Page 17 of Tangled Hearts

At my quizzical look, she explains, “The next morning. Shouldn’t you be creeping out in the middle of the night and doing a walk of shame?”

“How is walking from your place shameful?” I slide the plate in front of her. “The only reason why I wouldn’t take out an ad to let everyone know I slept in your bed is that I don’t want to be fighting off a football team of men trying to get through your front door.”

Her cheeks pinken to the same rosy shade that colored her skin when I kissed her. It makes me want to sweep everything to the floor and take her on top of the marble, but I resist. Her first time—our first time—should not be on a kitchen counter. Last night was just the first step. No need to rush. The end will be sweeter if we take our time.

“Do you have plans today?”

She shakes her head, mouth full of pancakes.

“We could catch a matinee together, or you could run errands with me. I promised my mom I’d get her new kitchen towels. The ones she’s been using existed when I was a kid. It’s time to retire them.”

“I love a good houseware store.” Nat’s eyes sparkle, and the excitement in her voice backs up her words.

“Great. Let’s stop by my place so I don’t have to walk into Sur La Table commando. I’ve heard they frown on that.”

“Would they know?”

“Possibly not, but my magnetism is so strong that it might cause a riot.”

“We wouldn’t want that.”

Having devoured a full stack before she got up, I clean the kitchen, but I’m soon done, and there’s nothing for me to do but lean against the sink and watch her eat. My attention deepens the pink to a flame red, like her cheeks were when my head wasbetween her legs, and the lips I was kissing weren’t the ones on her face.

I wait until she’s finished before taking her back to the bedroom, where I spend some time eating my second meal of the morning—a tangy, tart one that lingers on my tongue hours later when we’re fully clothed and at the shops.

Natalie picks out the green dish towels with yellow ducks for Mom. She picks up a special gadget for herself that helps slice strawberries for the “strawberry compote I’m going to make with waffles.”

Knitted tea cozies in the shape of chickens catch my eye. I pick one up to see how it’s constructed.

“Does your mom like chickens? I think there were roosters on one of the dish cloths. I’ll go and get it instead of these.” She holds up the towels we had already picked out.

I grab her arm before she can scamper off. “No, the ducks are cute.” I put the chicken back on the shelf. “I was just curious how these were made. They seemed to be too cheap for handmade knitted goods, but it appears they are machine made.”

She peers closer, her cheek brushing my arm as she leans in. “How do you know?”

I fetch the tea cozy off the shelf and flip it over so the inside seam is visible. “Here. A handmade knitted product wouldn’t have seams. Knitters create the structure through increase and decrease stitches. It’s still cute.”

“Wow. You know so much about knitted things. That’s really cool. Did you have a knitter as a client?”

A man who knits? That’s a girl’s hobby!Julie’s words zip across my brain, and my initial response of “no, I’m the knitter” dies on my tongue. I’ll tell Natalie later, after we’ve made love, after she gets to know me. No need to scare her off with a “girl’s hobby” before this relationship gets off the ground. I make a small internal compromise. “My mom’s a knitter. For as long asI can remember, she’s always had some yarn and needles in her hand. She’d knit on the subway, at the movie theatre during the previews, even in line waiting to be checked out at the grocery store.”

“I’ve always wanted to learn,” Natalie says as we are checking out. “Well, not always, but during COVID I wanted to pick up a hobby.”

“Didn’t have the time, though?” I guess. Even COVID didn’t slow down the law business. Zoom calls, virtual hearings, electronic filing made it easy for the legal machines to keep chugging along.

“Yes, and weirdly I have more time now. Maybe I should pick it up.”

I could teach you, I think.We could knit together.I opt for a more neutral response. “There are a lot of instructional videos out there.” I learned that way because while Mom would have been thrilled to teach me, she had been sick when I picked up the needles, and by the time she was well enough to knit on her own again, I didn’t need teaching. “I heard the best way to learn is to just do.” That’s a piece of advice I heard my mom give someone else. Not me, though, because I’d never shown any interest. To me, before Mom had cancer, knitting was a girl’s hobby. It’s why I can’t be angry with Julie. She just gave voice to the same stereotype I’d held.

I brush those negative thoughts away and smile down at Natalie, who is not Julie. “Let’s go take these to my mom.”

Chapter Fourteen

NATALIE

It's not until we're walking toward the front door of Dylan's mom's home that it dawns on me that this might be going a little fast. I’m meeting his mother. Isn’t that something you do six months in? Hell, maybe a year.

Why hadn’t that dawned on me before now? I know there is no way in hell I’m bringing him around my mom anytime soon. She would read way more into this and probably scare the man off. Especially once she finds out he’s a lawyer.

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