Page 33 of Silent Is The Heart

He drops his hand and looks at me, his posture relaxing. That smirk, the one I’m starting to think means the opposite of whatever he intends it to mean, plays on his face again.

I think I did okay without it.

Signing.Moresigning. He was so not okay without it. I want to crawl back into the tub and draw the shower curtain closed around me until they all leave. At least, though, I’ve gotten to the bottom of it.

“I’m sorry, Easton. I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I did that to you.”

Chuffing, he runs his fingers through his hair and takes a step toward the doorway, peering outside. “It’s fine,” he murmurs airily.

“It’snot. I was too self-absorbed and lost sight of what was important to me.”

His gaze flicks to mine, surprised. My face heats, remembering the kiss from last weekend at the most inopportune moment. I’m sure now that it was done just to punish me, that there’s nothing about me that’s important tohim, but I meant what I said. Hewasimportant to me then until I got blindsided by dreams of a happily ever after. Standing here, wrapped in this blanket while he fills my house with this unexpected gift and is showing me kindness when he has no earthly reason to, I know without a doubt that he most certainly is important to me now, too.

“Thank you,” I whisper, too choked up to give the words any more volume.

I wanted to know more about him. It just had to be on Easton’s terms, apparently. Everything in my soul wants to make the things being carted into my cottage disappear, but I have a feeling the amount of damage that would do to this bridge between me and the mysterious man before me would be irreversible. Easton with claws. Easton, the giver. Easton, the silently compassionate soul who can’t stand to take a compliment. He’s not careless about who he lets in, and I’ve been granted a pass. I don’t want it to be revoked now that I have it.

His phone rings, a welcome distraction. I try not to look curious when he brings it up to his ear, knowing it means he’s going to speak again. Turning, I shrug out of my blanket and fold it up. I can’t believe I stood here like a snowstorm rescue victim the entire time with it around me.

Something taps my shoulder. “Here. Talk to them, will you?” Easton holds his phone out expectantly.

“Who?”

“Cable. For your TV.”

Oh, my word. This is going too far. Cable is not a necessity of life.

“Easton, I don’t need cable.”

Rolling his eyes, he motions with his phone again. I know I likely underestimated how lucrative owning a tattoo business can be, but this is excessive. I can’t take advantage of his good deed to the extent it puts him in the same position that I am.

“That’s too much. Really. Don’t, please.”

Nostrils flaring, his hand doesn’t move a muscle, the phone still presented to me. Shit. Maybe I can appeal to his sense of pity.

“I can’t afford it.”

Sighing, he brings the phone back up to his ear. “This is going on my S&H account, right?” There’s a pause and then he swallows and enunciates with some apparent difficulty, “S&H account. Okay, good. Hang on again.”

With a pointed look, he hands his phone to me again. How could I have forgotten just how stubborn he can be? I’m about to exhibit the same amount when he adds softly, “Talk to them, please…so I don’t have to.”

It’s a vein sliced open, bleeding all over my heart. As much as I feel pathetic and embarrassed, I never want to see the same look on his face.

I no sooner reluctantly take his phone before he heads out the door, and I’m left listening to the salesman elaborate on all the different cable packages available to me. He only speaks salesman, though, because no matter how many times I tell him to enroll me in whatever is cheapest, he rattles on about bonus packages without detailing the prices.

Pacing, I try to muster patience, befuddled by all the activity around me. In my bedroom, I catch Fro and Shannon settingthe box mattress on the now assembled bed frame. There appears to be a brand-new comforter set still in its zippered plastic packaging on the floor next to where my mattress is temporarily leaning against the wall. How will I ever repay the kindness of these complete strangers? And what does it say about Easton that they’re doing all of this at his behest without a word or complaint?

Melissa flits past me with a smile. Curtains are draped over her arm as she sizes up the old lace valance that hanging in the front room window that was here when George gave me the keys to the place. Curtains? I don’t need curtains.

Another guy walks into my kitchen with a case of soda and two cases of beer under his arms. I hear music. Why is there music?

A peel of laughter floats out of the bedroom, and I catch Shannon bent over, amused at Fro’s sprawled-out position on my mattress like he fell on top of it when they flipped it onto the box frame. I spot aBluetoothspeaker on my bedroom windowsill, explaining where the background noise is coming from. It’s like a moving-in party that I wasn’t told about, everyone having a good time regardless of it involving manual labor.

The salesman asks if I’m still on the line, pulling me back into the painful bargain. “Look, I don’t need any of that stuff. Please, just whatever the lowest package is. Okay?”

Easton wheels past me with a brand-new dresser wrapped in plastic wrap on a dolly. The expression he shoots me says he heard my plea and isn’t pleased.

The sales guy just offered me something that includesHGTV. I don’t even own a home. Sensibility makes me draw a line at just how far I’ll go to appease Easton’s need to give. Iturn my back on him lest I be cajoled by his persuasive face and antics.

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