Page 58 of After All

He pulled out his phone to text her, but his gaze landed on another scrap of paper on top of the coiled piece of elastic tubing on the table he was supposed to be using to exercise his leg. That note said,Girls dig scars…but not flabby muscles. Do your exercises!

Scott felt his grin stretch his mouth. That was more like Peyton. The mouthwash note had seemed forced. Like she wanted to leave him a note but wasn’t sure what to say. Like she’d never left silly, sweet notes for someone before. He really fucking liked that. But the note on the creamer was a little more casual. And now this one. Yeah, that was more Peyton. Maybe she’d gotten into the note-writing thing with a little practice.

And then he went searching. Something told him there were more notes for him. He was maybe supposed to find them throughout the day as he was in and out of the different rooms of the house, but he wanted to see them all now.

Sure enough, on the remote in the living room there was a note that said,There’s a Die Hard marathon on channel 134 today…if you get tired of Grey’s. Hot cop saving the day seems like your thing.

There was also one on the window of his kitchen door. It read,Turn around, go back to the couch and sit down. You need to heal.

The final note was on the dresser mirror in the bedroom—I ordered you a T-shirt. You’re welcome.With it, she’d hung a photo of the T-shirt. It said, “The last thing I want to do is hurt you…but it’s still on the list.”

He grinned. And was really glad his friends weren’t around to see how much he fucking loved this. That note was all Peyton. Even if she hadn’t actually ordered the T-shirt.

And this note had a smiley face. Peyton Wells had drawn him a smiley face.

Her notes were sweet, funny, and she was taking care of him. And drawing him smiley faces. Scott was ninety-nine percent sure she’d never left a note with a smiley face on it for any of the other guys she’d dated. That just wasn’t really her style. Except that it was, deep down. Where she cared abouthim.

Grinning like an idiot, Scott took four muffins and a cup of coffee with vanilla-caramel creamer into the living room and flipped on the TV. Then he pulled out his phone and texted her.

Hot cop saving the day seems like YOUR thing.

Then he started on the next episode ofGrey’s Anatomy.

Her return text came a minute later.You’re right. I do have a thing for cops.

He smiled and felt warmth spread through him. This was working. She was writing notes even though it was totally out of her comfort zone. The notes didn’t have to be good. Just the fact she was writing them at all was amazing.

But theyweregood.

Then he bit into one of the muffins.

They were cinnamon. And beyond good. He moaned and grabbed his phone.

This is the sexiest muffin I’ve ever eaten. At least to date. And yes, I mean that in every dirty way possible.

She didn’t respond right away, so he hit play on the DVD player. He didn’t mind if she just thought about that for a little bit.

Ten minutes later her reply wasWHAT?! A muffin isn’t sexy!

He grinned. She hadn’t been trying to be sexy but it seemed that she couldn’t help it. At least not with him.

I even find your toothbrush beside my sink sexy, Trouble. There’s nothing you can do that’s NOT sexy. And you know what cinnamon does to me. Don’t tell me you didn’t make cinnamon muffins on purpose.

I didn’t! I swear! I just…crap.

He laughed out loud.Can you come home for lunch?

No!

God, he liked her.Then I guess I’ll have to take care of myself. Again.

Scott!!!!

Laughing even harder now, he replied,What?And added an angel emoticon. He didn’t use emoticons. And definitely not angels.

The next text from her was a photo of the town square with Frank, Albert, Conrad and Larry, four the older men in town who were some of the biggest gossips and funniest citizens, playing horseshoes. It looked like a Norman Rockwell painting. Her message saidBeautiful day out. You should go sit on the porch and read a book, or meditate, or call your mother.

He laughed. And didn’t reply.

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