Page 11 of Two Wrong Turns

“Yeah, I am. Any chance you’re up to sharing some of that?”

When I pointed to the pancakes, he shook his head. My heart dropped at the reply.

“I’m not sharing this. It’s yours. So is that.”

He pointed to the table, which I’d somehow missed when I came in. The space was covered in more food than I could consume in a week.

Fresh fruit. Pancakes and waffles. Sausage. Bacon. Eggs done multiple ways. And even some type of casserole.

“There’s no way I’ll be able to eat all this alone. I would love to try a bit of everything though.”

Nolan’s frown gave way to a slight upturn of his lips. It wasn’t quite a full smile, yet I felt the full force of it as if it were.

“Have a seat. I’ll bring this over too. I’ll help you eat some of it.”

“I don’t mind at all. I’m not lying when I say I can’t possibly eat it all. You have to help me.” I put a bit of a command to my words. He doesn’t seem bothered at the forceful tone. If anything, I’d guess he was amused by my boldness.

As I took my seat, he shut down whatever else he had going in the kitchen and brought over the plate of pancakes. It was then I noticed that some were plain and the ones he had were chocolate chip. Same with the waffles. I couldn’t hide the way I licked my lips or the way I eagerly lifted my empty plate to fill it.

Nolan didn’t call me out for it. Instead, he took his own plate, then began following me to add his own items. He waited to grab something only after I had taken what I wanted. Like he needed me to have first dibs.

It was such a strange situation to find myself in. The sheriff of the town, a man far too attractive for my own good, had offered me a place to stay and fed me. He’d fed me twice, actually, if we counted the time in the diner.

Neither of us spoke as we ate. I had my own reasons for holding back, and I was sure Nolan was counting down the minutes until he could leave. Then again, maybe he was nervous about leaving a stranger in his home.

“I can leave today if you need me to,” I blurted after finishing the last bite of waffle on my plate.

“Why would I need you to leave?”

“Because you don’t know me. It’s understandable if you don’t know how to feel about me being here when you’re not.”

His eyes swept over me, the look both evaluating and full of — something. I wanted it to mean more, like maybe he wasinterested in me in some way. It was more likely annoyance or something. There was no chance he wanted me like that.

“You’re free to be here as long as you need. And you have access to everything in my home. Nothing is off limits.”

I bit my lip, a question on the tip of my tongue. Technically, this wouldn’t be his home that I’d be using. Just the view.

“Do you mind if I set up my paints and do a bit of work? The view from the back is really gorgeous. I’d like to try to capture it.”

“Have at it. I will be gone most of the day. I’ll make dinner when I’m back. You can eat anything here for lunch or head into town for food at the diner again. You’re not a prisoner, Barrett. This is your home now too.”

His words were both a bother and a comfort. How could a place I’d never been already feel like home? And why did he look unhappy about the entire thing? He kept saying I could stay, even when his face made me feel like I should be packing it up and hitting the road.

But first, I had to paint this view. There was no getting away from it.

I’d been captivated by its natural beauty. I couldn’t leave without attempting to get it on the canvas.

Nolan left to get ready for work as I went out to my car to get my supplies. It took some digging around and shuffling of bags, but eventually I found a big enough canvas and my collection of paints. I dragged them inside, setting them up on the back porch on top of a drop cloth.

Protecting my area was key when I worked. I often got too caught up in a piece to pay attention to what was happeningaround me. More than once I’d found the room had as much paint on the floor as I’d put on the canvas.

And don’t get me started on my clothing. I would be a mess.

“I’ll see you later,” Nolan called from the back door right as I was placing my easel where I thought it would work best.

“Have a good day. I’ll see you tonight.”

The domestic words slipped free before I could help it. I wasn’t sure why it felt so natural to wish him well when we barely knew one another.

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