I crossed one leg in front of the other and brought an arm across my chest. “Don’t be,” I said, realizing how ridiculous it was that I hadn’t gone out and bought something like plaid pj’s. I’m sure girls around here didn’t wear silk and lace to bed.
“You just . . . uh . . . caught me by surprise. That’s all.” Calvin smiled. He forced his eyes to look at my face, and I did the same. “I see you found the coffee.” He gestured to my cup.
“I got a nose like a bloodhound for it.” I brought the mug to my lips and took a sip. Steam rose off the top of the liquid.
“Good. You make yourself at home at here,” Calvin said, reaching into the pocket of his jeans. “By the way, I forgot to give you this last night.” He handed over a silver key on a single loop.
“What’s this?”
“Key for the house. I usually leave it unlocked with it being the country and all, but with a lady in the house, figured I’d better lock up. Wanna make sure you feel safe . . .”
I slid the key ring onto my pointer finger and clasped the coffee mug with two hands, taking another slow sip. “Thanks . . .”
Safe? I had felt safe. Even slept like a baby last night. But what was out there that he needed to lock out? I considered asking but I didn’t want to come off as skittish. I wasn’t that type of person, so I brushed the thought aside. It was just my crazy brain, seeing the worst in everyone and every situation. When you’ve seen the worst in people, it’s hard to unsee it. It’s in all of us. However, I liked the idea of Calvin wanting to protect me, and I knew where it came from. When you lost someone, you ended up holding on to everything tighter. And Calvin had lost a lot.
“Got any plans for today?” he asked, shuffling his feet again.
“No plans, just relaxing. That’s the name of the game,” I said with a cool, laid-back tone.
“And how do you relax, Miss Grace?”
“Reading, yoga, running.”
“Some of that sounds like work,” he teased. “I don’t want to intrude on any of your relaxing time, but if you’d like me to, I can show you the grounds.”
I brought the mug to my mouth and took a slow sip. I could see in his eyes he wanted me to say yes. I took my time, making him squirm a little bit.
“I’d like that,” I finally landed on. “I’ll change quick.”
Turning on my foot, I started down the hallway. I glanced back at Calvin before disappearing into my bedroom and caught him staring at me. There was this intensity beneath his eyes. I had seen that look before. I couldn’t place it but I knew I liked it.
6.
Calvin
After seeing Grace in her—for lack of better words—night attire, I went outside to wait. I took a seat in a rocking chair on the porch and rocked back and forth slowly, replaying the image of her sipping coffee in my very own kitchen. She was a sight to be seen, dressed in silk and lace in a country kitchen—truly out of place. And I knew I saw the same look in her eyes that she had to have seen in mine—attraction, infatuation, lust, or maybe it was something else. I rubbed my hand over my cheeks and chin, trying to scrub the thoughts from my mind. She was here for nothing more than time to relax and get away from whatever it was she disliked about her current life. She wasn’t here to fall in love with a country boy, and I knew I couldn’t get involved without complicating things.
The screen door swung open, and Grace emerged. She was dressed in a tank top and them tight leggings that some girls think are pants. Her tennis shoes were a pristine white, like what the porch looks like after I give it a good pressure wash.
“Don’t you have anything you can get dirty?” I teased.
She looked down at her outfit and then back at me. “No, I don’t really get dirty in New York City—except with my clients,” she said with a laugh.
I chuckled and stood from my chair. I wasn’t sure exactly what she did in banking or what she did with her clients, but I got the feeling she was ruthless, or at least she could be.
“Maybe I’ll have to take you into town to get you some proper Wyoming wear.” I walked down the porch stairs while delivering a half smirk.
“Maybe you will,” she said, following behind.
As we walked, I kept turning back to look at Grace. I couldn’t help myself and nearly tripped over a rock while staring at her. When I got to the edge of my garden, I stopped.
“This here is my garden. I sell ninety percent of it to the local grocery store. The rest I eat.”
Grace stood beside me, taking it all in. It was just a large plot of land with an array of plants and vegetables lined up in neat rows with fencing all around it to stop the rabbits and other animals from getting in. Nothing too special, but it was special to me.
“What do you grow or plant or whatever the right terminology is?”
A small smile crept up on my face before I spoke. I was happy to hear she was actually interested in this—in what country folks did. I had assumed a city girl would think this stuff was beneath her. But Grace was different.
“Spinach, cabbage, brussels sprouts, onions, tomatoes, cauliflower, carrots, peppers, lettuce, kales, peas, and the list goes on and on.”
She rocked back and forth on her heels. “I have a great recipe for brussels sprouts.” There was enthusiasm in her voice.
Grace was definitely different, and in only the fourteen hours I had known her, she was surprising me in more ways than one. Around here not many people surprised me, not anything really surprised me. Every day was the same mundane thing. Wake up, take care of the animals, take care of the garden, take care of the house, and if there was still time in there, take care of myself. I had become an afterthought in my own life. But in the little bit of time I had known Grace, I thought of her before me but thinking about her made me feel like I was thinking about me—like we were one and the same, a cracked walnut. Sure, the inside is nice but that’s just because the two ugly halves made it.
“I should be able to harvest them this week,” I said with the most amount of fervor I think I had ever had in my voice, but I quickly tapered it down. “And I’d love to try it,” I added in my typical deep, country tone. I left out the fact that I hated brussels sprouts. I only grew them because they didn’t take up much space in the garden, and they sold well at the grocery store.
“Great,” she said. “They’re my favorite vegetable.”
“Mine too,” I lied. It was just a little white lie. Grace was clearly excited about cooking them for me, so I didn’t want to ruin that.