She stops suddenly and puts her hands on her hips, eyes narrow. “How did you know I lived here?”
I tug at my beard again. There’s just no way of saying this without it being weird. “I asked my assistant to find your address.”
She gapes at me. “What? How is that even possible?”
“He’s a good assistant.” I shrug, awkwardly resting my hands on my thighs. “It’s weird I know, but I didn’t haveanother option. I didn’t have your number and I couldn’t find you online?—”
“You looked me up?”
“Of course I did. I’ve been dying to talk to you since the wedding. I’m just sorry it took me so long.”
“Why?” she asks.
“Huh?”
“Why did you want to talk to me?”
I blow out a breath. “Well hell, I don’t know. I didn’t really have a speech prepared or anything, but I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”
She leans back on the kitchen counter, her hands placed on her stomach.
“Wow, uhm,” she stumbles. “Okay.” Her gaze goes unfocused, like she’s thinking really hard.
“Areyouokay?”
“Hmm?” She looks up distractedly, resting her hands on the counter behind her. “Yeah I’m—I’m good.” Her voice rises an octave. She remains by the counter, clutching the marble with her hands and staring into space.
I stand and approach her slowly. “I think this has gone a little bit off the rails here. Shall we try this again?”
She blinks at me confused.
I wink and step around the table, picking up the flowers I left on the side. “Take two!” I throw over my shoulder as I step into the hallway.
I let the door close behind me and then knock a merry tune on the wood.
Rosie’s adorably confused face greets me as she pulls the door back open.
I thrust the flowers towards her. “Hi Rosie, I’m so sorry to just barge in like this, I brought these for you.”
I can see a smile pull at her lips and I know I’vesomehow fixed it. She takes the flowers out of my hands and brings them to her nose. “Hi Jackson, this is a surprise,” she drawls, playing along.
I place my hands on either side of the door frame and lean in conspiratorially. “A good surprise?”
She hides that gorgeous smile behind the flowers as she says, “We’ll see.”
We smile at each other for a few moments and I know I’ll do anything to make this girl smile after her tears.
“Come in,” she says softly, opening the door further.
I step inside, not once taking my eyes hers.
“I’ll just get a vase for these.”
I love how she says that. V-ah-ss.
“I love your place,” I say as I allow myself to take a look around. The kitchen is small but full of color, glasses hanging from a rack over the fridge and a large orange pot sitting on the stove top.
“Thanks,” she throws over her shoulder at the sink. “Howeverdid you find it?”
