Page 10 of Anchored

Maple’s head comes up. “I’ll help.”

We move into the kitchen area. Maple tries to put Mookie on the ground, but the little devil sits on Maple’s foot, blocking her from moving. Maple lets out another chuckle, and for once, I’m grateful for the little mutt.

“Looks like you’re on wine duty. Care for white or red?” I open the cabinet that holds both, along with a few bottles of hard alcohol I rarely dip into.

“Um, red, please.” Maple scoops up Mookie and has a seat at the small bar area that separates the kitchen from the dining room and living room.

I pour the wine and set a glass in front of her, sipping my own glass of merlot. With Mookie capturing her attention, I get busy bringing a pot of water to boil and dumping in a box of noodles. Ground beef goes in the pan and I turn on the burner to brown it. Spaghetti’s not the healthiest of dinners, but it’s the one meal I can reliably make without messing up. I’ll just have to use the extra carbohydrates to fuel a weight workout once dinner’s over.

“So, Holt McGrath. Tell me your life’s story,” Maple says, bringing the wineglass to her lips for a sip.

I keep an eye on the stovetop while I give her the condensed version. “Um, well. Born and raised here in Anchor Lake. I left for awhile for college and then building my business. Moved back here two years ago when my sister had a baby. How about you?”

“Hmm. Born and raised in Charlotte. Came here for my summers until I was thirteen when Dad made me go to science camps instead. I work with animals and live in Charlotte. I used to teach yoga and still take a bunch of classes.”

I smile at the mention of exercise. “Yoga’s extremely good for the body. I don’t personally take yoga, but I hear great things.”

I turn the burner off under the noodles and dump the pot into the strainer in the sink. Back in the pot, I dump in the meat. I quickly realize my mistake when nothing’s bright red.

“Shit,” I mutter under my breath. I forgot the spaghetti sauce. I should have known cooking while distracted would only exacerbate my normal chaos. Such is the life of someone living with ADHD. My mind is always in a million places and never on the one thing itshouldbe on.

“What’s wrong?” Maple says from behind me.

I twist to see she has Mookie tucked under one arm like a football. The little mutt is practically smiling as she stares at me. Traitor.

My hand rubs the back of my neck. “I forgot the sauce.” I move to the cupboard I use as a pantry and open it to see I’m out of spaghetti sauce. “Anndd…I’m out of sauce.”

Maple puts Mookie down, who whines like the affection whore she’s suddenly become in this woman’s presence. Maple lightly shoulders me out of the way and rummages through the cupboard, spinning back around with a can of stewed tomatoes and tomato paste in each hand.

“We can use these! Do you have a blender and some spices?”

I stare at her for a bit, waiting for the irritation at my fuckup to show in her demeanor. When it doesn’t, I grab my blender and help her open the cans. It takes an extra fifteen minutes, but we cobble together a sauce that tastes pretty damn good and pour it over the noodles and meat. As we finally have a seat at the bar and tuck into our meal, I can’t help but feel appreciation for the fact that Maple didn’t get irritated by my mistake.

I look up, right as Maple’s tongue darts out of her mouth to lick sauce off her puffy bottom lip. Her eyes lift and our gazes lock. I shouldn’t talk about the elephant in the room, but there are some things fourteen-year-old me needs to know.

“So…about that kiss when we were kids.”

ChapterFive

Maple

Why is a tall, muscular, handsome man holding a seven-pound fluff ball so damn adorable? And then when he messed up the spaghetti, Holtblushed. Like, cheeks red, eyes downcast, hands on hips, dejected. It was perhaps the most adorable thing I’ve seen a man do since…well…ever.

Which is really unfortunate because I’m here to take care of Grandma Gracie, who’s much worse than I thought, and I do not have time to harbor a renewed infatuation over my childhood crush.

The man makes it impossible to not be aware of his presence though. Not when his gaze is fixated on my lips, right before he brings those sparkling blue eyes to mine and asks me about our kiss all those years ago.

I choke on my bite of spaghetti. The noodle literally slithers down the back of my throat like a worm. I start hacking and Holt has to get up and move about the kitchen, getting me a glass of water. I take it gratefully, and swallow it down.Smooth, real smooth, Maple.

My face is flaming and I’ve already made a mess of myself, so why not put the cherry on top of this awkward sundae and admit the truth?

“I, uh, had a crush on you that summer.”

Holt’s smile is so enticing I find myself leaning toward him just to be closer to it. “I had a crush on you too.”

“What?” My jaw drops. “But you…you walked away! I thought I was a bad kisser or something.”

Holt’s smile turns sheepish. “No, I was embarrassed about my glasses falling off. I’d just gotten them a few months before and I hated them. Still hate them.”

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