Page 115 of Take Me Home

He feigned consideration then tugged her closer, his arms sliding all the way around her. His forehead dropped to hers. “Hazel,” he said, voice low and serious, “you had me at weird and uncomfortable.”

A laugh burst from her throat.

He kissed her right then, catching her mid-smile. The press of his lips was confident, certain, casting the last vestiges of her fear away. Relieved, she deepened the kiss. She wanted to make up for the entire week of kissing they’d lost.

But something still niggled at her. “Hold on. Did you quit the café or not? I didn’t mean for you to actually leave because of our agreement. I mean, at the time, I did. But when I showed up, and you weren’t there…”

Ash smoothed her hair back from her face. “I didn’t quit. I took some time off to take care of some stuff. Moving here, for one.”

“And?”

“Remember that night we talked at the Country Kitschin’, and I told you about the restoration I worked on last summer?”

She nodded.

“You made it seem so simple, that if I wanted to do restorations, I should go for it. And then my mom was on my case to make some changes—better apartment, reliable car, actual…happiness.”

“Smart woman.”

He smiled. “I agree. So, I reached out to a firm that works on historical sites in the area. They asked to see some of my work,said if I was serious about doing my professional hours with them after I graduate, I should consider a master’s with a specialization in preservation. I looked into the program here, and the application for next year is due in a few weeks. I’ve done most of it, just need to get recommendation letters. Then, wait and see.” He released a long, heavy sigh and raked his fingers through his hair.

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“So, you’ll be a grad student next year.”

“Hopefully.”

“And you’re not quitting the café?”

“Not yet. I can still pour your coffee.”

“I’m only thinking of Frank. Poor guy would be lost if you left for good.”

Ash bumped his shoulder into hers, sighing again. This time it sounded more relaxed, less like he’d been holding his breath. “I was only giving you space, not giving up. I thought if I came after you when you explicitly told me to back off, it would only hurt. I know I pushed you too hard with your dad.”

She started to interrupt, but he raised his palm to halt her.

“I thought knitting that scarf would be, like, a calming distraction, but it’s way fucking harder than Maggie made it look. I got a little impatient. But leaving that envelope was only halfway cheating. You still had to come to the café to see it. And you did.”

She reached for the pile of yarn on the coffee table. “So, this is a scarf?”

“That’s…generous.”

“It’s almost the same color as my old one.”

Ash scratched his eyebrow and gave her a sheepish smile. “Yeah, the colors all looked identical after about ten minutes in the yarn aisle. I panicked and hoped for the best.”

“Wait. Were you making this for me?”

“You loved that scarf,” he said simply.

Hazel fought to tamp down her smile and finally hid it by wrapping the scarf around her neck and over her mouth. “I love this one more,” she said into the yarn.

Ash tugged the material down and brushed his thumb across her lips. “It’s not finished.”

“Too bad. I’m never taking it off.”

---