Page 28 of All My Heart

I wished I could help more, but this was out of my wheelhouse. I wasn't used to a man showing a soft side. It was nice that Axel felt comfortable enough to show me he was struggling.

“There's no timeline for how to heal from everything you've been through,” I said to him, wishing I could touch him again. But I wasn't sure he'd be comfortable with that.

He pushed the lettuce around in his bowl. “I'm not used to talking about things.”

I nodded. “I kind of got that. My brothers are the same.”

He lifted his gaze to mine. “I'm glad I'm not alone.”

“I'm sure most guys struggle to talk about their feelings.” I sipped my beer. It went well with the lasagna. I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten a home-cooked meal that wasn't prepared by my mother.

Axel broke off a chunk of bread and popped it into his mouth.

I chewed, then swallowed. “The lasagna is good. I'm impressed.”

“I can follow a recipe, and everything online said to buy the precooked noodles.”

“That is easier. My mom tried to make pasta from scratch one time. My dad bought her the big mixer with the attachments, but it was a disaster. She said never again.” I smiled fondly at the memory. She loved the idea of cooking from scratch for her family.

“My mom died when I was a kid, so we all learned how to cook. Some of us more than others. My sister really loved it and cooked most of the meals as she got older.”

“I'm sorry about your mother.” I hated that I'd even brought up my family. I didn't want him to be upset.

“It was a long time ago.”

“Some things you never get over.” Was he still the vulnerable kid he'd been then? Was he emotionally trapped at that age?

“Dad had to move on. He had a farm to run and kids to raise.”

“You grew up on a farm?” I asked, genuinely curious about his upbringing.

He nodded. “It's a hobby, but we'd like to focus more on it, build the business for our kids.”

“That's really nice.” I'd never met anyone who grew up on a farm. Everyone lived on the island where there wasn't much room for more than a small garden.

I loved that I was getting a glimpse into who he was. Each admission let me see more of him.

CHAPTER 8

AXEL

We'd finished eating. Then we cleaned up our dishes. I felt unsettled. I never shared anything about my upbringing or my family. But with Luna, it felt natural.

I hadn't thought about the effect Mom's death had on me and my siblings in years. It was something I thought I'd dealt with and moved on from when I enlisted.

Now I wasn't so sure. There was this overwhelming sense that I didn't know who I was without the military. Was I a Calloway who grew up on a farm with my siblings and a dad who did the best he could? Was I just a soldier? And more importantly, who was I now?

I didn't know what I wanted beyond spending time in this cabin and getting to know the woman who stayed next door. Our time was limited. She was leaving in a few weeks, and by Christmas, my family would know I was home.

They'd want me to move to the farm, probably in the garage apartment where Jameson lived for so many years. Just the thought had my chest tightening.

When the last dish was washed and set out to dry, I turned to find her bent over her tablet, one side of her hair tucked behind her ear.

She looked up and caught me watching her. She smiled. “You want to see?”

I moved around the island to stand next to her. Standing this close, I couldn't avoid her tropical sent.

She turned the screen so I could see the rendition of the kitchen. The cabinets were a natural wood, the walls a soft gray. It was bright and clean. “I know everyone's doing white cabinets, but I think you need the wood feel for a cabin.”