”
“I’ll do both,” he told her.
“All right,” she replied, put the spoon down and reached to a box of spaghetti that was sitting beside the stove on the counter.
“You go grocery shoppin’?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she answered, dumping spaghetti into a big pot. “You need anything, write it down and leave it for me. I’ll go into town and get it.”
Walker again didn’t respond.
He didn’t respond because he’d f**ked up and he didn’t know how to fix it.
Days before, seconds after she told him she wanted to have breakfast with her husband and he liked hearing her say that, he liked it too f**king much, he f**ked up. Then he kept f**king up. Then he kept f**king doing it. He knew it and he couldn’t stop.
Then, the instant she pressed her mouth to his, her soft body in his lap, overwhelmed with emotion and sharing that with him, he lost control and he knew he couldn’t do that. And the only way he could manage to keep control was to stay the f**k away from her, her sweet smiles, her soft voice, her brightness, that fantastic f**king body. He couldn’t hold up. So he stayed the f**k away from her and spent a lot of time thinking about how to encourage her to stay the f**k away from him.
Then, putting that plan into action last night, he’d really f**ked up.
“Lexie –” he started but she moved quickly, not looking at him and heading toward the stairs while talking.
“Do me a favor and don’t let that boil over. I gotta go check the dryer.”
Then she was rounding the stairs and she didn’t even give him her face when she went down but kept her eyes on her feet.
When he lost sight of her thick, shining hair, he dropped his head and stared at his hand in the counter. Then he moved, mixing some protein powder with water, he drank it keeping an eye to the stove making sure the pot didn’t boil over. She came back up the stairs with her arms full of folded clothes, went to the stove, checked on things then walked to the stairs and up them.
She didn’t look at him. She didn’t speak to him.
Walker downed the rest of his drink then stared at the cup while expending a goodly amount of effort in stopping himself from hurling it across the room.
Then he put it in the sink, went to the stove, turned everything to low and walked up the stairs.
She was closing a drawer when he got to their room.
“Le –” he started but she didn’t even let him get her name out.
Without looking at him she headed toward him, eyes on the stairs, interrupting him by asking, “You gonna have a shower first? I can keep your meal warm.”
“You think you can worry about dinner in a minute and maybe look at me?” he asked back, she stopped dead and her head tilted to look at him.
He looked in her blue-gray eyes and there it was. Or, more to the point, there it wasn’t.
The light was out.
He sucked in breath.
Then he gave it to her. “I was an ass**le last night. I got a lotta shit on my mind but that wasn’t cool.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she replied instantly.
He felt his throat start to burn.
“You were right last night,” he told her. “We need to talk.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s good. It’s all good, Ty. I have a plan. I’ve got everything sorted out with Ella. Margot fixed things for me at work. Ella’s already sent some of my stuff, it’ll be here soon, maybe even tomorrow. I’m going to get a job, don’t know what, something. I bought a paper today. I’ll have a look. Ella is going to have moving quotes tomorrow. I’ll let you know. It’s all happening. It’s all good. So you can get on with…” she paused, “whatever you need to get on with.”
Then she started to move by him but he caught her, wrapping his fingers around her bicep, she stopped and her head tipped back again.
“We got more shit to talk about,” he said quietly.
She shook her head again. “No we don’t.”
“You know we do.”
Suddenly she was nodding her head. “You’re right, we do. I need to ask if it’s okay if I use one of your rooms downstairs to store some stuff and if I can set up my bed in the other one. Oh… and if I can switch out my computer with yours. I bought mine three months ago. It’s a good one.”
That burn in his throat got hotter but he forced through it, “Do whatever you gotta do. I don’t care. Now, we –”
She twisted her arm out of his hand and quickly moved around him, jogging down the stairs, muttering, “I have to check the spaghetti.”
He took in a deep breath. Then he took in another one.
Then he hissed, “Fuck!” and followed her.
She was dumping spaghetti into a colander in sink. He got close to her back and started to say her name again when suddenly the pot hit the countertop with a clatter, she whirled and took two steps back, lifting a finger and pointing it at him.
