I frowned. “No. Dreamlessly.”
He set his mug down. “Sounds boring.”
What in the hell? “Sorry to bore you.” I went to the coffee pot and poured my first cup.
“Annabelle, you’re not boring me. You’re misunderstanding what I’m saying. Get your coffee and come out on the deck.”
He walked out the sliding glass door, and left me standing there to figure out what he was doing.
I dumped some cream and sugar into my “Follow your dreams” mug. The irony wasn’t lost on me, and walked in the same direction he did. Turner was sitting in my dad’s chair. I stopped and analyzed how I felt seeing him sitting there. That was a special seat, and only someone who meant something to me should ever be allowed to sit there. After my parents died, all of the distant family and friends that came in and out of this house, I guarded that chair with my life. Nobody was to sit there except my dad or me. And since he was gone, it was only a place for me. A thousand emotions swirled through me, but not a single one was anger or the urge to tell him he needed to move. Turner was welcome there, and I was more than okay with it.
“You going to stand there watching me, or do you plan on coming over here to talk to me?”
I raised my brow despite him not being able to see it. “Are you always so bossy and demanding?”
“No. I could be worse,” he said matter of fact.
Great. Lord only knows what that was really like. I came to stand in front of him and made a show of leaning against the railing and feigning indifference to his sassy mouth.
“What’s up?”
He wanted to chuckle but he didn’t. Instead his expression turned stoic. “We are going to do something a little different. I know you probably want to have your coffee and go lay back down and drown out the day, but not today.”
My heart picked up its pace. “What are you talking about, Turner?”
“When you’re done with your little breakfast there. . .” He nodded toward my cup. “I’m going to need you to go take a nice long shower, relax your muscles, and get ready for the day. I’ll put some clothes out for you. We have somewhere we need to be this morning.”
I was already feeling defensive. He wasn’t going to force me out of my home just because he didn’t want to stay here. “No. You can go do whatever it is that you need to do, but I’m not in the mood to do anything.”
“I’m not asking, Annabelle.”
“Neither am I.” I squared my shoulders.
He sighed, looking slightly defeated. “Please. I’m not going to make you do anything that you don’t want to do, but this is something that I think you need.”
“And what’s that?”
He shook his head. “I’m not saying. You’ll fight me tooth and nail, and, frankly, I don’t think you are ready for that battle.”
“I’m not in the mood for one of your crazy ass dates, Turner.”
He almost looked offended. “I’m not taking you on a date.”
Okay, now I was confused. If he wasn’t taking me on a crazy date, where else would he need to drag me kicking and screaming?
“I need to have an idea of what is going on, okay? I’ll admit I’m feeling anxious about stepping foot outside of my comfort zone. You must at least understand that much.”
His eyes softened. “I do. We are meeting up with my mom. She asked me to bring you somewhere, and I promised I would. So would you please? If not for me, at least try for her?”
The mother card was now in play. What on earth could Donna have in store for me today? She’d stopped by a few times, maybe even more while I was sleeping, to check on me. She was the only one I’d confided in with my true feelings about Noah. She was a mom of four boys. There was something very maternal going on deep in my bones when it came to the baby. It was unexpected, but she opened her mind to why I felt the way that I did. She shared stories with me how she thought when Camden was born something horrible was happening to him. Turns out, he had an irregular heartbeat and a small murmur. When it’s your baby and they aren’t the epitome of health, your world stops. You question why these things are happening to you and your baby. Noah may not have been mine, but I did love him. I felt drawn to him the moment he was born and his own mother didn’t want to give him a name. I promised myself before I walked out of that delivery room that I would show him what a gentle touch was. Donna praised me for loving unconditionally. She said it was very much the sign of a mother. I wouldn’t call myself that at all, but if there was a step below that . . . that was me.
Since it was for Donna, I didn’t fight him. I held my cup in both of my hands and nodded. Standing, Turner took a step toward me and placed his lips on my forehead. I closed my eyes and savored the feeling. He was so warm, while I felt so cold. When he pulled away, he went back into the house giving me time to myself, as if I didn’t already have an abundance of it. I tossed the rest of my coffee over the railing, not feeling like stomaching the rest. Shower time.
It took me no time at all to get washed up. Although my hair was clearly in the mood to fight today. I won. When I came out of the steaming shower with a towel wrapped around me, Turner had made good on his word—a pair of black dress pants and a deep burgundy, three-quarter length top laid on the bed. This was a bit more fancy than I had expected. Where were we going? I sighed. Probably lunch at the country club or something. Anything for Donna to get me out of the house. I’d appease her. I was in no mood to mess with putting on make-up though. I threw my hair up while it was still wet, slapped on some clear gloss, and went out to the living room. Turner had already gotten dressed. He was wearing a pair of black slacks and a white button down dress shirt. Was this really how they dressed at the country club? I’d never been to one, so maybe. I’ve read some things about them being stuffy.
“You look nice.” Turner complimented me when I came into view.
“Thank you. So do you.”
He stood and grabbed his keys. “Alright, let’s head out.”