Lauralee
The diamond catches the light,sending tiny rainbow caustics scattering across the walls of my bedroom. I only get to wear my rings when I’m alone, so I put them on as soon as I walk in the door.
Admiring the pretty on my finger, I don’t know how metal and stone manage to make me feel closer to Baylor, but they do. That’s the upside to wearing them every day in private, but what about outside the house? Do I dare? I can’t. Not yet.
The secret remains hidden from the outside world, but we need to decide when to go public. Something to add to the growing list of things to discuss while he’s visiting.
Visiting . . .I hate that his stays are only temporary. I won’t pressure him to choose me or Peachtree Pass, but I still hold out hope that he will during this transition. Though I have no right since his work is in the city and I’m sure he has job offers piling up because he’s so successful and now a free agent. Call me selfish, I suppose, for wanting him living here instead of only visiting me. Maybe this transition in his career can lead back to me.
A girl can dream.
I check the time before rushing to the bathroom to touch up my makeup, brush my teeth, and try to unknot my hair before he arrives. It’s tempting to pour a glass of wine to calm my nervous energy. It’s only been five days since I’ve seen him, but my excitement has me ready to burst.
I’m not sure if I want to kiss him, seduce him, or cuddle. All of it and more, like feed him. The urge I have inside to take care of this man is off the charts. And it seemed to hit out of nowhere. But my gut tells me it started the moment he said I do. I was done for—heart and soul—wild about him.
A knock has me running to the door. As soon as I pull it open, I’m captured in his arms, my lips pressed to his, and he kicks the door closed. Before I know it, we’re moving toward the bedroom. Guess the decision has been made.
He drops me on the bed, his gaze traveling from mine to my chest, and then lower as he unbuttons his shirt. I lie there grinning up at him. Letting my gaze dip to his midsection, I meet his eyes again, and ask, “Happy to see me, stud?”
“You could say that.” Tugging his jeans down, he asks, “Are you going to get undressed, or want me to do it?”
“I was hoping—” Another knock on the door startles me upright.
Baylor pulls his jeans back up, buttoning the top when he whispers, “Who is that?”
“I don’t know,” I whisper, moving to the bedroom doorway. “Hello?”
“Honey, it’s me, Mom.”
My mouth drops open as I turn back to him. He scrambles to scoop up his clothes as I wave him to hide in the bathroom. “Be right there, Mom.” I look back at him, and silently plead, “Please tell me you locked the door.”
“Nope.” He hustles into the bathroom as I move to answer my mom.
Running my hands over my cheeks, I clear any flyaways, then pull the door open. “Hi, what brings you by?”
She looks so happy to see me standing on the patio that I feel bad for not offering to let her in. “I was heading over to Margaret’s and decided to bring by the mail that collected at the house while you were gone in Austin.” She hands me the stack, and then asks, “Not letting me in? I was hoping to use the bathroom.”
I keep the door solid in my hand, not budging a millimeter. “Oh gosh,” I start, my mind going blank. And then the worst idea naturally comes to mind. “My stomach was really upset when I got in from work. You don’t want to go in there.”
“Oh no.” Her head tilts as her eyebrows peak in despair. “I can make you some soup if you’d like. It will just take me a quick trip to the grocery store.”
I laugh. “Nothing is quick out here in the middle of nowhere.”
“True, but I’m happy to do it for you.” She peers over my shoulder, and for a brief second in time, I imagine she sees Baylor.
I shift my weight to the other foot to block her view. When her eyes return to me, I say, “No. No. It’s fine. I feel better already.”
Raising the back of her hand to my forehead, she says, “You’re a little warm and your cheeks are flushed.” If she only knew why. “Keep an eye on your temperature and call me if you need anything.”
Throwing an arm wide, I squeak, “Good as new, and you know I will.”That’s not obvious.I’m the worst actress ever. I rest my cheek against the edge of the door and smile for her, though it comes naturally. “Thank you. And there’s always the bathroom downstairs in the shop.”
“Yes. I’ll stop in before I leave.” Just when I think it’s all settled, she sighs softly, and lowers her voice. “If you ever want to talk to me, I’m always here for you.”
Not sure where this came from, but I feel exposed under her gentle gaze, like she can see right through me. I give her a hug. “I know, Mom.” When I step back inside, I say, “Thanks for bringing the mail, too. Saved me a trip.”
“Seems you’re living here now when it’s not rented out, and it was on the way.” She starts down the stairs and adds, “Love you.”
“Love you.” I close the door and lock it behind me, inhaling deep relief into my lungs. Exhaling, I call out, “Coast is clear.”
