by A. M. Wilson
What in the hell was happening?
Law stared back at me from my front porch. He wore a pair of nice fitting jeans (not that I looked) and a red button down with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. A patch above the left breast pocket read: Chuck the Exterminator.
My eyes moved back up to his face, and I couldn’t help notice that he was sporting an honest-to-god five o’clock shadow. It killed me to admit it, but it looked so good. Shit.
“Your name isn’t Chuck,” I blurted, trying to save face for letting him stand on my doorstep for so long.
“And this isn’t my day job. If you’ll let me in, I can get started and be out of your way as soon as I can.”
I looked to my socks and opened the door the rest of the way. My cheeks flamed with embarrassment. “Right. Sorry. Down the hall and on the left.”
His footfalls had long since passed, so I closed the door and meandered to my daughter’s bedroom. Today was messing with my head. There was no way I could stand with him and my daughter in the same room until this mouse was dealt with. I’d lose my damn mind.
Which is why I grabbed Kiersten’s arm and tugged her into the hallway.
“I need you to stay with them. Listen to what he says, his recommendations, and make decisions. I trust you.”
“Where are you going?” she whispered.
“The kitchen. Maybe start some laundry.”
She cocked an eyebrow and gave me a funny look. “Why? What is your deal?”
“That’s...Law,” I murmured as low as I could. Her eyebrows shot beneath her choppy blonde bangs.
“No shit?” She peered back into the bedroom.
Law was bent over, pulling Evelyn’s desk away from the wall while she chatted his ear off.
Kiersten turned back to me with a wide grin on her face. “No shit. I recognize that ass now.”
“For fuck’s sake, I’m done with today. Done. Go in there and behave yourself.”
She strutted back into the bedroom so I went back to the kitchen. Since I’d already started the dishwasher, there wasn’t anything left to do. The laundry closet was just off the kitchen, but there weren’t any dirty clothes. We did laundry on Fridays, which was yesterday. I supposed I could start to make dinner.
As time passed, I became more anxious, dropping utensils and making a mess of ingredients as I put together dinner. I guess I knew why he’s been in the area. He must have moved here.
That is not the answer I wanted. I wanted to hear he was in town on business or visiting a buddy or buying a car he found on some resale internet site. What I did not want to hear was that the man I had loved my entire life was once again living in the same small town as me.
Footsteps grew louder from the hallway, and I snapped my head up from where I was staring blankly at the speckled patter on the countertop. Wanting to look busy, I yanked open the oven and went to remove the casserole dish I’d placed in there for dinner. Except I let the sound of Law’s voice drifting from down the hallway distract me, and I reached in and grabbed the dish without putting on an oven mitt.
“Ow! Owowow!” I cried as the hot dish crashed back inside the oven. I could feel my face turning red as I held back tears and several inappropriate curse words. Instead of sobbing like I wanted, I bent at the waist and cradled my injured hand with the other. That didn’t help. My heartbeat pulsed through the red, swelling flesh and caused even more pain.
Strong hands wrapped around my shoulders and steered me to the sink. The faucet flipped on. Those same hands slid down my arms in a light graze, sending goosebumps skittering along my skin before they reached my wrists and thrusted my hands beneath the water.
I sighed. “Ahh.”
A moment passed as the severe pain began to subside into a dull throb, and I realized the proximity of Law’s body to mine. He was practically wrapped around my back. His hips were to the side of mine, but his long, muscled arm draped around my waist, beneath my elbow, where he held my hands lightly beneath the water.
“Still clumsy around me,” he murmured in my ear, a hint of teasing in his voice. The sound of humor coming from him caused me to stiffen further. I yanked my arms back and fell against the countertop beside me.
Law still held one of my wrists, and he tugged it, forcing my hand back beneath the lukewarm water. Our eyes caught as he jostled me, and I couldn’t look away. It appeared he couldn’t either.
If he had been smiling before, he sure wasn’t now. His eyes narrowed. He dropped them to my lips and frowned. “Keep it here. Ten minutes.”
His voice was too warm. Too close. It sent a quiver through me.
“I know that. Let go.”
His eyes drifted back to mine. If I wasn’t mistaken, I’d swear there was heat in his gaze.
“Fine,” he bit out, then, in a flip of emotion, calmly released me.
Kiersten rushed forward with a towel for him to dry off on. He thanked her, then directed his attention to me.
“I didn’t find a mouse. Not a sign of one, either. No bedding, food crumbs, or scat. Still put up a couple traps. One in your girl’s room behind her desk, two in the basement, and was going to drop one in here. Checked outside before I came in, and your house looks tight. I’ll come by in a day or two to check the traps.”
I sucked a deep breath through my nose. “Thank you. How much do I owe you?” I went searching for my purse, but only made it as far as the kitchen entrance before his voice stopped me.
It wasn’t so much what he said, as it was the tone. The deep baritone gentled and softened, almost as if he were crooning a lullaby. I glanced over my shoulder and my jaw slackened.
He was speaking to my Evelyn. The warm gaze, the way he bent towards her to speak to her and not at her, it all warmed my heart and at the same time, sent it into a frenzy.
“Can you find your mom’s purse so she can keep her hand under that water?” That was all he said, but it melted me all the same.
Evelyn scampered off, which prompted Law to cut a glance at me and jerk his head towards the still running faucet.
I listened. Not because he told me too, but because my hand still hurt like crazy and I knew he was right. I needed to draw out the burn.
While he busied himself setting another trap in the pantry, Kiersten pulled dinner from the oven. I, however, stared out the window and pretended they didn’t exist. Evelyn came back and dropped my purse on the counter next to the sink.
“Can I go back to my room now?”
I turned my head and gave her a smile. “Go ahead, but dinner is in a few minutes.”
She reached up on her toes and gave me a kiss on the cheek. There were only a few inches that separated our heights now. Sooner than later she was going to catch up, and most likely pass me. “Thanks, mom.”
Law approached me then and turned off the faucet. I tried to pull my hand away, but he wouldn’t let it go. He just tugged it closer and lowered his face to inspect the freshly blistered skin.
The entire underside of my thumb was blistered, as was the side of my index finger. It hurt—bad. Not going to lie. Though, it hurt less while under Law’s scrutinizing gaze.
What was I saying? I needed to get a grip.
“What are you doing?”
He pulled out a kit from the bag he carried and taped a fresh piece of gauze over my injury.
“Keep this on. Change it if it gets wet or soiled. Don’t put any cream on it until at least Monday.”
I didn’t bother telling him I was a paramedic and knew how to care for a simple burn. His attention to taking care of me was unsettling. I didn’t like it. It brought up old memories of scrapes and skinned knees. Too many memories. “Okay. How much do I owe you?”
One side of his mouth tipped up. I wouldn’t quite call it a smile, but it was something. “For the doctor services? I give those out for free. Hundred bucks for the mouse problem.”
Ouch. For both his teasing and that cost.
I nodded and dug out my wallet one-handed. “Okay. Th
ank you.” I tucked a hundred-dollar bill into his hand, trying not to touch his skin.
A muscle jumped in his jaw. “Be back in a couple days for those traps. Have a good evening, ladies.”
Ladies. Shit.
I spun away from him as he showed himself out, having completely forgotten Kiersten was in the room. She had her back to the refrigerator door, arms crossed over her chest, and a grin on her stupid smirking lips.
I was waiting until the door closed to address her, but Kiersten did what she always did—blurted out whatever the hell was on her mind.
“Is it hot in here or is it just me? You look a little flushed.”
“Not now,” I hissed, still waiting to hear the door shut.
“I think you need a cold drink. A tall, drink of water, amiright?”
Cutting her a sharp glance, I tiptoed out and peeked towards the foyer.
Empty.
For some reason, that relieved me, and I sagged against the wall in the hallway. My eyes closed. I clutched my injured hand to my chest and breathed deeply until my racing pulse slowed and Kiersten called my name.
As I walked back to the kitchen, I made a mental note. Law would be back to check the traps, but I needed to tell him to stay away after that. If he’s living in this town, it’d be best we didn’t see each other again.
That meant no more speaking in public.
No more visiting Ritchie’s grave at the same time.
No more house calls.
Definitely no more speaking sweetly to my daughter. Or speaking to her at all for that matter.
If I wanted to stay sane, I needed to cut all contact. Again. I just hoped I would survive it a second time.
***
This time I was more prepared.
Steeling myself with a deep breath, I opened the door to Law. He was back in that red work polo with the logo and a pair of dark wash jeans. I glanced quickly down his body before returning my gaze to his face. God, he looked...every word that crossed my mind didn’t feel like enough to describe what I now saw in his features. Aged like a fine wine, his face held a maturity that was becoming. His eyes crinkled in the corners as he studied me, and even that was fascinating. He was older, more defined and hard, and yet, his eyes still held a softness I was pleased to see time didn’t steal.
It was Tuesday following the emotionally chaotic weekend, and even though three days had passed, I still wasn’t sure I could do this.
Law was back to check the traps.
The sky had changed from blue to amethyst as twilight set in. I could see the first hint of stars twinkling as I gazed out beyond his left shoulder. I was being awkward. I hadn’t said hi or offered to let him in to get his work done so he could leave. But he didn’t seem to mind.
There was something in this moment. The shock of running into each other again had started to fade, although it would never completely disappear. We weren’t yelling at each other for past hurts or trying to pretend the past never happened. We just were.
Two people, who used to be in love, standing in each other’s presence; for the first time in fourteen years, a part of my soul felt repaired.
I wasn’t about to delude myself into happy endings. The fact was, he was here to do a job. That was it. After a few breaths in the quiet peace of our new reality, I was ready to let him do that job.
In order to get on with that, I blurted, “We’re alone here. I mean, not like that means anything. My friend Kiersten isn’t here, and my daughter’s at basketball practice.” My face flushed as I stumbled over my point. “I don’t mean anything by it, other than to tell you they aren’t here.”
Law cocked an eyebrow at me, then his eyes drifted over my right shoulder and into my hallway. He gave a jerk of his head in that direction. “May I?”
“Of course.”
I inhaled sharply through my nose, which was the wrong thing to do. At that exact moment, he brushed by me, causing what I intended to be a cleansing breath to be filled with the scent of him. Soap or cologne, whatever it was, overwhelmed me to the point I closed my eyes and swayed with dizziness.
He still smelled like I remembered, something uniquely him that I was never able to figure out. I used to think it was a mixture of the smell of his home, laundry detergent his mom used, and his soap, but after this long, that can’t be true. Still, that scent of him from my memories was there beneath the layers of black tea, rhubarb, and a hint of cedar from his cologne.
Opening my eyes, I shut the front door in a daze and trailed after him.
“See any more mice?”
When I made it to the kitchen, I found him standing in the middle of it. I lived in a modest house. With three bedrooms, one-and-a-half baths, and a fully finished basement, it was certainly big enough for Evelyn and me. Having Law standing in the middle of my average kitchen, however, made the space feel small and cramped. I couldn’t pass through the kitchen without bumping into him, and that unnerved me. He waited, seemingly for me to do something, but I didn’t know what that was.
“Um, no. None.”
His eyes met mine when I spoke, and I realized belatedly that he was waiting for my attention. Once he had it, he jerked his head towards my pantry. “May I?”
God, I’m an idiot. “Yes, sorry. Do whatever you need to do.” I chewed the inside of my lip. For a moment, I became comfortable with him here. I think, subconsciously, I expected him to move freely around my space and that was wrong on so many levels. One, because he was essentially a stranger. And two, that meant my guard had slipped a lot more than I was aware of, and that was a bad thing.
Still, the silence that stretched between us felt as natural as it always had. As much as I felt like I needed to move or fidget, I didn’t feel that way about the quiet between us. So, I stood and waited.
He worked, moving from the pantry down the hall to Evelyn’s room. Then, from my spot in the kitchen where I was leaning against the counter, I heard the basement door open and his booted footsteps thud down the stairs. A few minutes later, he returned and deposited his work bag on the floor by the refrigerator.
“All clear. Have you seen or heard any mice since the other day? Movement in the walls, chew marks in the pantry?”
“No.” I must have made a face in disgust, because Law smirked. He looked away and ran a hand over his unruly hair.
“I can leave the traps set up for you, and you can always call if they manage to catch something. I haven’t seen any evidence of a problem though. It’s up to you.”
“I think it’s best if you don’t come back here.” Yep. That’s what I blurted. The thought had been on my mind all weekend, and evidently my brain thought now was the time to let him know.
That slight smirk on his face faded into a scowl. “What?”
“I’m sorry. If I had known you worked for pest control, I would have called somewhere else.” He looked at me skeptically, and I sighed, knowing there wasn’t anyone else around this small town. “Or bought a cat,” I added. “This isn’t right. Running into you at the coffee shop was...well it sucked. And if you live here now, I just think it’d be best if we weren’t around each other.” The more I spoke, the faster my words ran together until I was nearly breathless at the end of my speech. Getting those words out hurt more than I expected. What surprised me more than that was that I was angry. Angry I had to say them at all. Angry at Law for not just avoiding me like he should. Like I deserved.
“You owe me coffee,” he returned. Now it was my turn to frown.
“I don’t owe you anything.”
“You do.” He took a step closer. Not so much that we were touching, but in the shrinking space, it was getting damn close. “You asked for coffee the other day. Said we could catch up and talk about things. Now, I’ll admit, I was damn pissed to see you, but I’ve changed my mind. I want coffee.”
My confusion rose. “Okay, so you can leave, and we can plan a better day in the future to have coffee.” Like, say, never.
“I’m feeling li
ke I could use a cup now,” he dropped his voice and murmured.
Oh, shit.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“It’s been a long day, Cami, and your house was the last on my list for the day. I don’t know if I can make it back to the shop without some caffeine in me. Thirty-minute drive, I might fall asleep.”
I felt like a teenager who wanted to stomp her foot. “Are you really guilt-tripping me right now?”
“I don’t know, am I?” His stupid gray/green eyes twinkled with humor.
I darted my gaze around my kitchen in search of something to save me. They landed on the empty coffee pot. “I don’t have any coffee made. It’s probably best for you to get on the road now. There’s a gas station on the way out on highway 31. They probably sell coffee. Or energy drinks. Mountain Dew is good when I’m tired, too.”
He followed my gaze to the coffee pot, but his body didn’t move. “Cami,” he said, low and kinda-sorta hot if I wasn’t in such deep denial.
“Yes?”
“It’s ten minutes. One cup. Let’s talk so we can move on. Don’t make it any harder than it already is.”
My mind worked for another excuse. Anything to get him to leave, but there was no way. No possible way, because the only way would be to put my foot down, like an adult, and ask him to leave, to make my tone firm and unwavering, to even turn into a bitch and threaten to throw him out if he didn’t go on his own.
And I knew, deep down into the part of my heart that still loved Law, that I could never do that.
I sighed and muttered beneath my breath, “Fine.”
Giving into him wasn’t as hard as I thought it’d be, mostly because the next task seemed impossible. Now that I’d agreed to let him stay for coffee, I needed to actually make a pot of coffee, and in order to do that, I had to cross to the other side of my kitchen. Which meant squeezing by Law, preferably without touching him.
As predicted, it was impossible. Our arms brushed together. It was brief, but it affected me. The contact made me stiffen, and images of him grabbing me and pulling me into his broad chest flashed in my head.
