of the house heading for the kitchen. I put the empty bottle in the recycling bin and grabbed another.
Stay reached around me and took a chilled bottle of water off the shelf and held it in the crook of his arm. Then, before I could say otherwise, he took the apple cider out of my hands and opened it for me.
“I can do that myself,” I said.
“I’m certain you can do all sorts of things for yourself.” The way he said it sounded sexually provocative.
I glanced up at him and paused. Shaking my head, I thought, I must have sex on the brain, because he seems like the perfect gentlemen.
“Shall we ?” he said, extending his hand in front of him, beckoning me to go first.
We exited the front door and walked side by side down the street. I didn’t know what to say , so I took another sip of the cider. My stomach roiled for a second and then it quickly past.
“Why don’t we catch some dinner before the concert?” Stay asked as our arms swung in unison.
I almo st expected him to grab my hand, which was a crazy. Mason standing me up clearly had muddled my sense of reason.
“ I can pick you up from the boutique at five-thirty and that should give us plenty of time.”
“Well, I— oh!” I yelled, bending over at the waist.
He took the cider out of my hand and laid his large, warm palm on my back. “Are you okay?”
I shook my head, wishing I stood anywhere other than the side of the road getting ready to wretch in the bushes with an audience.
Stay set the cider and water bottle down on the street, and then gently lifted my hair off my shoulders, holding it in his right hand. With his other, he made soft circle on my back.
Tears poured down my cheeks and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. I hiccupped once just before I divested myself of the contents in my stomach. When I stood and stepped back, I wiped my mouth on the back of my hand and said, “I’m not drunk.”
Stay pulled a blue , woven handkerchief out of his back pocket and handed it to me. “I know you’re not. It must be the lunch you had with Jacqs. I wonder how Sam’s feeling.”
I stared up at him and it was almost like seeing him for the first time. Who was the man standing in front of me? I knew nothing of importance about him. Who carries a handkerchief anymore? “Um, thank you. I’m sorry you had to see that.”
“Not at all,” he said, still holding my hair back. He pressed the cold water bottle against my neck.
I sighed and wiped my eyes and then my mouth with the cloth. Whether it was the food poising, or Stay being nice to me, or Mason standing me up, I felt at the very edge of a major breakdown. Too shaky to drive, I tried to mull over my choices. My head hurt and my stomach roiled again.
“Are you feeling any better? Do you want some water?”
“I’m scared if I ... oh shit.” I gulped trying to force down the emotions threatening to erupt.
“Do you need to throw up again?”
I shook my head. His look held such compassion that my tears mutinied against my will. I only ever let myself fall apart when alone, or in my father’s arms when I was a little girl. I felt so exposed and embarrassed.
Stay took the cap off the water bottle and handed it to me and then walked me back toward the house.
I sipped the water slowly as I continued to cry, using the hanky to wipe my tears.
“I’ll drive you home. Where ’s your bag?”
“No,” I said, my lower lip trembling. “I don’t cry in front of people.”
“I won’t tell a soul.” He smiled.
His expression triggered another wave of grief, causing my shoulders to shake as I tried to keep the sound in. Instead funny noises came out and I started laughing through the tears.
“It’s going to be okay , Lane.” He helped me over to his blue Prius and we stood by the passenger door.
I took a few deep breaths and said, “I have to be at the store early tomorrow and I’m worried I might—”
“We can worry about the logistics in the morning and I’ll grab a
Stay reached around me and took a chilled bottle of water off the shelf and held it in the crook of his arm. Then, before I could say otherwise, he took the apple cider out of my hands and opened it for me.
“I can do that myself,” I said.
“I’m certain you can do all sorts of things for yourself.” The way he said it sounded sexually provocative.
I glanced up at him and paused. Shaking my head, I thought, I must have sex on the brain, because he seems like the perfect gentlemen.
“Shall we ?” he said, extending his hand in front of him, beckoning me to go first.
We exited the front door and walked side by side down the street. I didn’t know what to say , so I took another sip of the cider. My stomach roiled for a second and then it quickly past.
“Why don’t we catch some dinner before the concert?” Stay asked as our arms swung in unison.
I almo st expected him to grab my hand, which was a crazy. Mason standing me up clearly had muddled my sense of reason.
“ I can pick you up from the boutique at five-thirty and that should give us plenty of time.”
“Well, I— oh!” I yelled, bending over at the waist.
He took the cider out of my hand and laid his large, warm palm on my back. “Are you okay?”
I shook my head, wishing I stood anywhere other than the side of the road getting ready to wretch in the bushes with an audience.
Stay set the cider and water bottle down on the street, and then gently lifted my hair off my shoulders, holding it in his right hand. With his other, he made soft circle on my back.
Tears poured down my cheeks and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. I hiccupped once just before I divested myself of the contents in my stomach. When I stood and stepped back, I wiped my mouth on the back of my hand and said, “I’m not drunk.”
Stay pulled a blue , woven handkerchief out of his back pocket and handed it to me. “I know you’re not. It must be the lunch you had with Jacqs. I wonder how Sam’s feeling.”
I stared up at him and it was almost like seeing him for the first time. Who was the man standing in front of me? I knew nothing of importance about him. Who carries a handkerchief anymore? “Um, thank you. I’m sorry you had to see that.”
“Not at all,” he said, still holding my hair back. He pressed the cold water bottle against my neck.
I sighed and wiped my eyes and then my mouth with the cloth. Whether it was the food poising, or Stay being nice to me, or Mason standing me up, I felt at the very edge of a major breakdown. Too shaky to drive, I tried to mull over my choices. My head hurt and my stomach roiled again.
“Are you feeling any better? Do you want some water?”
“I’m scared if I ... oh shit.” I gulped trying to force down the emotions threatening to erupt.
“Do you need to throw up again?”
I shook my head. His look held such compassion that my tears mutinied against my will. I only ever let myself fall apart when alone, or in my father’s arms when I was a little girl. I felt so exposed and embarrassed.
Stay took the cap off the water bottle and handed it to me and then walked me back toward the house.
I sipped the water slowly as I continued to cry, using the hanky to wipe my tears.
“I’ll drive you home. Where ’s your bag?”
“No,” I said, my lower lip trembling. “I don’t cry in front of people.”
“I won’t tell a soul.” He smiled.
His expression triggered another wave of grief, causing my shoulders to shake as I tried to keep the sound in. Instead funny noises came out and I started laughing through the tears.
“It’s going to be okay , Lane.” He helped me over to his blue Prius and we stood by the passenger door.
I took a few deep breaths and said, “I have to be at the store early tomorrow and I’m worried I might—”
“We can worry about the logistics in the morning and I’ll grab a
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