He takes a shaky breath and lets it out. “I’ll be on time going forward, I promise.”
Inside the kitchen, I brew fresh coffee while Leif retrieves the pastry bag from the counter. The mundane domesticity of themoment strikes me, how he moves through my space with ease, and how we orbit each other.
“Can’t lie, I’ve been looking forward to this all day,” he says, placing the turnovers on plates I set out.
“Lunch of champions.” I pour coffee into two mugs, adding cream to mine.
When I lift the glass bottle to him in question, he shakes his head.
I file away the detail without examining why it matters.
We eat standing at the counter, neither of us suggesting we move to the table. The turnovers flake apart beneath our fingers, the apple filling sweet and spiced.
“This was nice,” Leif says when he finishes the last bite. “A perfect break from the chaos of moving and school preparation.”
“Happy to provide the distraction.”
“Not a distraction. More like…” He licks pastry flakes from his fingers. “A reminder of what normal can feel like.”
The phrasing catches me off guard, but before I can question it, he continues, “Thank you for setting aside the time to give me lessons.”
“It’s my pleasure. If I weren’t giving you lessons, I’d be finding things around the cottage to fix.”
Leif gathers his messenger bag from where he left it by the door. “I’ll be here right after drop-off tomorrow, if that’s okay?”
“Perfect,” I confirm, ignoring the warning bells in my head. “I’ll have the polyurethane ready.”
As Leif walks down the gravel path toward his car, a quiet hum fills my chest, a sensation I never would have noticed if not for Jared.
I lift a hand to rub the spot over my heart.
Is this what it felt like for all those months I didn’t recognize the bond with Jared? Do I want this with Leif?
I close the door and realize too late that my life is shifting again, and I don’t know how to stop it, or even if I should.
Chapter Twelve
Leif
Imove the cloth in my hand in small circles, spreading amber liquid across the pine surface. Emily stands beside me, tracking my movements with quiet approval.
After five days of lessons, I still find myself holding my breath when she steps back to let me take the lead. The rich scent of wood stain fills the workshop, earthy and chemical at once.
After the success of the bookshelf, we had built on those lessons and turned our hand to an entry shoe rack and bench combo.
“That’s it. Keep it even.” Emily leans closer to inspect my work. “You want to follow the wood’s natural patterns.”
I dip the cloth into the can for more. “It’s amazing how much difference the stain makes.”
“That’s why I love working with pine. It transforms completely.” She touches an unstained edge. “You’ve come a long way from a crooked birdhouse.”
I snort. “My mother would be scandalized.”
“She should be proud.” She steps back, crossing her arms. “You’ve got an eye for this, Leif. Better than you give yourself credit for.”
The compliment warms me more than it should. “I’ll send her a picture once I can move the pieces into my cabin.”
“Then I’ll build you a place where you can showcase them.” She gestures toward our creation. “You’ll be filling the rack with your boots come January.”