The Apple Tree

by Kara Jimenez

  “Oh, I know…it’s fine.” She waved her hand. The tension in Peter’s arm around her back was clear. “Um, do you guys know each other?”

  They were both silent for a moment, their eyes locked.

  “He’s my cousin,” Peter finally said.

  She bit the inside of her cheek. They’re related? Her gaze darted between the men. They did have the same high bridged nose and square jaw. How did she not notice before?

  “Is he the one you caught spying?” Peter’s mouth curled into a smirk.

  The row of herbs on the table beside her suddenly seemed very interesting. She hadn’t wanted Levi to know she’d spoken about him with other people. It didn’t seem polite. “Yes, but it’s no big deal, really.”

  “Is he your boyfriend?” Levi raised an eyebrow as his gaze darted between her and Peter.

  “Um…” She shifted her basket to the other hand, dropping her wallet in the process.

  “Why does it matter to you?” Peter crossed his arms over his chest.

  Levi nodded. “Fair enough, I guess I’ll leave you to your shopping.” He took a step back. “You know, Bianca, there’s a woman a couple stands down that sells the best blackberry jam. You should try it.”

  “Okay, thanks.” She gave him a smile.

  Turning, Levi walked down the street, hands shoved into his jeans pocket.

  Peter huffed beside her. “Well, that was awkward.” He took her shopping basket. “So you know my cousin, huh? Sorry if he’s been bothering you. He’s a little weird sometimes.”

  “It’s fine,” she said. “I can’t believe you two are related.”

  “Yeah, me neither.” He turned away to examine a display of honey jars, giving her the distinct impression he didn’t want to talk about it.

  She paid the woman sitting at the stand for her produce and they continued down the street. The blackberry jam Levi suggested did sound good, but maybe she’d try it when she came next week without Peter. She had a feeling he’d take offense if she took Levi’s advice.

  Peter nodded toward one of the cafés along the road and they stepped inside. Bianca ordered a blueberry muffin. Peter said he wasn’t hungry, but he paid for her muffin and bought a coffee for himself. They took their snack outside and sat down at a table on the sidewalk, under the eave.

  “You know, I live just a couple blocks away.” He motioned down the street.

  Her gaze shifted in the direction he’d pointed. “Really, where? Isn’t it mostly stores that way?”

  “The condos atop that new building, facing the river.”

  “Those are like multi-million dollar condos.”

  He shrugged. “Where did you think I lived?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Of course, I should have known.”

  “Finish your muffin and then I’ll give you a tour.” He leaned toward her, his sapphire eyes smoldering.

  Bianca knew what would happen if she set foot in his house. Physically, every cell of her body screamed yes. But what about afterward? Would he still be interested or would he drop her like so many men had done to her mother? And emotionally, she didn’t feel that connection, at least, not how she felt around Levi. Maybe she just needed to get to know Peter better. Although, she didn’t know Levi all that well either and he was like a magnet.

  “Peter, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She looked down, pulling a chunk off her muffin. “I’ll get there…but I have to know I can trust you first. Give me time, okay?”

  He nodded, taking a sip of his coffee and they watched the market goers meander down the street with rain jackets and umbrellas. “I’m not trying to pressure you, Bianca. It’s fine.”

  They sat in silence for a few minutes. A woman with a dog walked past, her eyes lingering on Peter as she went. Bianca glared at her and shoved another chunk of muffin in her mouth.

  Peter didn’t give any indication of noticing the woman as he continued to drink his coffee. When they finished, they tossed their garbage in a nearby can.

  A grin crossed his face and he took her hand. “Come here.” His arm slid around her waist, stepping forward until he had her gently pressed against the outside wall of the restaurant. “Reconsider,” he whispered in her ear. His mouth shifted lower and kissed her neck, just under her jaw line.

  Shivers ran through her as her body begged for his touch, but her mind refused to follow along. “Peter, not today.” She tried to focus on the rain trickling over the eave and into puddles on the curb.

  He lifted his head and moved his lips to hers, gently at first, but building in intensity. His hand drifted up her waist, slipping a finger under the hem of her shirt. “Come home with me.”

  Her heart pounded in her ears. Peter was so attractive that just looking at him practically made her melt. Maybe she should just go with it? But she’d regret it. This was too fast.

  “Not today,” she said again, pushing him gently away. He didn’t budge. His mouth traveled back down to her neck. She pushed harder, but he still didn’t move an inch.

  “It would be amazing,” he whispered. His hand moved up her back, underneath her shirt.

  “Peter, stop!” She gave him her hardest shove.

  He took a small step back and his grip loosened. “I’m sorry. I—”

  “She said no.” A loud voice startled them.

  Peter turned toward the source of interruption.

  Levi stood just behind him. His eyes hard, cold and locked on Peter.

  “This is none of your business, Levi.” Peter took a step toward him, releasing Bianca.

  She let out a breath and her gazed darted to Levi. Shame rose at being caught in such an awkward position and her cheeks warmed.

  “It is my business if you’re pushing yourself on innocent women,” Levi said.

  Bianca straightened, pushing off from the wall. “It’s fine… Thanks, Levi… I’ll just go home now.”

  “I’ll take you,” Peter said.

  Her hands shook as she stepped out from under the eave and into the drizzling rain. “No, I’ll walk. It’s not that far.”

  “I can give you a ride.” Levi reached toward her.

  Peter stepped in front of him. “You need to leave,” he spat through his teeth.

  This was getting ridiculous. She held up her hands. “Guys, stop. It’s fine.”

  While Levi’s attention was on her, Peter punched him in the jaw.

  Levi grunted and stumbled back, clutching his face. He grimaced, pulled his arm back, and shoved his fist into Peter’s nose.

  Peter fell against the wall, dripping blood onto his gray, V-neck sweater.

  Her heart pounded. What the heck was she supposed to do? She didn’t want them hurt.

  A crowd gathered around them. A short and stocky man held a phone to his ear, probably calling the police and a teenage girl held out her phone, likely recording video.

  This had to end before the cops appeared. Bianca ran forward, stepping in between them. “Stop it, you two! This is crazy!”

  The men scowled, their eyes locked, but with Bianca between them they couldn’t hit each other. The rain soaked into their clothes and dripped down their faces.

  Using the back of her palm, she wiped the water from her forehead, her eyes on Levi. She should thank him for helping her with Peter, but was the fighting really necessary?

  Peter turned and punched a parking sign on the curb, reminding her that he was the one who started the punches.

  “I’ll give you a ride home,” Levi said to her.

  “No, I’ll walk” She grabbed her basket of groceries and took off down the street, leaving the men standing in front of the café.

  She scurried past the crowd of people and onto the riverside path that led to the south side of town. Ugh, Peter could be so infuriating. What the hell? Of course, he had pulled away, right before they were interrupted, but still, it’d taken him too long to stop.

  The building where Peter lived stood alongside the path. Shivering, she glanced up at the wi
ndows and expansive balconies. Which was his? After today, she didn’t care to find out.

  Just as she reached the turn, where the path separated from the road and continued behind the skate park, a blue pickup truck pulled beside her.

  “Bianca, let me give you a ride. You’re soaked.” Levi’s arm hung out the window.

  “I’m fine.” Although, a warm cab did sound inviting and Levi had been the one to come to her rescue. But he was also the one she caught sitting outside her apartment. Maybe crazy behavior runs in their family.

  “Please, I feel awful watching you trudge through the rain.”

  “Then don’t watch.” She shifted her basket to the other arm. Stomping through a puddle, the water soaked into her sneakers, wetting her socks and chilling her toes. Curse Peter for insisting he’d pick her up and not letting her ride her bike. She stopped walking and narrowed her eyes at Levi. “Fine,” she grumbled.

  A huge smile spread across his face. He hopped out of the truck, jogged around to the passenger door and held it open.

  “Thank you.” She climbed inside. Warm air blew from the vents on the dashboard and she lifted her fingers to them, relaxing as the heat surrounded her.

  He slid back into the driver’s seat and shifted into first gear, moving forward. “I’m sorry about Peter,” he said.

  “It’s not your fault.”

  He looked toward her, his mouth turned down. “Well, I’m still sorry. He has no respect for women.”

  “And you do?” She avoided his eyes, instead watching his hand on the gear shift.

  He sighed. “I’m sorry about before.” Then, his voice quieted, “I wanted to make sure you were safe.”

  “Yep, you’re quite the knight in shining armor,” she said, remembering Stephanie’s comment a couple of weeks ago. “But thank you, for today.”

  He glanced away from the road, holding her gaze. “Don’t mention it.” His head turned forward again. “But Bianca, you’re better off staying away from Peter. I know he’s charming, but he’s not… stable. He lost his wife and he never got over it. He uses people to avoid his own pain. He’s not really someone you want to get mixed up with.”

  She looked down at her hands. Peter had been married. She’d never have guessed. “I can’t believe you guys are related. I met you both just a few days from each other. That’s a crazy coincidence.”

  He raised his brow. “Crazy, I know.”

  When they reached her apartment, he parked the truck along the curb and then turned to face her. “I’ve been wondering, and I apologize if I’m being nosey, but that little boy I saw the other day. He’s your son?”

  “Oh, no. He’s my brother.” She smiled. “His name is Owen.”

  “Your brother? That’s a big age difference.”

  “Yeah, well, he’s my half-brother.” She watched the raindrops streaming down the windowsill. “When my dad left a few years ago, my mom became… unstable. She got herself pregnant, so I moved in to help out.”

  His fingers played with the hair on his arm. “You’re a kind person, Bianca.”

  “I just want what’s best for Owen.” She reached for the door handle. “Thank you for the ride.”

  “Anytime,” he said.

  Bianca awoke to a knock at the door. She groaned and looked at the clock, eight. Who could be visiting this early? She rubbed her eyes and stumbled downstairs, wearing Santa Claus pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt.

  Levi stood on her porch, leaning against the support beam and looking hotter than anyone should first thing in the morning. She bit the inside of cheek and wished she’d taken the time to get dressed before opening the door.

  He wore a navy t-shirt, a brown jacket and jeans. Under his arm, he held a wooden framed box with glass windows. The sight of him was a pleasant thing to wake up to, but what was he doing here?

  “Good morning. Nice pajamas.” He nodded to her pants and grinned.

  Her face grew warm as she ran her hands through her hair, trying to smooth it down a bit.

  “Isn’t it a little early for Santa though? It’s only October.” He raised an eyebrow.

  “They’re comfy all year round.” A cool breeze blew through the thin material of her shirt. Shoot. She wasn’t even wearing a bra. Her arms crossed against her chest.

  “Well, I just came to bring you this.” He held up the box. “I noticed you’d cleared all your plants from the porch. I’m guessing that’s because of the cold weather, so I made you a cold-frame.” His lower lip slipped between his teeth. “In case you wanted to keep growing through the winter.”

  Her hand gripped the door frame. The box was about a two foot square, the ideal size for her porch.

  “That’s… perfect. I’m kind of stunned, actually.” She looked up through her lashes and smiled at him. “Thank you.”

  “I brought you some seeds too.” He pulled a couple of white envelopes from his pocket. “Unless you have some you want to use, of course, but I brought lettuce and kale. Do you want me to help you plant them?

  She took a deep breath, waiting for the tightness in her throat to disappear before she answered. “Um, yes. That’d be great. Let me change first though.”

  His eyes shifted up and down her body. “I don’t know, I kind of like the look.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Come inside, you can wait on the couch. I’ll just run upstairs real quick.”

  He set the box down on the concrete patio and walked past her, into the living room. After glancing around the room, he sat on the futon, leaning back against the green cushion.

  “Okay, be right back.” She bolted up the stairs.

  Was she crazy? Inviting him into her home? But he had helped her the day before with Peter and it was really sweet for him to bring the cold-frame. A sigh left her as she ripped off her pajamas. Despite his weird behavior, there was something about him that made her feel comfortable.

  Quickly, she changed into jeans and a fitted vintage tee with bra. She yanked a comb through her hair, brushed her teeth and applied a bit of lip gloss before racing back downstairs.

  She found him studying the canvas painting hung behind the futon, a red and yellow abstract piece.

  He turned toward her. “Did you paint this?”

  “Yeah, it’s not that great. I had a brief tortured artist phase in high school.” Her gaze followed his to the bright swirling colors and she shrugged. “My mom likes it. She’s the one who hung it up.”

  “I like it too.” His grey eyes drew her in like a Monet. “Do you still paint?”

  She licked her lips and then broke his stare before answering. “No. It’s just something I did to work through my emotions after my dad left. Okay, should we plant those seeds?” Her hands clapped together and then she grabbed a knitted sweater off the hook by the door, pulling it around her shoulders.

  He followed her outside, lifted the box and set it in the middle of the porch before kneeling in front of it.

  The cool fall air sent a shiver through her body. She pulled her sweater closed and sat beside him on the concrete.

  “So, you just lift from this side to open it.” Levi demonstrated. Square plastic pots lined the inside, already filled with soil.

  “You made this yourself?” Using her finger, she poked little holes in the grainy dirt.

  He nodded, poured a few seeds into his palm and held them out to her. “It was simple. I’ve made them before for use around my house.”

  She pinched a couple of seeds in the tips of her fingers, brushing against his palm in the process and shifted her gaze up to his.

  The corner of his mouth tipped up into a smile. “This one is kale.”

  “I love kale soup.” She looked away for a moment as fluttering filled her chest. His kindness overwhelmed her and she wondered why she’d been so disturbed by his watching before. They placed the seeds in the holes and then filled them with soil.

  “You have to remember to water these since the rain won’t get to them.” He brushed his han
ds against his jeans.

  “Okay.” She found a spot on the edge of the concrete to place the cold-frame box “Thank you for this. It was very thoughtful.”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down at the box. “It’s nothing really.”

  This man on her porch didn’t seem like a creep at all. Where was the gruff guy who’d demanded to search her bag the first time they’d met? “Would you like to come inside and have breakfast with me?”

  His eyes lit like the flint of a lighter. “I would love that.”

  A smile crossed her face and they walked through the apartment and into the kitchen. She opened the fridge, peering inside. “Do you want eggs and toast or I could make muffins or something?”

  “Eggs and toast is fine.” He peered at the gooey mess inside the bowl on the counter. “Are you making sourdough?”

  She pulled the eggs out from the fridge, setting them on the beige counter. “Well, I’m trying to. I haven’t actually got it to work yet.”

  “My mother used to make it. I wish I remembered what she did.”

  She pulled a frying pan out of the cupboard. “Used to?”

  “She’s not around anymore.”

  Biting her lip, she regretted having asked. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” She placed the pan on the counter, studying his face.

  He waved his hand. “It was a long time ago.”

  “Well, I don’t have sourdough bread, but I do have some sprouted wheat.” She held up the loaf she’d made yesterday.

  “That sounds great. I usually buy my bread. I’d love some homemade.” He paused, looking at her. “I’m impressed. You seem to really know your way around the kitchen.”

  She shrugged. “It’s kind of my thing, I guess.” Lifting an egg, she cracked it against the counter, dropping the insides into a bowl. “But this is just eggs, it’s not that hard.”

  “I was referring to the bread. Here, let me help you with that.” He took another egg from the carton. “You get the pan ready.”

  A man who willingly helped in the kitchen couldn’t be all bad, right? She placed the pan on the stovetop and turned on the burner.

  “Do you get these eggs from the farmer’s market?” He opened a drawer, a confused look on his face.