Page 15 of A Not So Merry Ex-Mas

I knew how hard he had worked to get to the major leagues, and I could only imagine how devastated he was. I had his contact info up on more than one occasion but never hit the call button. I was the one who had stopped answering his calls. If I called, would he answer mine?

Fear got the best of me and I couldn’t make myself call him.

Then Gran took a turn for the worse, and Cole’s injury was all but forgotten. And I met Dean.

I close my eyes, take a deep breath and head to the kitchen. There’s no point in denying that I’m hungry and that a warm, delicious meal is awaiting me if I only take Cole up on his invitation.

A hard laugh escapes me as I recognize that, for this moment, I am unprepared to fight this battle. I’ll pick up the war after I have a full belly.

I can only hope that my hangryness keeps Cole from trying to talk. I’m definitely not in the mood for conversation, especially with him.

When I step in front of the kitchen, I nearly pass out from the goodness that envelopes me, but I can’t seem to make my feet step over the threshold. I glance at the two bowls on the table.

I narrow my eyes, and cross my arms at the arrogance of him putting two place settings out.

Movement catches my eyes, and I watch him as he gracefully moves around the kitchen. He grabs some silverware, a pot holder and napkins, then brings them over to the table. He places them in their intended spots before heading back to the stove for the Dutch oven.

There is such ease. It’s as if he does this all the time. I feel a thickness in my throat as I watch him, a longing I thought gone filling me. My stomach clenches, and the muscles in my jaw loosen.

He grabs two glasses from the cabinet, a pitcher from the counter, before finally settling in the chair furthest from the door, leaving an open seat for me.

He fills his glass and bowl without acknowledging me standing in front of the door. Despite this being exactly what I want, a heaviness fills me.

My stomach grumbles, and I finally admit defeat, taking the seat next to him.

The kitchen is filled with the sound of tinkling silver hitting glass and liquids pouring, but the weight in the room is heavy and tense.

The first spoonful of stew makes it to my mouth, and it takes everything in me not to groan out loud. The beef is melt-in-your-mouth delicious, and the flavors bursting on my tongue have me closing my eyes.

When the yummy goodness hits my stomach, I can hear its thank you whispering to every part of my body. I open my eyes and glance in Cole’s direction, but nothing reflecting on his face tells me he’s noticed my reaction.

After what feels like a few hours but actually is mere minutes, I break. I’ve always been awful with silence. It drives me crazy. Now Cole, on the other hand, can go forever. His athletic training has given him an ability to focus that I will never have.

“What were you doing back outside earlier?” I quickly shove a spoonful of stew in my mouth as if to punish myself for speaking, but I moan as my senses are overloaded as the savory tastes hit my tongue.

I look up when I don’t hear any response, only to meet gleaming green eyes. A shock runs through mybody and leaves me momentarily forgetful of why I looked up in the first place.

“Mike called earlier to let me know a storm is coming. I checked on the generator to make sure it was good to go if we needed it.” My eyes follow his hand as he lifts the spoon to his mouth and chews. “And chopped some more wood.”

“Oh,” I say, slightly breathless, but then what he actually said hits my brain. “Wait. Did you say a storm?”

“I did.” He picks up his cup and takes a sip without saying anything else.

“What kind of storm?” I fish for more details when I realize he won’t provide them.

“A blizzard, possibly.”

My mouth drops, and my eyes pop open. “Did you just say a blizzard?”

“I did.” He shrugs. His lips are pressed together as if trying to hold back a smile, but it breaks free when he sees my expression.

“Mel planned this,” I scoff, and he laughs, eliciting a glare from me.

“Does Mel have some sort of magical weather powers I’m unaware of?” I purse my lips, narrow my eyes, and watch in real-time as he tries to control his facial expressions. “We’ve all been watching the storm forthe last few days, but as of yesterday, it looked to be heading further west and was just supposed to skim us.”

He doesn’t say anything else as he grabs another spoonful of stew. Meanwhile, I’m just staring at him with my jaw still hanging on the table.

“And?” I prompt, trying to get more information.

---