Page 72 of Riding the Curve

My gaze wanders from the basket to the woman whose fingers are still gripping the other side. Her eyes make a slow perusal. Traveling from my toes to my chest. She stops there, lingering long enough to make my skin grow hot.

Only then do I remember that I’m missing my shirt.

The one I was supposed to put on before she arrived.

Oops.

She’s still glued in place as a smirk begins to form on my face. Then, as if something snaps inside of her, hazel eyes quickly flash up to mine. “Well, are you going to let me in, or just stand there blocking the path with all your naked glory?”

“You think it’s glorious?” I tease, smiling as she huffs and pushes past me.

With a stupid grin plastered on my face, I follow behind her. When I set down the basket, I notice a very familiar utensil sticking out of it.

Wrapping the ladle in my palm, I hold it up in the air. “Ah, so we meet again.”

Henley rolls her eyes and snatches it from me. I’m rewarded with a hint of smile lifting the side of her lips. She’s trying to hide it, but I always catch it.

We begin unloading the produce and I find more hidden utensils that I know didn’t come from our small supply in the cabins.

“Are you still the same little thief that you were growing up?” I laugh, gesturing to them all spread out on the tiny counter. It earns me a punch in my arm. “Seriously, what’s the story behind all of these? Why did they need to travel home with you?”

She pauses unwrapping the loaf of bread in her hand and picks up the whisk. “Each of them has a special reason behind them. Like this whisk.” She holds it up between us. “My mom gave me this after graduation. It’s the same one we would use all the time at home. Also, the one she used to playfully smack me and Ryleigh with whenever we got mouthy in the kitchen.”

A gentle laugh tumbles out of her at the memory. I smile alongside her, because I definitely remember a time or two I watched Ryleigh get swatted with this very whisk. That boy could never keep his mouth shut.

“I’ve used hundreds over the years, but hers just always seems to make the job go a million times faster.”

I grin as she hands it to me and then reaches over to grab the wooden spatula with little flowers carved into the handle. “And this is from Harper. She sent it to me one month when I was incredibly lonely at culinary school. She said she wanted to ship me a little piece of home. It’s always been the best for putting icing on cinnamon rolls.”

She places it back down, picking up the ladle slowly.

“And this—” She swallows deeply. “This was from your Mama.”

Henley’s fingers smooth reverently across the wood, and my heart swells. I set the whisk aside and slide my palm around her waist. As I gently brush my thumb against her hip, she speaks softly.

“She gave it to me as a reminder.”

“Reminder of what?” I ask.

“Autumn told me she wanted me to remember I’m like this wood. Tough, yet flexible. Durable and dependable. With the strength to carry the weight of the world and absorb the heaviness of it when needed. But also, it’s okay to crack sometimes under the pressure. It’s okay to make mistakes. Because like every piece of wood, each of us has little imperfections. That’s what makes us beautiful. What demonstrates the growth that we’ve made. Shows our resilience. Each one only making us stronger. It’s what makes us human.”

Turning her around to face me, I gently release the wooden ladle from her hand. Placing her arms around my waist, I nudge her lower back until she’s pressed against my chest. “She always knew exactly what to say when we needed it most, didn’t she?”

Nuzzling her head against my chest, I feel a gentle nod.

Time fades as we stand in the tiny kitchen, wrapped in each other’s arms. She fits perfectly. Like she’s meant to have been right here all along. Each time we embrace, it’s getting harder for me to release her.

I don’t ever want to let her go.

CHAPTER 28

Henley

Enveloped by his warmth, I burrow in a little further. All I want to do is surrender myself completely.

So much has happened today, and the tension between us is enough to burn this cabin to ash. Though my heart—and my lady bits— are begging me to just give in, I need to give myself a little breath. I have a feeling I’ll know exactly when that moment hits. For now, I’m just going to relish in finally being in Emerson Lane’s orbit.

My stomach grumbles loudly between us, and I’m thankful for the distraction. His chest bounces with mirth against my head. “Let’s make some dinner, Trouble.”