Page 54 of The Matchmaker's Cottage

An overwhelming feeling came over her then, the need to getaway. And since they were inherbathroom, adjoiningherbedroom, it was he who had to go.

“Ethan.” She looked at him, feeling her face soften a bit. “This has been…a lot. Let’s talk more tomorrow. Okay?”

Whatever he saw in her face must have gotten through to him, because he nodded again, slowly this time, as though sifting through her words carefully. “Okay.”

Standing up, he stretched his long, muscular frame in her cramped bathroom, making it seem ten times smaller than it was. His gaze shifted to Julia, still on the floor, and he paused for a moment before offering her his hand.

She looked at it, considering for a brief moment whether or not she should disregard it, before taking it with a sigh and allowing him to pull her up.

Instead of letting her go immediately, he instead drew her closer, pulling her to him in a brief embrace before letting her go once more. She’d barely had time to react—one minute she was in a near-crushing clasp against his chest, and the next she was unanchored, swaying in the cooling air of the small room, bereft of the contact she’d had mere seconds before.

“Don’t scare me like that again,” he said gruffly, looking away from her, dark eyebrows furrowed over light eyes. “And wewillbe talking more tomorrow.”

It didn’t sound like a threat exactly. More a promise.

She nodded, words jamming in her throat.

Giving her a brief, grimly satisfied nod back, he turned and left. She heard him depart her room completely, heard his heavy footsteps going up the creaking stairs.

She unsteadily made her way to her bed and sat on it carefully, feeling her heart pound in a way that had nothing to do with another attack and everything to do with how screwed she currently was.

What now?

* * *

“This is fun!”

The next morning, Maggie led the way out the door toward the rockier, more scenic part of Lake Linden, which she’d dubbed her favorite part. She was the only person in their group of five who seemed to have the right level of enthusiasm for their outing. The group’s general lack of excitement was mainly evident when her exclamation was met by a variety of responses, most of them around the level of a grumble.

Julia, for her part, was feeling the outcome of yet another night of restless sleep. She rarely had a good night after one of her episodes, and the one that had just passed was no exception. This time, however, it had been compounded by something even more unsettling: the way her mind kept circling back to Ethan. The taste of his lips, the way his tongue had stroked over hers, light and teasing, then with an intensity that had left her breathless. In her mind’s eye, they had taken things even further, with her seating herself more fully on his lap, feeling his hardness, his hands wrapped around her so tightly, making their way to her bottom, to lift and grind her against him. The traitorous thoughts continued well into the night, as much as she’d triedto distract herself, to think of something—anything—else. Instead, she’d tossed and turned, seeing every hour on the clock before finally rising at around five to do what she did best—make dough.

Maggie had arrived around seven, and seeing another twenty-four cinnamon buns on their second rise and ready to bake, she had simply shaken her head and sighed heavily, looking at Julia with sympathy etched all over her face.

“Another rough night?” she’d asked, to which Julia had just nodded. There was no point in going into the details of her evening, certainly not about Ethan, and not even about the circumstances that had led her to that point, so a silent agreement would have to suffice.

Maggie never pried, although there had been a time when she’d caught Julia in a poorly concealed attack. She had never said anything afterward even though she’d talked her through it in a way similar to how Ethan had, rubbing her back and tethering her to reality in a way that Julia would be eternally grateful for, but it had changed things slightly between them.

Not negatively, just maybe enough to shift the balance slightly between the two of them. Julia felt as if perhaps it had softened her a bit in Maggie’s eyes.

She’d always wished she could be warm and friendly, kind and outgoing, like Maggie was, but sometimes her nature only allowed for gruffness, coldness. It was never her intent to come across that way, but it felt as though she carried the burden of introversion, and her awkwardness and shyness didn’t quite know how to properly convey warmth. Made her unsure of how to act in a way that was endearing to others rather than off-putting. Although Maggie catching her in such a vulnerable moment had exposed her in a way that was humiliating, it hadalso felt somewhat freeing, because she had shed the mask, even if inadvertently.

And Maggie had accepted it. Had appreciated it. And it had only brought them closer.

It made Julia think about what had happened with Ethan yesterday and what the outcome of that similar situation would be for them.

At the thought of him, she glanced over.

His expression was inscrutable, though there were some small, almost indiscernible things that gave away tiny bits of his inner psyche. Maybe just to her. Maybe because she’d known him so well—still knew him.

He had dark shadows under his eyes, ones that must have mirrored her own. His beard, which had been so perfectly groomed on his arrival just a couple of days ago, now seemed a bit unruly, as though a reflection of his own unraveling mental state. It still surprised her to see him with it after years of being clean-shaven. There was something about it that muddied his classical handsomeness and elevated him to a different realm of rugged good looks in a way that still remained unattainable. The realization wasn’t meant to be complimentary, simply a fact, and it pained her to even think it.

And now, with the sheen of weariness overtaking him—the dark circles, the lines in the creases of his eyes, the slight overgrowth of the beard—he appeared so much more…human.

Even worse, she thought with the resigned inward sigh of a person who had already lived a thousand lives.So much more attractive.

Seemingly unaware of her perusal, he kept pace with the group as they approached the dock. His mouth was set firmly,and he hadn’t spoken, aside from offering general pleasantries and helping plan their day at breakfast. When they’d set off after everyone had eaten, he had fallen into silence.

Julia, usually silent anyway, had felt the urge to fill the space with…something—geographical information, tidbits about the history of the land, Finger Lakes trivia—just so the pressing weight of his silence didn’t feel so heavy.