9. Nash

Chapter 9

Nash

I barely had a spare minute tonight before I realized it was after midnight and time to close. I love it when work flies by, and I stay busy until the end. I finished closing and hit the light before heading up the back stairs and stopping at my computer to check if she emailed me back. She did, and I sat to read, plopping down and placing my hand under my jaw, exhausted but curious to see what she had to say.

Dear CC Management,

Oh my goodness, you did NOT have to do that! I will admit that it will help me out to catch up a little bit, and I appreciate it so much. Seriously, I’m blown away by your generosity. Thank you. I will admit I’m curious as to who you are. Are you a Cozy Creek local? Is it okay if I ask your name and how old you are? I could always use a friend. Maybe you could, too?

Signed,

Your thankful and new friend 2906 tenant

P.S. Please call me Everly.

I chuckled at her email and sent a quick response. I’m glad I could help her with the rent. Another reason I want this to be anonymous is that I know that I’m toeing the line with these emails. I should shut my computer and stop emailing. But I can’t.

Everly,

It’s not a problem at all. Sorry that your stairs were a mess. I hope they look okay. I knocked them out today. My name is Reed, and I’m thirty. Tell me a little about yourself. And I can always use a friend, as well.

Reed

Guilt pricks at me for lying to her, but I can’t tell her who I am. Part of it is true. Reed is part of my last name, and I really am thirty. Not technically lying , I tell myself. Maybe she’ll never know, and we can just be emailing friends.

I shower to wash the day off me, having it out with my dick. I spend more time with my hand than a woman because I can’t do casual sex with random women anymore. And if dirty thoughts of Everly send me over the finish line, I try not to dwell on it too much. I lean my head against the cold tile of my shower and sigh. I didn't realize I'd be this lonely when I pictured my life after doing everything I set out to do. Working at the pub, managing my farrier clients and then my properties leave me exhausted. Sometimes I wish I could control-alt-delete these feelings because I’m tired of feeling like all I do is work and sleep and have no life. I have tried to move on and find someone to settle down with. Believe me, I’ve tried. I can’t settle down with anyone because they aren’t Everly. No one will ever be like her or mean as much as she means to me.

For the first time in a long time, I fall asleep relaxed and at peace. I have a small piece of her back. It might not be like it was, but it’s better than having nothing at all.

I wake up to a soft noise clamoring below me in the pub kitchen. Soft music plays, and there is the occasional clank of a pan in the sink, oven door shutting, and typical kitchen sounds. I close my eyes and remember that it’s Saturday, and Hayley is baking before we open. Which means she probably has coffee ready. I get ready for the day, brushing my teeth quickly and pulling on a T-shirt before heading down the back stairs. But when I get to the bottom of the stairs, my breath hitches, and I halt when I see Everly and no Hayley in sight.

She leans against the counter, with a coffee mug in her hands as she stares off like she’s deep in thought. I take in the soft smile on her face as she hums to the music. Her eyes are a little tired but still the same stunning blue, and her curves are accentuated by the apron that cinches at her waist. She’s so beautiful, taking my breath away in this quiet moment. When my feet hit the bottom of the stairs, her eyes slide to me and grow wide. She freezes with the mug to her lips.

“Good morning,” I say quietly as I stand there and stuff my hands in the pockets of my joggers. I don’t want to make her feel uncomfortable, and I seem to do that just by existing in her presence.

She stares at me, and I don’t miss the way her eyes scan me and land on my face as she stands straighter, quickly looking away. “Good morning. Er, um, Hayley isn’t feeling well and asked me to cover for her this morning.”

I blink and try to hold back a grin. No way Hayley is sick. I don’t think her body even knows how to get sick. She is orchestrating something here, that’s for sure. Everly might have fallen for it, but I see through my sister’s bullshit. She was fine yesterday and loves her quiet Saturday mornings for baking. She plays music and gets all her stuff done with no one around to bother her. No way she’s sick.

“Thanks for helping. We could use your help around here. It’s nice of you to offer,” I say softly.

Hearing this, she seems surprised and softens, and says shyly, “Would you like some coffee? I made plenty.”

I take in the kitchen, tidy but functional and industrial, something we splurged on when we updated the pub. She has all the ovens full and going. Everly seems at home here already, and it smells fantastic. I didn’t even know she could bake like this .

“I’d take a cup to go if you’ve got extra,” I say, trying to be casual.

She turns and grabs a cup and begins to fill it, her hand shaking slightly.

She looks beautiful with her face flushed from the kitchen, her black apron over her snug white T-shirt, and jeans that hug her ass just right. Her hair is pulled up in a messy bun, and a few of the tendrils escape, and her bright lipstick does things for me. I haven’t seen her around without it since she’s been back. It makes me imagine her lips and what I’d like to do with them. Run my finger over the plump bottom and kiss her while biting it.

I shouldn’t think about her like this. But what was all that talk about her telling Hayley she was checking me out? Maybe she doesn’t dislike me as much as I thought.

Since she’s been back, she doesn’t make small talk with me. This is the most she’s interacted with me. Maybe we’re getting somewhere. Jesus, about damn time. I’ve waited for her to come around for months. When we brought her back to Cozy Creek, she was so broken and sad. I hated it, but I knew she needed a soft place to fall and make her feel safe. And as much as I wanted it to be, I knew that wouldn’t be me. She let me know that she didn’t feel the same way all those years ago. I often think about that night and what I should have said to convince her to stay. I still second-guess everything about that night she told me she was pregnant.

She turns and reaches for the fridge handle and almost crashes into me. I reach out to steady her, my eyes going to hers, my hands bracing her biceps as I hold her to me, not pushing her away, feeling her heat against mine. I hold her firmly but gently, not wanting to hurt her in any way. I notice her breath catch and those red lips parting softly. The feel of her smooth skin at the point where the material of her T-shirt sleeve ends. My thumbs absentmindedly sweep back and forth, savoring the feel of her, intoxicating and heady. But the look in her eyes is the thing that fells me. She’s affected by our proximity. She…likes it.

“I’m…sorry,” she stammers, her face flushing as she looks up at me, her lips quirking.

“It’s okay,” I murmur, wondering what it would be like to hold her like this more often. I like it.

She looks to the side of us nervously like she wants to flee, so I scoot back a little and keep my hands on her to steady her.

She stills. “What are you doing?”

“Keeping you from falling,” I say as I release her arms and take the cup she has set on the counter for me.

“No, I mean talking to me. I thought you didn’t want to talk to me,” she says, but all I can focus on is her lips, plump and red, and her bright white teeth. I wonder if my lips would be stained red for the rest of the day if I kissed her lips.

“Who said I don’t want to talk to you?” I scan her face as my lips curl into a smile even though I’m trying to play it cool.

“You just… don’t,” she huffs, but her eyes dart back to mine. Then they travel down my face and over my chest, and she looks to the side again quickly .

Yep. Getting somewhere.

“Maybe we should change that,” I offer as I lean back against the counter and reach to take a sip of my coffee, remaining in her space as I try not to stare at her.

“Did you mix up our coffees?” I ask as I set it back down.

She frowns, looking confused. “No. You always used to drink pumpkin-flavored drinks when we were friends.”

When we were friends.

Fuck.

I say nothing and stare at her, my smile gone and feeling deflated. She stares back defiantly. And as defiant as she tries to be, I know the truth, the real Everly. She misses me.

I smirk and grin at her, taking another sip as I raise my eyebrows. She thinks she’s pushing me away. Her attitude makes me want to be around her even more. I’m done with these games we’ve been playing. And she needs to be done too. I gave her time. Now I’m going to see if she’s done with me. If she is, it’s going to hurt like hell. But fuck, I miss her, I realize as an ache fills my chest.

“So it’s gonna be like that,” I mutter over my mug.

“Gonna be like what?” she challenges.

“We have things to work out, Ev.” I reach out and tuck a lock of blond hair behind her ear that has escaped from her messy bun. My fingers run along her cheekbone, making her close her eyes, and she leans into me slightly and stills.

“Like what?” she repeats nervously, still not moving away from my touch .

“Like why you think we’re no longer friends,” I say as I reach over for her cup and hand it to her.

“Well, we’re not. I don’t know what we are, but we’re not friends,” she says evenly as she sets her cup down and walks over to check the oven. Using the dish towel tucked into her apron, she slides out pans of sourdough bread, slides in more, and sets the timer, then turns to look at me.

I can’t take my eyes off her.

I look at her and smile. “We’ll see about that,” I call as I turn and head out the back door, closing it softly behind me.

A good start.

I make my way out as I take a big swig of my coffee. It tastes like memories of Everly. Memories I’m going to do my best to fix.

Yeah. Today’s gonna be a good fuckin’ day.

I take my usual run and add a few extra miles to burn off some excess energy. Everly is long gone when I get back, but an email awaits me in my inbox.

Reed,

Thank you so much for fixing my stairs. They look beautiful and are super sturdy now. Willow (my daughter) and I appreciate it very much. I was hoping to thank you in person and meet you. I will admit, it is kind of fun communicating through emails. Maybe we can try text, but if email is what you’re more comfortable with, that’s fine, too.

You asked about me, so I’ll tell you, and hopefully not bore you to death.

I’m twenty-eight and a single mom of a horse-loving eight-year-old. She’s a good kid, in the third grade, and pesters me daily for horseback riding lessons, which I’m hoping to make happen for her soon.

I love to read, and I especially love everything about fall. If that doesn’t scare you off as far as being my friend, then please text or keep emailing. My friend jokes that I’m basically a seventy-year-old in a twenty-eight-year-old’s body. I love to decorate and work hard to make our home cozy. I love thrifting and DIY home projects. I’m a foodie through and through and love to cook and bake. I’ve been making a different fall soup and bread for us nearly every day and love trying out new recipes. How about you? Tag, you’re it.

Everly

I chuckle at this and decide to be as close to honest as I can. I’m insanely curious about all of this. I want to know what soups she’s making and what projects she’s working on. I’ve missed her. Everly has always been the right woman, wrong time. And while she’s back, I risk her not feeling the same as I feel for her and especially worry about what will happen when she realizes I’m her fake landlord. I’m playing with fire here, risking messing things up again. But I can’t bring myself to stop emailing. I miss her so damn much.

Everly,

Not scared so far. I’m thirty, single, never married, and I work a lot. I manage properties and pretty much just stay busy with work. I love horses too and hope to have some of my own someday. I have a property outside of Cozy Creek that I plan to build a home on someday when I have my own family. That’s what I’ve been working hard toward .

What are your favorite things about fall? What soup did you make today? I’m not going to lie, you have me curious about these soups and breads. I can cook but not very well. But I love to eat.

Reed

I’m surprised when a response comes back quickly as if she’s waiting.

Reed,

Today’s soup of the day is Italian meatball with a loaf of crusty homemade sourdough bread. Your dream of building a home outside of Cozy Creek sounds divine. There’s nowhere as beautiful as Cozy Creek. My friends own a big ranch outside of town. I practically grew up there, and it’s the most special place in the world to me. You won’t find a more spectacular view, especially in the fall. And in the winter? The snowcapped mountains are so beautiful they’ll practically make you cry. What do you think your house will be like when you build it? Do you have a dream for it?

Everly

Her writing about the ranch being home fills me with hope. Maybe I will have a chance with her. I’m not sure what that would look like, and I will admit, it scares me. Am I good enough for her? Everly deserves the world, and I want to be the one to give it to her. I want to be the one to make her smile and feel safe. Nothing about her body language the other day said rejection. It was an invitation. It was confusing. Like she wanted me too.

We’ve been emailing back and forth, and I have lost track of time. I love this and need this. I think she does, too. And hell yeah, I have a dream for that home. With her in it.