Page 63 of Damaged King

“You made me a swing?”

Her astonishment and utter happiness were enough to make me feel like Superman.

“I promised you a chair. Does this work?”

“Does this work? I can’t believe you did this,” she said, staring at me with wonder.

I wanted to tell her there was so much more I could do if she’d let me, but now wasn’t the time.

“Just sit your sweet little ass there and let me help give you a push.”

I winked at her, ignoring the chill in the air. Her excitement was the balm that I needed to warm the day. So I pushed and savored her squeals of delight. Later, I would think about how this simple act made me happier than I’d been with any woman.

“Stop,” she finally said, giggling. “We should get back.”

“Why?” I held the rope and stopped her forward progress.

She hopped off and reached a hand back to me. She had no idea the victory I felt in that gesture.

“I have something for you.”

I let her lead me back to the cabin, as I could only guess her surprise for me.

Inside the cabin, my stomach growled when I smelled food. Then another smell invaded the air. A scent that even the fire couldn’t hide.

“Oh my God,” Jolie cried, running for the stove, grabbing things with a mitt and moving them off with haste. When she spun to face me, panic filled her face as she tried to block my view of what I already knew. “I wanted to keep it warm for you.”

I tried and failed to contain a grin as I moved in front of her. I placed my hands on her hips and shifted her to attempt to salvage the meal she’d made for me.

“It’s ruined,” she cried.

From the looks of things, the bacon was beyond crispy, the eggs were runny on top and hard as a rock on the bottom. The pieces of toast from the toaster were just shy of black. I reached out as tears brimmed in her eyes.

27

Jolie

To hold back a sob,I covered my mouth, as I’d made a mess of things. I watched in horror as Grant snagged a piece of toast and a butter knife. Then he proceeded to scrape the dark parts off into the sink with not one piece but two.

After placing the salvaged toast on a plate, he scooped up some of the congealed eggs and piled them on the bread. He then took burnt bacon that looked as hard as a rock and placed them on the eggs. I tried not to gag as he topped the sandwich and bit into it and murmured sounds of satisfaction.

I couldn’t let him eat the mess on his own and made myself a smaller version of the sandwich with only one slice of toast. It wasn’t exactly horrible, and I forced it down.

“Thanks, babe,” he said, after swallowing the final bite.

With a mouth full of food, I bobbed my head, wondering when he would do something that would make me not that attracted to him. Not to mention he’d once again called me babe. I had no idea why it gave me a thrill whenever he said it, but I had to squash this.

In two weeks’ time, the fantasy bubble he was creating would pop. I would leave the swing he’d made for me by hand from the looks of it. I would leave everything I was coming to love about the mountains and living in a cabin off the grid.

Though it was winter, I’d heard a few birds chirping. I’d seen a deer. Grant had been the one to point out the slices of life. Earlier, he’d shushed me before I could speak while on the walk from the woods. We paused and watched before it became aware of us and took off. In this short time, I’d realized that I wasn’t a city girl. I wasn’t even a beach girl. I was a snow bunny. Who would have thought?

Changing the subject, I said, “Your cousin seemed nice. Are the two of you close?”

Grant was over by the fire as I’d opted to clean up.

“We grew up like brothers,” he said.

“Are you related on your mother’s or father’s side?”

---