"I take it this is…your house?" she asked.
"Yeah."
A few more seconds passed.
Finally, her upper lip twitched. “So are you going to invite me in?”
“Oh, shit.” I backed up and held the screen open wider. “Sorry. Yes, of course, come in.”
Cori stepped over the threshold and into the small entryway of my house. She eyeballed the cardboard container filled with boots, as well as my sock-clad feet. “Should I take my shoes off?”
I looked down at thesmall itemsU-Haul box I used to hold the steel-toed Wolverines I wore to jobsites.
“No. It’s fine.”
She nodded, and I motioned her into the living room. Thankfully, nothing too embarrassing was lying around. A few baseball caps and a jacket on the couch, some mugs left out on themedium itemsbox I had repurposed as a coffee table, and small piles of junk mail on top of the six other boxes stacked against the wall.
I moved around hurriedly, gathering up the loose items. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting company.”
“It’s fine,” she said. “I wasn’t exactly expecting to see you today either.” Her tone stayed flat, but she smiled tentatively, as though to test my reaction.
The smile hit me in my gut.
Cori sat down, and I looked anywhere but at her. I’d already noticed enough. The high ponytail exposing the long line of her throat and neck, the expressive sky-blue eyes behind dark, blunt lashes, and the two tiny brown moles on the apple of her left cheek.
Memories flared. I’d been young. Cocky. I’d wanted to kiss those moles.
Pushing the thoughts aside, I decided the stacks of mail needed straightening. Right that minute. The jacket and hats had to be put away neatly in the front closet.
Forcing myself to forget about her had been the right thing to do. It was still the right thing. But it was impossible to ignore her when she and her two tiny moles were in my living room. I evened out the already even boxes against the wall.
I had no idea how she'd ended up at my house since seeing me on the other side of the door had obviously been a shock.
“I…I can’t believe you’re here,” she said, mostly to herself.
“Uh-huh.”
Cori peered at the boxes along the wall. “Did you just move in?”
“Um… It’s been about two years.”
She sucked in a breath. The silence stretched and knotted in the air. “You’ve been back…two years?”
I nodded, shifting my weight from foot to foot. When I didn’t elaborate, her eyes moved around the room, taking in my sparse living space. Eventually, she asked, “Do you…live alone?”
“Yeah… Just me.” I raised my arms at my sides.
After another beat of silence, Cori gestured to the bare walls. “Not much on decorating?”
“Not really.” I looked down and ran my hands over my shirt—muddy from planting—then stuck them into my back pockets.
“And you were…gardening?”
“Mm-hmm.”
Cori scrunched her nose. “I gotta be honest, Deck. I remember you being more of a talker.” A nervous little guffaw left her throat.
Carajo.
