I want her.
She climbs out of her SUV slowly with a huge grin on her face. Thankfully, I don’t see pity. I don’t think I could handle that right now.
Not from her.
I nod toward the house as I close the distance between us. “I thought we could go inside and eat first.”
“Pizza is best either fresh or cold the next day,” Meadow’s voice is full of teasing.
“Only in college.”
The laugh that comes out of her chases away the feeling which has been following me around since grandpa died, the heaviness of it all. When she swings the passenger door open, I reach past her and grab the two pizzas.
It has me leaning into her and I can’t help myself from taking in a lungful of her vanilla and sugar scent. Fuck, she smells good.
The way she blushes after I stand up goes straight to my dick. This is probably a bad idea, but I’m certainly not going to send her away.
This is the first time that the ache in my chest feels manageable in far too long. Breathing is a gift. Now, looking down at her, her blonde hair pulled up high in a messy bun on the top of her head and her blue eyes sparkling, I can breathe.
I’m in so much trouble.
Her arm brushes against mine as she leans in and grabs a paper bag along with a basket. I arch an eyebrow in question and her blush deepens.
“I promised vodka,” she shakes the paper bag slightly, “but I couldn’t pass up baking a few things too.”
“You baked for me?”
I can’t even explain why it makes my throat tighten. Maybe because it’s been years since someone baked something just for me. Not since my grandmother passed away.
“Of course,” she says it like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
I didn’t need another reason to yearn for this woman, but here we are.
The look on her face is curious as I lead her into the farmhouse, the one which has grown and evolved throughout the years. It’s the only place that has ever been a home to me. I wonder what it looks like to her.
“You have a beautiful home,” there’s a wistful quality in her voice. “It looks lived in. People try to design the feeling and try to buy it, but you can’t. It’s either in a house or it’s not.”
“I saw the difference the moment I stepped in this house,” I admit softly.
It’s almost too painful for me to really take in the house around me. It’s the same as it has always been, but it feels empty in a way it never has before.
Can I change things? Should I not do that unless there’s a glimmer of hope that I might actually take ownership of the farm?
Which would require a wife.
My shoulders sag while I sit on the couch. No, I deflate into my place on the couch, the same place that has always been mine. Even though the couch has changed a few times over the years. Not recently though.
“Shit,” I hiss and shake my head, “I should get some drinks or cups or something.”
I go to stand up, but Meadow is there. She puts her hand on my shoulder and gently pushes me back. “We’ll save the vodka for now. I’ll grab some drinks.” Her eyes rake over my face and I can see the concern in her blue depths. “You sit,” the command is gentle, but I feel it all the same.
And, honestly, I’m too tired to fight against it at the moment.
It’s only when she comes back that I manage to murmur, “Thanks, Meadow.”
She sits without saying anything, but I can almost feel her basking in my words. When she plates up some slices of pizza, we both get one meat slice and one that looks like a garden exploded on it. For the first time in days my stomach growls. Meadow giggles and one side of my mouth twitches.
When I take a bite, I let out a groan that would be embarrassing in any other situation. Right now, I can’t seem to care. I polish off half of each slice before I take a breath, at least it feels that way.