I wish I could fuse
My love to you
With one more goodbye kiss
I’m yours to miss
I hate being far away
But you know that I can’t stay
So please let me fuse my heart to you
My heart reached out and grabbed his, trying to keep it here, trying to keep him here. But I knew the moment I stepped away, I would lose hold of him. I wanted to tell him how I felt, wanted to beg him to stay, but today wasn’t the day. I wasn’t sure if any day was the day.
I should ask him to tell me more about Alice May. Ask him all the questions I was afraid to voice. But I didn’t. Because I was more of a chicken than Sergeant Cornflakes.
He pulled back when the song ended and used his thumbs to caress my cheeks. I cringed when I saw the wet front of his shirt. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice gravelly.
“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”
He kept me close to his side as he let us out the front door and locked it behind him. As we walked up the path, my rooster waddled toward us, did a circle, then scurried back to his coop behind the house. I liked to think he was checking on me.
Once inside, Luke put me on the couch, took my shoes off, and lifted my legs so I was lying down. He grabbed a blanket and covered me, tucking me in like a burrito. Going into the kitchen, he made my favorite tea and set the cup on the coffee table.
He sat on the edge of the couch and brushed my hair out of my face. “Nap. If you feel like dinner later, I’ll come over and cook. I’ve been looking up some gluten-free recipes.”
My eyes welled up again and I bit my lip, trying to control my emotions. He was perfect…except for the leaving thing. “Stay,” I whispered. I meant more than right now, more than today. I meant always.
He smiled sadly. “I would, Reeses, but I need to take care of something. Text me when you wake up.” He took his time kissing me, making sure to remind me how much he cared about me. His lips moved delicately over mine, chaste and innocent, but my heart still raced and my toes still curled.
Maybe I needed to add in some cardio to my week. Could a heart explode from kissing? Who cares; what a way to go.
He touched my nose with his index finger. “Text me later.”
I watched him walk away and out the door. My heart, which had been clinging to his so tightly, was left pouting when we were alone again.
Chapter Nineteen
Edie’s Tip #9: Good headlights are like a good bra: supportive and stabilizing when you’re on the move.
Despite Luke’s orders, I didn’t nap. I drank my tea, ate a bowl of ice cream, washed my face, and jumped on the stationary bike in my basement. With ear-splitting music and sweat pouring off of me, I made a plan.
There was almost no way I was going to get the money to buy the shop from Luke in time, but I was going to go down fighting. When my legs were jelly, I took a quick shower and put my damp hair into a braid. Then I called Jami.
“Hey, sissy!” He sounded happy and my sharp mood dulled around the edges.
“You with Caden?”
I could practically hear his smile. “You were right. You can gloat later.”
I laughed. “Excellent, I’ll hold you to that.” I took a deep breath. “I need your help.”
“Shoot.”
“How fast can you bake like three dozen cupcakes and a few loaves of zucchini bread?” While I’d inherited the car genes, Jami had our grandma’s baking genes. It was his attention to detail and the way he could extrapolate data. He hadn’t ventured into the gluten-free side yet, but I was convinced he would make my next birthday cake.
I heard a rustling as if he were moving the phone from one position to another. “Uh...depending on a lot of things, but with your double ovens, extra muffin pans, and nothing terribly fancy, a few hours? Why?”
“I’m going to have a bake sale. And maybe a car wash. Get your car washed and then get some baked goods! It’s perfect.”
He chuckled. “Okay, when?”
I bit my lip. “This Wednesday?”
There was a long pause. “Like in three days Wednesday?”
“Yes?” I said, but it came out like a question.
He sighed. “Yeah, okay. I’m calling Kristy too. She can help. And maybe Fran from the bakery will donate something.”
I squealed. “You’re the best!”
“Yeah, yeah. But I’m not washing cars. “
Shop staff meetings were typically on Sundays, although with usually more than an hour notice. Like my grandpa, I tried to avoid closing the shop early for any reason, with the exception of inclement weather. Even then, I had to be in the office as there were only two tow trucks in Grenadine. I took the day shift and a local bar owner, Earl, took the night shift for fun. Hey, whatever floated his boat...er, towed his truck?
When the crew met me in the employee lounge around three, they were antsy. Lots of whispering and side-eyes happening. “Should we be freaked?” Rosa asked, her eyes narrowing. “I can’t tell. Her cheek isn’t twitching.”
Henry lifted his glasses off his face and gave me a quizzical look. “You look like you did when Chris Osgood retired from the Red Wings.”
I pointed at him. “You know he was my Wing, Henry.”
“Oh God, you’re leaving with Luke and going to let him impregnate you for the next decade!” Jackie, my part-timer, cried.
Tamicka shrugged. “I mean, have you seen that man? Have you seen his hands?”
“The man does have nice hands, Edie,” Henry added.
Oh dear Lord, this had to stop. I mean, not that I wouldn’t let Luke impregnate me—NO, I was not going down that road today. I put my fingers in my mouth and whistled. “Yo, listen up!”
Everyone stared at me.
“We need to talk.” I swallowed, my throat dry.
“I knew I should’ve gone to college,” Rosa muttered before saying a few choice words in Spanish. “Mi madre is going to kill me if I lose this job.”
I silenced her with a glare and then told them everything. Well, not everything, just about the shop. When I finished, there was total and complete silence. All of them were staring at me like I had grown a unicorn horn, changed into a leotard, and announced I was moving to the woods to “be one with nature.” Ew. Nature.
Henry stood and walked over, pulling me into his arms. “Your grandpa would’ve rolled up that newspaper for not telling us this the day it happened!”
I held onto his forearms when he pulled away. “I know. I was so freaked, I didn’t know what to do.”
His mustache twitched. “Ed used to say, ‘Sure, you can rebuild an entire car yourself. But it’s easier with friends.’”
I sucked my lips into my mouth and nodded. He did say that, and I needed to listen.
Jackie had her hand up. “I’m willing to take a thirty percent pay cut for the next month if it means putting more money into the fund. I have some savings.”
Chieka put her hand up. “Me too, Edie.”
Rosa raised her hand. “I can’t take a pay cut. The money helps mi familia. But I’ll help with whatever you need outside of work—social media, fundraisers, anything you got.”
I snapped my fingers and pointed at her. “We’re going to host a bake sale and car wash on Wednesday. Bring me whatever food you can! Call everyone you know.”
She nodded. “I’ll get José and Diana to come help wash cars. I’ll make some churros. White people love churros.”
Tamicka nodded. “Girl, so do brown people.”
“And tan people!” Chieka added.
Rosa laughed. “Okay, okay, everyone loves churros. I get it.”
Henry nodded. “I’ll get Delores to wrangle up something and I’ll grab the equipment we need for a car wash. I have a Costco membership.”
I would not cry. I would not cry.
“You guys,” I sobbed, covering my face and bending over at the waist. They all tackled me in a group hug
. We stayed locked together until Sergeant Cornflakes walked into the room, looked at us with his judgy, beady eyes, crowed, and waddled away.
We all cracked up and Rosa ran after him, taking pictures. “I’m making him his own social media account,” she called. “He’s going to rule the world one day!”
“Or my Crock-Pot!” I yelled back.
Rosa poked her head back into the room. “You wait and see, Edie.” With a wink, she was gone.
I clapped and turned back to everyone. “Get out of here! Go enjoy the rest of your weekend. Remember, tell everyone about the carwash and bake sale. Wednesday! All day.”
By the time four thirty rolled around, Tamicka had made a press release for the Grenadine Herald and posted the information all over social media. Rosa was rambling in a text about some event page she created and promised her siblings were in for sure. Delores had called me about recipes and then promptly called her sister to help.
I was so engrossed in scribbling down the plan in my notebook, I screamed when my phone chimed. Looking around to make sure no one saw me in my empty house—okay, maybe I was losing my mind—I unlocked the screen to see a text from Luke.
Luke: You awake and up for company?
I smiled.
Me: Yes please! Come over.
I stared with impatience at the three dots that announced he was typing. “Come on!” I told the phone. In reality, it was probably thirty seconds, but it seemed like an hour.
Luke: Be there in twenty.
Luke: To be clear, I’m not expecting anything more than to feed you dinner
I pursed my lips. Well, how did I feel about that? It was a really, really good idea to not do anything with Luke. But we were going to be alone in my house.
Me: Okay
Okay?! What the hell kind of response was that? How about Can I kiss you again—No. Stop.
Checking the time, I let out a little scream and ran upstairs. I needed to put on the right outfit—one that was cute but not trying too hard but not too casual. I settled on a scoop neck tank top, a bra other than a sports bra, and my favorite jeans.
After pulling my hair from its braid, I sprayed some of the fancy hairspray from Kristy onto the waves and threw on some mascara and Chapstick. I left my feet bare, but only because the doorbell rang as I was standing in front of my sock drawer.
Luke smiled so wide when he saw me, I forgot my middle name. “You look perfect,” he said, stepping into the house and kissing my cheek. My knees wobbled. I stood there like an idiot for a few moments too long, before my brain caught up.
I grabbed the two paper bags from his hands and nodded to the kitchen. “Let’s see what you can wrangle up.”
Luke chuckled. “Edie, my entire family came from Italy. If I can’t cook you a little pasta, mia madre will haunt me.”
I laughed, setting his bags on the counter. “Well then, proceed.”
Watching Luke cook was like a drug. He was confident, calm, and his brow always furrowed when he read over the recipe. I was addicted. Despite my offers to help, he brushed me off and set a glass of wine in front of me.
Fine by me; I was enjoying the view. He was wearing dark jeans and a soft light-green shirt that showcased his shoulders. The shirt made his eyes glow like lanterns, and those jeans...and his ass...I couldn’t look away.
“How was the rest of your day?” he asked as he dumped a mound of vegetables in some sizzling oil.
“Good! I planned a bake sale and car wash.”
Luke nodded. “Awesome. When?”
“Wednesday.”
“I’m there.” He opened up my spice cabinet and then looked at me. “This was not what I expected.”
I laughed as he reached into the perfectly organized cupboard. “That was all Jami. He said my haphazard selection of store brand spices was shameful and promptly replaced and reorganized everything for my birthday.” I shrugged. “I don’t cook much.”
Will, like Luke, had been a great cook. Something clearly inherited from their mother. It had been a steady diet of Ray’s and brinner—breakfast for dinner—since I went gluten-free a year and a half ago. Will had no desire to change his recipes or cook two separate meals, so he just made whatever he wanted and left me to my scrambled eggs. In hindsight, that probably was another red flag.
Luke selected a plethora of spices and started putting them on things. He had a pot of boiling water and another one of amazing smelling sauce. Special gluten-free bread was warming in the oven and my mouth watered in anticipation. I had reviewed the label to make sure, but there was no need to worry. Luke was on top of it.
I was trying very, very hard to ignore the way my skin heated. It was totally just the oven. “What’d you do today?”
He looked back over at me before turning back to the stove. “Went and saw Dad. Made some calls. Thinking about staying another week. Help get some of Dad’s stuff organized, things like that.”
My eyes widened. “Really? What about work? What about the money?”
The spatula hit the pan so hard, it rocked it. “It’s all a maybe right now.” He shrugged. “Playing it by ear.”
We were both silent as he tasted the sauce and then shut off the burners. He began plating the food when the timer rang. The moment he opened the oven door, the warm, toasty scent of garlic filled the air. I groaned out loud. The baking sheet clattered on the counter.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
Luke nodded. “Yep, just...” He looked over at me. “Never mind. Let’s eat.”
When he’d finished prepping everything, he brought the plates to the bar and set them down. A beautiful rainbow of vegetables mixed with zucchini noodles, grilled chicken, and a splash of tomato sauce stared back at me. He had laid two pieces of the garlic bread across the top with freshly grated parmesan.
I almost fell off my stool. “Wow,” I whispered, reverently.
“Eat up.”
My eyes were wide as I looked between him and the most gourmet meal I had eaten since my doctor told me to go gluten-free. “Thank you,” I whispered, hoping to express everything in those two words.
He laughed. “You haven’t tasted it yet. It could be awful.”
I shook my head. “No one but Ray has cooked me dinner since I stopped eating gluten. It’s just…it’s nice.” Most gluten-free food was disgusting or full of sugar and was three times as expensive. I had cried after many a grocery store trip.
But Luke just walked in and made me dinner like it didn’t faze him. My poor little heart couldn’t take it. It tried to crawl out of my chest to hug him.
He booped my nose. “Well then, you’re welcome. Eat.”
The moment the taste explosion hit my mouth, I knew if I wasn’t in love with Luke before, I was most definitely in love with him now. “Oh gawd,” I moaned around the mouthful. “Itssogood!” The sauce was sweet but sharp, the chicken juicy and crisp, the noodles al dente.
Luke stared at me as I licked the sauce off my lips. His eyes darkened to Fathom Green, and my stomach flipped. If this food wasn’t so damn good, I would’ve shoved our plates to the floor and climbed him.
But first, food.
I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t do more than moan and groan and make appreciative noises as I practically licked my plate clean. When I had finished shoving every last drop of sauce and crumb into my mouth, I sat back with my hands over my stomach. “That was…heaven.”
Luke smiled his little boy smile. “Yeah?”
I knocked his knee with mine. “Yeah.” He stood up and started gathering dishes. I grabbed his arm. “Nope! You cooked, I clean. It’s the rules.”
He scoffed. “I’m not going to make you clean when I offered to make you dinner.”
I poked his chest. “I know you’ve been gone for a few years, but I’m sure, SURE you wouldn’t cross my grandma’s rules in her own house.”
He grimaced. “Gah, the grandma card. Not cool, Becker. Not cool.”
I laughed. “Go pick out a Wii game, More
tti. I want to kick your ass.”
“You still have a working Wii?”
I shrugged. “How else would Jami and I have our annual Wii Tournament of Doom without one?”
“I’m not really sure why I ask questions. The answers are never what I expect them to be.”
“Ah-ha! That’s why.”
He lifted his hands in a “what are you gonna do” gesture and walked into the living room. As soon as he was gone, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and texted Kristy.
Me: Help! I want to suck his face.
I distracted myself with putting away the food until she replied.
Kristy: I think u should go 4 it
Me: But he’s my business partner. He’s leaving. HE’S WILL’S BROTHER!
Kristy: He’s the guy uv been in <3 with since you were 8
I rolled my eyes.
Me: I have not!
Kristy: Just bc it took u 17 yrs to figure it out doesn’t mean the rest of us didn’t catch on
Kristy: Stop txting me & go get some xxx
Me: Whatever
With a huff, I locked my phone and shoved it in my pocket and started scrubbing the pots and loading the dishwasher. The rhythm and routine had calmed me by the time I wiped down the sink. Grabbing two hard ciders and a package of Edie-safe cookies, I walked into the living room to find Luke flipping through the basket of games.
I handed him a cider and he held up Mario Kart. “I mean, is it really worth having any other game when we know this is the only game worth playing?”
“Yeah, ‘cause I have to give you the chance to win at something.” I shrugged. “We all know Mario Kart is mine. Want to pick another game?”
He raised his eyebrow. “Oh. It’s on, Becker.”
I took a long sip from my cider and took a deep breath. “Bring it, Moretti.”
Chapter Twenty
Edie’s Tip #14: Learn to drive a stick. It’s impressive, the coolest cars have them, and you’ll inevitably need to drive one during a zombie apocalypse. Also, the dirty jokes are infinite.
Headlights, Dipsticks, & My Ex's Brother Page 13