Falling For You (Honey Leaf Lodge #1)

Chapter Eight

Violet

I sat at my laptop to upload some of the images from all the meals I’d cooked recently. I’d made my mashed potatoes look extremely scrumptious and the chicken pot pie golden and buttery.

Now, I found myself in a predicament. I had to conjure up something witty and inviting to draw visitors to my blog and social media.

My mouth puckered in annoyance. If I couldn’t write something fun to get people to make my recipes, how was I supposed to beg them to bid on me?

The thought crept up on me all afternoon. How did my siblings tell Millie no and live to tell about it?

Millie was tricky and determined, and the only thing I had managed to do was figure out which costume to wear to disguise myself.

I took in a deep breath and inhaled the incredible aromas from the casserole I shoved in the oven before I climbed into the shower. There was nothing like a good casserole that said Welcome to Wisconsin, and I'd made plenty of them since I returned. This one happened to be a little more daring than some. A Reuben casserole, complete with corned beef, sauerkraut, Swiss cheese, and Rye bread for the topping.

Headlights shined through the kitchen window and bounced off my laptop, creating a glare across my screen.

And it hit me.

Owen was taking me out tonight, and it had completely slipped my mind.

I looked down at my flannel pajamas with hot pink llamas on them and squeezed my eyes shut.

“No. No. No.” I shook my head and shut my laptop. “This can’t be happening.”

Tapping the top of my messy bun, I looked out the window and saw him making his way around to the front door.

There.

Was.

No.

Time.

Why wouldn’t the day end this way? I’d already been signed up for an auction and ignored by my elderly neighbors while pounding on their door.

Three, two, one…

Knock. Knock.

My initial shock turned into a frantic rush. I had no time to waste.

I opened the door and smiled like this happened every night.

His eyes shot down my flannel jam jams, and a huge grin spread across his face.

“Llama pajamas?” His brows quirked. “For me?”

“Stick around, and I might just get some zebra ones soon.”

Owen’s smile only grew. “Huh?”

“We just rescued a zebra, and I like to commemorate each animal with a set of pajamas.”

He nodded, still smiling. “Nice. So, does this mean we’re staying in, or did you forget?”

I chuckled and shrugged. “Which would make me sound the least like an awful person?”

Owen sniffed the air and glanced over my shoulders. “You’re cooking something?”

My shoulders sank as I laughed, shaking my head. “Okay. I forgot and slammed together a casserole from some leftovers I had.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but it smells…” His eyes stayed on mine.

“Strong?”

He pointed at me. “Yes, that would be the word, or at least one word for it.”

I chuckled and rolled my eyes. “Do you like Reuben sandwiches?”

“I do, actually.”

“Then do I have the casserole for you.”

His grin only widened. “I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.”

“What? Does it sound that bad?”

He kicked the toe of his boot on the outdoor rug and brought his gaze to mine. “It doesn’t sound that great.”

“Then fine. You can just sit at the table while I eat it and the flavors wash over me.”

He shook his head. “No way. We’re in this together. Have you made it before?”

I grimaced and waved him inside. “No. I wouldn’t dare put it on my blog, either.”

Shutting the door behind him, I turned around and glimpsed Owen, taking in my space.

“If you’re trying to psychoanalyze me by my selection in décor, you’ll know my parents very well. I haven’t touched a thing since I don’t plan on staying here long.”

“They did a great job with these cabins.”

I nodded in agreement as he glanced at my laptop.

“I was just trying to come up with some blog posts for the photos I took of this week’s menu.”

He followed me through the few steps to get to the sitting area. “That has to come pretty easily to you.”

I spun around and groaned as I sat on the couch.

He sat next to me and laughed. “Or not.”

“I am the absolute worst when it comes to trying to string some words together about my food.”

The oven dinged, and I sprang off the couch. “You ready for some slop?”

He chuckled and stood, shoving his fingers through his hair. “I’m not sure that’s the best way to present it.”

I grinned and opened a drawer to get a potholder out. “See my problem?”

Owen walked into the kitchen and shook his head. “It can’t be that bad. Should I set the table?”

“Would you mind? Silverware is in that caddy in the corner on the counter, and napkins are in that drawer at the end.”

He nodded, following my directions. “And plates?”

“Right behind you.” I set the casserole on top of the stove, bubbling cheese nearly oozing over the dish, hoping it tasted like a Reuben sandwich.

“There are two things I miss about leaving Chicago.”

“Oh, yeah? What are those?” He looked genuinely curious.

“Reuben sandwiches and Italian beef, but where I went, we just called it beef.”

“Ah, yeah.” He nodded as he put the plates on the table where my laptop sat.

“You’ve had the Italian beef?” I asked, surprised.

“Who hasn’t?” Owen smiled, setting the table.

“Most of my family. They think I’m crazy, but I could eat both sandwiches daily.”

He nodded. “Whenever I’m in Chicago, I make sure to grab the beef for sure. I like Reubens, too.”

“Well, here’s hoping this somewhat resembles a Reuben.”

Owen grimaced, and I chuckled.

“Here’s hoping.” His eyes widened.

I tossed the potholder at him, and he caught it.

To see this side of him was refreshing.

I looked down at the casserole. “Impressive. Can I have the potholder back?”

He walked over with the potholder, glanced at the food, and smiled. “It actually looks really good. The cheese is all bubbly, and the rye is all toasty under there.”

“You’re just saying that.” I chuckled. “And it’s okay. It might look like a hot mess, but the lady online swore by the recipe.”

“Well, the lady online can’t be wrong.”

He stood right behind me, and I felt electricity slide through my body each time he let out a breath. It had to be in my imagination. Bodies didn’t exactly let off electricity, but I swore the air between us could crackle at any second.

I slid potholders on my hands, walked the casserole dish over to the table, and put it in the center before taking my laptop off the table so it didn’t get ruined.

“Did you want anything besides water for a drink? I have some beers left over from Liam and Beck. And my brother’s hard cider. He makes it every fall. He says his recipe is nearly perfect.”

“Water is fine, but I look forward to trying the cider sometime.”

I nodded, walked to the cabinets, and filled our glasses with filtered water.

“Who’s Beck?”

“Oh, that’s right. You’ve only met Liam.” I smiled and sat down. “He’s my other brother.”

He cocked his head slightly. “How many do you have?”

“I have two brothers and two sisters.”

Owen nodded slowly as if he were letting that sink in. I sliced into the casserole and glanced at him as he lifted his plate.

“Here we go. I’ll shovel some of this crap on your plate.”

Owen cracked up and shook his head. “Yeah, we might want to work on your lingo if you’re trying to sell your recipes. Shoveling crap and slop don’t really scream , eat me .”

“Oh, I’m not taking credit for this bad boy.”

His eyes caught mine, and his smile only deepened. “Do all of your siblings work here at the lodge?”

“Yup. They all do.” I scooped some Reuben onto his plate, and he set it down. “I’m the only one who left for a long period. We all went to college, but I was the kid who never wanted to return. Fifi didn’t return until recently, but her life imploded, so…”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

I nodded. “She certainly didn’t deserve it.”

“People rarely do.” He took a bite, and surprise washed over his features.

“Not so bad or…?” I watched with worry.

His lip curled, and he nodded. “It’s actually incredible.”

I took a bite and was pleasantly surprised. “Not quite like the sandwich, but still pretty darn good.”

“Really good.”

“Listen, I’m so sorry about forgetting about our plans tonight. I got all wrapped in my thoughts from the day, and the next thing I knew, headlights were blinding me.” I shrugged. “I guess I’m just not used to people asking me out. I don’t usually have to remember things like that.”

He took another bite and nodded, bringing his gaze to mine. “What kind of thoughts were spinning through your head?”

I twisted my mouth into an awkward pout full of casserole and waited until I finished as I pointed my fork at him.

“I tried to chat with Vern, but he wouldn’t answer his door, nor would his wife.”

My answer completely caught him off guard. I could see the smile slide right off his mouth.

“And I got signed up for some auction,” I rattled on.

A smile returned to his lips, and he nodded. “Never a dull moment.”

“Nope. Not around here. And don’t think I’ve given up trying to snoop out some answers before you get around to telling me things. I will find out.”

A faraway look floated across his gaze as he watched me before dipping his eyes back down to the plate.

“You okay?” I asked him. “Did I say something?”

Owen blinked, snapping out of his thoughts, and forced a smile in my direction. “Yeah. Sorry. Just work stuff that’s haunting me.”

I raised a brow. “You seem like you’re used to dealing with work things as much as you proclaim to do it.”

He smiled and glanced over my shoulders toward the kitchen. “No, I’m pretty used to theworkload. It’s just recently, I’ve been having some doubts. I’m usually pretty sure about things, but I’m not feeling that level of security at the moment.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” I nodded. “I know how that can be.”

His eyes narrowed on me. “You do?”

“Of course. Uncertainties in life are always bound to creep up now and again. We aren’t robots.”

He laughed and shook his head. “It would be easier if we were, though.”

I cocked my head slightly and caught his gaze with mine. “Do you truly believe that?”

He took another bite of food as if to buy some time before answering.

To me, it was a light conversation with an easy answer.

Who would want to be a robot? I certainly wouldn’t.

“I’m not good with emotions,” he said flatly. “So, from that point of view, it would probably be better if I were a robot.”

“I’m pretty sure you could hurt a robot’s feelings too.”

“You mean you , as in me , or in a hypothetical sense?”

I snickered and nodded. “Both.”

He smirked, and I couldn’t help but notice the fine lines surfacing along his cheekbones. It made him even more attractive somehow.

“You don’t actually strike me as someone who is without emotion.”

Surprise sprang into his gaze. “Really? How so?”

“You felt guilty for being such a salty curmudgeon when we first met,” I pointed out.

“I didn’t think I was that bad.”

“Oh, you were,” I teased. “But you tried to smooth things over and brought me flowers. I don’t think a sociopath would do that.”

“Whoa. Wait a minute.” He laughed, bringing his hands into the air. “I didn’t say I was a psychopath.”

I laughed and shook my head. “I didn’t either. I said a sociopath.”

“Tomato, tomahto.” He chuckled, running his fingers along the day’s stubble on his chin.

“Well, what else would we call it?” My brows lifted. “You know, a person without empathy or emotions.”

“I guess, I mean…”

I snickered a little more. “I was saying you weren’t one, anyway.”

“Well, thanks for that. Appreciate it.”

I took a sip of water between laughs. “How did we get here again?”

“I haven’t the foggiest.” He finished the casserole on his plate. “But I can’t wait to see where it goes.”