Page 14 of When You Are Mine

“Oh, how sweet.” Kerris gnawed on her bottom lip and fiddled with the pencil securing her washed-two-days-ago hair.

“Okay, babe.” She could hear Cam’s attention already drifting back to his project. “Gotta get this done tonight. Love you.”

“Love you, too.” She tugged at the frayed bottoms of her cutoffs, glancing at her paint-stained wifebeater.

Walsh was on his way. She had tried to avoid being alone with him for the last month. They saw each other at least once a week at the children’s ward for craft hour. Was it coincidence that he was usually there visiting Iyani? It probably just worked out that way, but she found herself secretly, guiltily looking forward to that hour.

Simply put, she had never met anyone like him. Self-assured, but not arrogant. Humble, but not wimpy. Appreciated the finer things, but didn’t seem to need them. Compassionate. Generous. Driven. She wanted to stop, but the list went on.

Walsh could have anyone. She and Cam were made for each other; they could heal each other and build together. The future and family they’d never thought they’d have, they could have with each other. She was more and more sure that at the end of the summer, when Cam asked again, she would agree to marry him.

But there were moments, when she was drifting asleep by the river, when things were quiet and the day was done. In those moments, her vigilance sagged and the armor encasing her mind slipped. She’d think of Walsh and undo all her self-preservation.

She would eventually build up an immunity to the sheer magnetism of the man. If she didn’t smother this insensible attraction, how could she move forward with the future she craved, the one where her children waited? And who better than Cam to share that future?

A tap on her shoulder startled her, cannoning her several inches off the ground. She whirled around to see Walsh towering over her, a large brown bag in hand.

“You scared me to death,” she said, louder than normal because she still had in her earphones.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to. I called your name a couple of times, but…”

“No problem.”

Kerris swallowed around the tumbleweed pushing its way up her throat and brushed suddenly damp palms over her ragged shorts. She needed to get him out the door as soon as possible. “I told Cam you didn’t have to bring me anything.”

“It was fine.” His smile seemed more casual than what was in his eyes. “Your spot’s not far from Cam’s, and my mom was determined to feed him. Each Monday she cooks soul food.”

“Soul food, huh?”

“Walsh Foods was founded on Southern cooking. Mom can make every one of those frozen meals right in her kitchen from scratch.”

Kerris often forgot about the prepared foods business that had made the Walsh Foundation possible.

She sniffed appreciatively in spite of herself.

“I guess I could eat a little something.”

“Big of you.” His response had soaked in sarcasm overnight.

“Sorry.” She had to laugh at herself, feeling some of the tension drain from her shoulders. “I really am starving, and would love to inhale whatever is in that bag smelling so good.”

He looked around for a place to set the food, eyes widening at the gleaming hardwood floors, newly spackled ceiling, and freshly painted walls.

“This looks incredible, Kerris.”

“Oh, you should have seen it before.” She reached in her pocket to grab her phone. “Look at these early pictures. See how far our little fixer-upper has come.”

“Wow, you weren’t joking about what you two could do.”

“You ain’t seen nothing yet.” She knew she was bragging, but couldn’t resist. “Come see the furniture and display racks upstairs.”

She grabbed his hand and dragged him deeper into the shop, tugging him into the small bathroom. Instead of wallpaper or paint, a mural covered the walls, depicting the river that cut through the city of Rivermont. It included the covered bridge, the historic houses and cottages along its bank, leisurely fishermen with their rods extended, and even canoes meandering down the placid stretch of water.

“This is gorgeous. Did you do this?” Walsh traced a finger along the river on the wall.

“No, Cam did.”

“I forget sometimes how gifted he is.” Walsh looked down at their still-clasped hands.

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