“She’s my daughter’s nanny. An employee. Nothing more.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to mention the single-father-nanny romance trope, but I think I’ll save myself from having that embarrassing conversation. “Okay. Not that it’s any of my business if you two hook up.”Shut up, Zara.
I open my car door. “Peony is going to realize soon just how incredible you are, Garrett. You have to keep believing that.” I reach up to give him a friendly peck on the cheek.
Except Garrett turns his head at that precise second, and my lips accidentally brush his. His subtle mountain-fresh scent lassoes me, keeps me from pulling away.
I stay motionless for a beat, breathing him in, stunned at how soft his lips are. Stunned at how my lips tingle from the touch, how my heart beats faster than hummingbird wings.
A bird caws loudly from somewhere nearby, sending a wave of reality crashing over me, endlessly questioning what the hell I’m doing. I jerk away. “Oops. Sorry. Didn’t mean to do that.”
I duck into the driver’s seat before he can ask me why the fuck I kissed him. Or before he lets me know how he’s not into me like that.
I turn over the engine and reverse out of the driveway, not once daring to meet his eyes.
22
ZARA
My phone alarmchirps from the bedside table, cheerfully telling me to get my ass out of bed. I will myself to move and turn off the noise, but my arm is now heavy, immovable concrete. And it aches.
Fuck, my entire body aches.
That’s nothing new. But the intensity of the pain is stronger than usual, as if I had traveled at high speed and slammed into a brick wall. The flu? No, it doesn’t feel like the flu. I just don’t feel…right. It’s like fog has rolled into my head overnight. The fog of exhaustion that hits after I’ve spent the night tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable.
Chirp. Chirp-chirp-chirp. Chirp.
Someone…anyone…please turn off my alarm.
No magical beings heed my wish, and I inch my arm from under the cover, kill the noise with the tap of a finger. But that’s as far as things progress in terms of getting up.
I lie motionless in bed, like roadkill, eyes closed, waiting for my mental cheerleader to wave her pompoms in my face. Torah-rahat me to get going. But she’s having a nap, and I can’t find it in me to move even a fraction of an inch.
My thoughts drift to five days ago, to last Thursday, and the kiss with Garrett that wasn’t a kiss. I can’t stop thinking about it.
I can guarantee, though, Garrett hasn’t replayed it like I have. Why would he?
He certainly didn’t bring it up Friday night—thank the Lord—when he showed up for Game Night. He seemed his usual self—other than being a little stressed. But that wasn’t surprising with everything he has on his plate. He didn’t stay long. Forty minutes at most.
No, Garrett hasn’t given the kiss a second thought.
Now, if onlyIcould stop thinking about it.
A hot shower.That’s what I need. A hot shower and ibuprofen and then I’ll be fine. I have lots to do today, including getting the space that was formerly Mountain Lore ready for the renovation. That’s why my body aches so much. I hung brown paper on the windows and the entrance to the store last night, so people can’t see the work being done before I’m ready to reveal it.
And now my body is paying the price.
Are you positive that’s what it is?
Ignoring the whispered voice in my head, I focus on the large painting on the wall of five women, dancing in brightly-colored traditional dress, and draw strength from it. I push up to sit and slowly swing my legs over the side of the bed.
I sit like that for a moment, searching for the additional inner strength needed to get up. Once I find what I’m looking for, I shift my body weight forward until I’m on my feet and slowly unfold to my full height, my joints moving like rusty metal. My hips, the base of my spine, and my shoulders are stiffer than normal. Even my neck and knees seem more pissed off at me than usual.
Ibuprofen. Hot shower. In that order.
I shuffle to the bathroom, the stiffness easing slightly, like it does every morning. But usually, I’m a lot less stiff by the time I get there.
Why the hell does my body feel like it belongs to someone twice my age?
