I take a bite of the cookie, and it melts in my mouth.
After closing the lid, I carefully pick up one item after another. Dried oranges. Dark chocolates. Crunchy peanut butter. Caramel candies. Beef jerky. And then my heart stops at the clear packets—which, of course, are handmade. Six pouches full of white chocolate, with a red bow tied to each.
Did she really do this for me?
A man who’s almost a stranger?
Under the snacks are small self-care pouches in Christmas-themed envelopes.
Sanitizer. Hand cream. Spa lotions.
One after the other, they land on my bed as I empty the envelopes, until…
My eyes must be playing tricks on me. This can’t be fucking right.
Why did she send two condom packets?
* * *
The door is pulled open, and my hand holding the cloche jerks.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Autumn walks inside, a thick folder in her hand.
“You didn’t scare me,” I reply with a fake smirk. “I was just…surprised.”
“Why is your coffee still full? Suzie sent it a long time ago.” Autumn’s eyebrows furrow as she sits on the cushioned chair beside me. Leaning forward, she picks up a cookie from the plate and breaks it into halves before handing me one.
“Do you remember me sending you coconut macaroons in your first care package?”
I let the soft gooeyness melt in my mouth, all the while staring at her. “Among other things.”
“Lukas!” She throws a morsel at me as her eyes widen. If not for the twitch in her lips, which she’s failing to hide, I’d think she’s offended.
“What? Do you really think I could have forgotten those two condoms?”
“I told you I asked the pharmacy guy to make pouches of toiletries men would like. He thought it was for the inn’s honeymoon suites or something.” Her cheeks turn red. “It was so mortifying to receive your email with their picture in the attachments.”
“It was no less mortifying for me. Did you think I was turning into some kind of raging teenager on Christmas?” I take a sip of coffee, which stays in my mouth, burning my tongue as I listen to her next words.
“Didn’t you?” She digs her teeth into her bottom lip, and damn if my pulse doesn’t start racing.
“Didn’t I what?” I ask, because I’m one hundred percent sure Autumn isn’t asking about my use of condoms.
We’ve talked a lot over these years. About ourselves, our dreams, what we want from life, but we’ve never talked about sex or love.
“You know what I mean.” She sits a little straighter, but the pink on her cheeks gives away her coyness.
I get up with my coffee cup in hand because suddenly this girl sitting before me is giving me crazy thoughts and making me delirious.
“You know the answer.” I throw back the reply, trying to act calm even though there’s a fire inside me right now.
What did she think about me? Did she wonder if I had a steady girlfriend or if I was sleeping with strange women?
I do have random one-night stands, but I’m no manwhore. Autumn, on the other hand, is twenty-two. I’ve never known about any boyfriends. In fact, her emails only mentioned her family, Chiara, and other inn employees.
“What about you?”
Her eyes widen. “What about me?” she almost squeaks.