Page 82 of Not Looking
“Whoops, sorry,” he said. “I need to go. We’re going to lunch with Callum’s parents. Meet up when I get back to Mount Sable?”
“Sure. Enjoy your lunch.”
“I will,” he chirped. “From everything I’ve seen so far, he has a good family, so I think I lucked out on the in-laws.”
I chuckled. “Happy for you. See you when you get back.”
“Later.”
The line disconnected, and I leaned back and stared at the ceiling.
Kerry was right, but I couldn’t erase the past that easily.
∞∞∞
Craig’s fingers were laced with mine as we strolled down West Lake Drive. Russy ran slightly ahead of us, accustomed to his normal walking route.
We’d been courting for a week, and part of it still felt surreal after so many years of being single. But it felt wonderful, too.
As excited as Craig had been about courting me, he wasn’t pushy. Instead, he was patient and gentle—meeting me where I was. We’d talked on the phone several nights after the weekend had ended, and we’d had our first official date the night before—where he’d reserved a quiet back table in a restaurant I loved.
That we’d returned to my cabin after dinner—where he’d fucked me senseless—was a bonus.
What amazed me most was the way he fit into the quiet parts of my life and didn’t feel like an intruder.
Granted, it had only been a week. But times when I’d expected things to be awkward—breakfast, or watching television in the evening—were comfortable. I didn’t feel the need to fill the air with conversation just because he was there, and he seemed to be the same.
Even when we weren’t talking, he let me know that he was happy to be there. His fingers would trace up and down my arm as we cuddled on the couch, or he’d kiss my forehead as he cleared the table after breakfast.
We were able to exist in the silence, and I didn’t have to worry about what he was thinking.
Craig squeezed my hand, and I glanced up at him. “Hmm?”
He pointed to the nearby trees. “Those fall colors are pretty.”
I smiled as I looked at the bright yellow leaves. “They are.”
As if on cue, one of the yellow leaves fluttered down.
Craig released my hand and strolled to where the leaf had landed. He picked it up and returned.
“Here,” he murmured as he handed it to me. “The first leaf that fell during our walks.”
Fondness spread from my middle. It was simple, probably not something that many people would do. But he’d thought I might want a memento of such an ordinary day.
And his words: first leaf. They said so much in so little. They implied that he believed there would be more.
I inspected the token. The leaf was clean, with no chewed or torn edges. It was mostly yellow with bright orange highlights and was still pliable enough to be preserved.
Russy barked from where he’d stopped further up the road.
Craig laughed. “I think we’re being told to catch up.”
I smiled and reached for Craig’s outstretched hand. We laced our fingers again then continued our walk. With my free hand, I used the leaf’s stem to twirl it back and forth.
I’d press it in the pages of a heavy book and seal it once it had dried flat.
Chapter 18 - Craig
