“I didn’t mind.” Her gaze shifted to the box he’d set on the table. “That’s from the Chocolate Dragon, isn’t it?”
“It is. Is that a good thing?”
“That’s a very good thing. Their chocolates are amazing. And from the size of that box, you bought them all.”
He laughed, a sound sweet to her ears. “No, it’s one of those big chocolate eggs they make.”
Her eyes widened. “Really? Those are gorgeous. I’ve never had one. Just the chocolates.” The eggs were also very expensive. Easy had really set out to make a point with his apology. She shook her head, a little dazed by his earnestness. “You really didn’t have to do all this to say you were sorry.”
He broke into a full-on smile. “I felt like I did. I was sure I’d really messed things up.”
“I felt the same way.”
“Plus, I owe you.”
She made a face. “What do you owe me for?”
“For getting me out of the pub last night.”
“You would have done the same for me. Right?”
“Damn straight.”
He stared at the box of chocolates for a long couple of seconds, then back at her. “I’m glad this morning wasn’t the end of us.”
“Me, too.” She went to the fridge and got out eggs and milk. “Pancakes okay?”
“Sounds great.”
“You want coffee?”
He laughed. “Almost more than I want you, and that’s saying something.”
His words sent a tingle of pleasure through her, causing more blushing.
He shook his head like he’d just realized what he’d said. “Sorry if I embarrassed you. I sometimes say things that are better left as thoughts in my head. Comes from talking to myself. All that solitary time as a writer.”
“I know all about solitary time.” She grinned, not quite able to look at him. “But I guess that makes us even for the first time since we met since I basically said things to you better left in my head.”
He was still grinning. “It was nice to hear them.”
“Um, so about the coffee.” She used her elbow to point to the Keurig, since she was cracking eggs. “You know how to use one of those?”
He looked at the machine. “I can handle that. You want one?”
“I’d love another, but you make yours first.” She got the pancake mix out and went to work on the batter while he made coffee.
In no time, she had a griddle sizzling with pancakes and a fresh cup of coffee at her side.
He was at the table, drinking his. “So what’s this hope you mentioned?”
She turned and leaned on the counter so she could face him. “I don’t know if you’ve heard about it already, but there’s a local legend about a book somewhere in the enchanted forest here. A book that, if you can find it and write your name in its pages, will take away whatever curse you’re living under.”
He was about to take a sip of his coffee. He paused with the mug halfway to his mouth then, after a second, took a drink and set it down. “But it’s just a legend?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve looked for the book since I’ve lived here and obviously haven’t found it, since I’m still forgettable. But recently, the Evermores’ little sister, Gracie, has been out and about more than was typical for her. And from what I’ve overheard, it’s because her curse was lifted.”
He seemed to ponder that. “Interesting. You want to go look?”
“I was thinking we might have better luck together than I’ve had alone.”
“Makes sense.” He nodded, but he didn’t look nearly as excited as she’d expected.
“You don’t love the idea. Why not?”
“I do love the idea. It would be great to put myself back to rights that easily. But I don’t have the time right now. Not with my looming deadline.”
“Your book. Right.” She’d kind of forgotten about that. “Well, as soon as it’s turned in, then. Speaking of…I still want to help you unpack.”
“That’s a lot of work.”
“And you don’t have time to do it.”
He sighed, but there was warmth in his eyes. “No, I don’t. I would really appreciate the help. I can’t find anything in that house. It’s all still in boxes.”
“I can start this afternoon. I have one job of my own to finish, then I’ll be over.”
“I’ll leave the front door unlocked.”
She checked the pancakes. They were bubbling at the edges, so she flipped them. “What’s your goal for today on the book?”
“A chapter at minimum. If I can do a chapter, chapter and a half, a day, I’ll be in good shape.”
“Excellent. Pancakes will be done in a minute.”
“They smell great.” He stood. “I should set the table.”
“Thanks. Cabinet over the dishwasher and drawer to the right of it.”
He got out plates and silverware. “This is nice. It’s been a while since I’ve had a home-cooked meal I didn’t make myself.”
“In that case, I wish it was fancier.” She loaded a plate with pancakes, grabbed the syrup from the pantry, and came to the table.
He brought her coffee over, then took his seat next to her. “No, this is perfect.”
So was he. She nodded. “Good. I’m glad. It is nice.”
They helped themselves to the stack of pancakes, the butter, and the syrup, then started eating. It took one bite for Ginny’s appetite to come back.
Easy helped himself to another pancake with two still on his plate. “These are great.”
She laughed. “I’m glad you think so. I’m a decent cook, but not a great baker. Pancakes are the closest I get to cake.”
He smiled, then his expression turned serious again. “Do you really think that book exists?”
She took a breath before answering. “I want to believe it does.”
“Then maybe I need to work harder on the book and make time to visit that forest.”
Chapter Fifteen
Having someone in the house might have bothered him under any other circumstances, but since that someone was Ginny, he felt completely at ease. A little guilty, maybe, about her doing so much for him, but he’d already made his mind up to repay her in some way.
At the moment, that way was going to be by making time to search for the magic book she’d talked about.
He’d seen the excitement in her eyes when she’d brought it up. And as much as he couldn’t afford the time, he’d have to find a way. Sleep less. Write more.
Something.
Because he didn’t want to disappoint her. Even if it seemed like a pretty farfetched idea to him. Sure, this town was all about farfetched, but a book that could remove your curse just by writing your name in it?
That was hard to buy into. Even for a fiction writer.
She was working in the kitchen, unpacking boxes and putting stuff away and generally trying to make it functional. He’d given her full control, told her to set it up however it made sense. He pulled his headphones away from his ears for a moment, listening for her.
He smiled. She was singing. He didn’t recognize the song, and she didn’t seem to know all the words, but the sound was sweet and happy.
It gave life to a feeling he’d been working hard to suppress. That feeling of need that his father had explained to him a long time ago. How someday, he’d meet a woman, and the wolf in him would want her. Not in an ordinary way, but in a way that was all about the wolf. And the desire to protect and possess a woman. To make her his mate. To make them a family.
Easy took a long breath, then blew it out slowly.
He didn’t want that feeling. Not now. Not when he couldn’t do anything about it. How could he in his current condition?
He tipped his head back against his chair and stared at the ceiling like it might suddenly provide the answer.
After a moment, he shook his head, told himself to focus on what he could control, the book in front of him, and got back to work.
&
nbsp; Progress was slow. Each word was a slog. Each finished paragraph a genuine victory. In an hour, he managed two and a half pages.
Finally, in frustration, he took his headphones off and got up. He needed a short break. Something to distract him from how badly the word count was going.
He went into the kitchen, leaning against the doorjamb to enjoy the sight of Ginny, up on her tiptoes on a stepstool, stretching to put a stockpot on the top shelf of a cabinet. Her shorts had ridden up a little, showing off her very curvaceous backside. She was still singing.
Silently, he padded up behind her, trying his hardest not to give in to his wolf and take a nibble of the tanned thigh now at eye level. “Need some help?”
She yelped and jumped and almost fell off the stepstool. The pot clattered to the floor as she turned.
He grabbed her, pulling her into his arms before she really did fall. “Sorry, did I scare you?”
“Yes! Bad wolf.” She smacked his shoulder, but the sparks in her eyes weren’t angry. “You’re supposed to be writing.”
“I know, but I need a break. I’m having a hard time finding my zone today.” She was still in his arms, warm and pliant and seemingly uninterested in changing her current position. “So I thought I’d see what you were doing.”
She shook her head, her tone thick with pretend scolding as she said, “This is not the plan, Mr. Grayle.”
He ran his tongue over his teeth. “No, it’s not. But sometimes the plan changes.”
“I’m not done with this kitchen.”
He couldn’t take his eyes off her. “Looks done to me.”
She grinned. “What kind of break do you have in mind?”
“How about…” He tried to think of something that wouldn’t get him slapped. “A swim?”
“I don’t have a suit.”
“That’s not a problem.”
“Oh, sure.” She snickered.
“I meant because you live right next door. Get your mind out of the gutter, Ms. French. I know you’d like to see me skinny-dipping again, but I’m not that kind of wolf.”
She giggled. “Yeah, right. Okay. I’ll go get my suit.”
He started to put her down, then swung her back into his arms again. “Unless you’d rather go for a drive out to the enchanted forest.”
Her lips parted, and a little gasp came out. “I’d love to. But that’s too long of a break. That could be the whole rest of the day. I think a quick swim is better. Then we can both get back to work.”
“I had no idea you were such a taskmaster.” He put her down, but on the counter so she was facing him and he was standing between her knees. He pulled her close, threaded his fingers into her hair, and kissed her. “I like that about you.”
“Thanks.” Her eyes flashed with a wolfy gleam. “I could be harder on you, if you want.”
A low growl slipped out of him as their banter heated him up. “Don’t play with me, woman. I will bite you.”
She shrieked and slipped off the counter and out of his grasp, laughing. “I’m going to get my suit. I’ll see you in the pool.”
When she got back, not wearing the tiny pink bikini, but a suit that covered slightly more and had one strap safety-pinned in place, he was already in the pool, swimming some laps and trying to work out the rest of the chapter that needed writing.
She came down the steps into the water. “You look like you’re somewhere else.”
He swam toward her, putting his feet down as he reached the shallow end. “Trying to figure out what happens next. What took you so long?”
“I had to find a safety pin to secure the strap.” She tipped her head. “Wait. Trying to figure out what happens next…with us?”
He smiled. “With the book. I think I know what happens next with us.”
“You do, do you?”
He nodded and took her hands, pulling her deeper in. “Yes, but I can’t tell you, or that would ruin the ending.”
She stuck her tongue out at him. “Back to the book, then. What’s happened so far?”
“You want to hear all this?”
“Yep. Lay it on me.”
He wasn’t used to brainstorming with anyone. He took a breath and mapped out the plot as it stood so far. “And now he’s standing on a cliff with a horde of villagers coming after him and only half the map he needs to find the girl.”
She thought for a few seconds. “He should jump.”
Easy’s brows shot up. “To his death? I don’t think my editor or my readers would like that.”
“No! He should have one of those little parachutes tucked away in his backpack. Or one of those flying-squirrel suits, whatever those are called. Then he could glide to safety, which would only seem like safety until the next bad thing happens.”
“Huh.” He let that roll around in his brain. It was certainly a very Tomahawk Jones thing to do. “I could make that work. Maybe not the wing suit, but the parachute. Especially if I changed a few things in the previous chapter. I don’t know why I didn’t come up with something like that.”
“Too much other stuff on your mind, maybe. You would have thought of something eventually.”
“Maybe. But I prefer sooner rather than later. Thanks, Ginny.” He grabbed her and pulled her in for a short, hard kiss.
She grinned when he let her go. “You’re welcome. I guess swim time is over, then.”
He sighed. “Yeah, sorry. It is for me. I need to get this written before—”
“Don’t apologize, just go get your words done. I might swim a few laps, though, seeing as how I just got in.”
“Go for it. You’ve earned it.” He stole another kiss on his way out of the pool. Once out, he grabbed his towel, dried off briskly, then wrapped the towel around his waist, pulled his T-shirt on, and went back to his desk, still wet. There wasn’t time to change, not when this new idea was driving him to write.
Time and the outside world disappeared. He was back on track, deep in the story, and making progress. When he hit save and looked up, the purple filter of twilight had cast everything in gloom.
He took his headphones off. No singing. He got up and walked to the kitchen. It was spotless, not a box in sight. He opened a few drawers and checked a few cabinets. Everything was neat and organized.
“Wow.” He breathed out the word in sheer awe of what Ginny had accomplished.
It would have taken him at least two days to do what she’d done today. Instead, he’d made good progress on his book. Enough that he was going to sleep well tonight. He was starting to think he should have bought her jewelry after all. The woman was a gift he’d done nothing to earn.
He wasn’t even sure when she’d left, because she hadn’t interrupted him to say goodbye.
There was a note on the counter.
Hope you got a lot done. I’m pretty much finished with the kitchen. I’ll probably start on the living room tomorrow. Text me if you need anything.
PS. I’m ordering pizza and plan to eat at eight if you decide to take a break. And I will be cracking that egg for dessert. Hah!
XOXO,
G
He grinned that she’d signed it. As though someone else could have been in his house. She was adorable.
He checked the time. Seven forty-five. He grabbed his phone and sent her a text. Still want company?
Her reply came quickly. Yes! Pizza will be here in five.
So will I.
He was starving, and pizza sounded great. He changed out of his swim trunks, put on jeans and shoes, tucked his phone and wallet in his pocket, and walked over.
She was on the front porch, waiting. What a gorgeous sight to cap off a great day. He smiled at her. “Hi there, beautiful.”
“Hi.” She grinned. “How’d it go? Did you hit your goal?”
“I did. Surpassed it by a bit, too. Thanks to you. The kitchen looks great, by the way.” He climbed the porch steps. “I can’t believe how much you got done.”
A car parked in her driveway, and h
e turned to see who it was.
“Fritzi’s Pizza,” she said.
Easy dug out his wallet. “I’ve got this. It’s the least I can do.”
The delivery guy walked up with the hot bag in one hand, meeting Easy at the base of the steps. “Evening. That’ll be thirty-two fifty.”
Easy glanced at Ginny. “Is there gold on this pizza?”
She laughed. “I got two large Meat Lovers. I thought you might be hungry. I am. And this way, there’s a chance of leftovers.”
“Starved,” Easy answered. He gave the kid two twenties and took the pies in exchange, carrying them into the kitchen.
She had plates out. The television was on in the living room, the screen paused. “You want to watch a movie? I figured it might be a nice mindless thing to do after the long day you put in.”
“I’d love to. I don’t even care what it is.”
“Well, it’s Dark Passage.” She shrugged. “I like old movies. Especially a good comedy or a dark film noir.”
“You’re a constant surprise, you know that? I’ve never heard of the movie, but I’m happy to watch it.” He piled three slices onto his plate.
“You’ve never heard of it? Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall. Plus, Agnes Moorehead, who everyone knows as the mother from Bewitched. You’ll love it. It’s one of my favorite noirs.” She held up her plate. “Come on, you’ll see.”
An hour and forty-six minutes later, he was convinced. “That wasn’t something I ever would have picked, but that was great. Bogart and Bacall. What a pair, huh?”
“Told you.” She grinned. “I’m glad you liked it. Glad you took the time to come over, too. But I know you have another long day ahead of you—we both do—so it’s okay for you to say good night and head home.”
“Kicking me out, huh?” He winked. “Yeah, you’re right, though. I should go.” He leaned in. “Can I kiss you good night?”
“I’d be mad if you didn’t.”
Chapter Sixteen
They spent each of the next five days almost exactly the same way. Easy writing, Ginny visiting Aunt Gwen first thing, then back home to get her work done, then the rest of the day at Easy’s house sorting out another room. They spent the evenings together watching a movie or something light on television over a dinner of takeout. Dessert was the chocolate egg or its contents, every bite of which was out-of-this-world delicious.
The Forgettable Miss French (Shadowvale Book 3) Page 11