Page 261 of Mountain Grump
“Okay. I’ll bring my bag in.”
Ethan takes a step toward the front door. “I can get it.”
“No, no. It’ll give me something to do.” I wave him off.
“Fine.” Ethan turns toward the hall. “I won’t be long.”
“Take your time.” I mean it. I need a moment to gather my composure. And a moment to decide how to tell Ethan I love him.
I slip my sandals on and step outside.
I could sit him down, tell him I have something to say. And then just say it.I love you.
Or I could wait until later. When we’re having sex, because I’m sure we will. And I could say it then.
I could cling to his shoulders and whisper it in his ear.
Opening my passenger door, I make a face at that idea.
I don’t think he’ll have a bad reaction to it. I have a pretty good feeling he might even say it back. But… what if I say it and it turns him off? Having him clam up would be bad enough. But if I told Ethan I loved him during sex and he lost his erection… I don’t know how to recover from that.
My eyes snag on the beaded suncatcher I made for Ethan, and I grab it off the seat before slinging my backpack over my other shoulder.
After sex.
Or in the morning.
One of those options.
Casually.
Good morning, Ethan. I love you.
I step back into the house, confident that’s the right choice.
Distracted, I set the suncatcher on Ethan’s dining table, then swing my backpack down.
A clatter startles me, and I spin to see a plastic water cup that I must’ve knocked onto the floor.
“Crap.” I leave my backpack on the dining table and rush toward the kitchen sink.
I grab the pair of hand towels next to the sink and hurry back.
Thankfully the cup didn’t break, but there is a puddle of water spreading across the hardwood floor now beneath the couch.
Down on my knees, I set the cup upright, away from the puddle, and start to soak up the water.
As I push the towel, I accidentally send more of the water under the couch.
Sighing, I grab the second towel and, holding one corner, flick my wrist so it spreads out on the floor below the couch, hopefully catching everything.
But it makes a… papery sound.
I drag the towel toward me, and it comes out wet. But it catches more than just water.
A folded piece of paper is stuck under the other end of the towel.
Not wanting to ruin whatever it is by dragging it through what’s left of the puddle, I let go of the towel and reach for the paper.
