My Greatest Joy (Maplewood Falls #2)

Chapter Twenty-One

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

FALLON

DAY 22

My eyes flutter open as Levi spoons me. His breathing is low, and I know he’s still sleeping. I’m not quite ready to get out of bed, so I lie there, enjoying his warmth and comfort. We slept in, and I’m thankful for the extra rest after spending Christmas Eve and Christmas with Levi’s family.

The food was amazing, and just like he’d told me, his mom sent us home with ridiculous amounts of leftovers. I think her cooking might be the only thing I’ll eat the day after. It was the first time I celebrated Christmas since my mom’s accident.

Today is the anniversary of her death.

December 27.

The day my life changed forever.

The world wasn’t as bright once she was gone, and I felt like I was grieving alone. At school, my friends treated me as if I were fragile, but then weeks later, it was like it didn’t happen. Everyone else’s lives seemed to go back to normal, and I was the only one who was still hurting.

Even now, I feel like that sometimes.

I’ve had people tell me that it’s great to have had a mother worth missing, but how is that helpful? It’s not. Some have even told me everything happens for a reason. As a thirty-year-old woman, I still don’t see how my mother dying was meant to happen. It’s a shitty thing to tell a kid. It’s a shitty thing to tell anyone.

I grieve many things, but now that I’ve gotten older, I can’t help but think about my nieces. They’ll never know how amazing their grandmother was. They won’t ever feel her warm hugs or hear her infectious laugh. The kindness my mother gave to every person she ever met was unmatched. If I ever get married, she won’t be there to witness it. If I have kids, she won’t get to hold them. Not having my mom around to celebrate my life experiences feels like a continuous knife to the heart.

Typically, on this day, I drown myself in work. Focusing on keeping my mind and body as busy was always my priority, so I’d be exhausted when I got home and would crash. Not giving myself time to think about it has worked for me over the years. Is compartmentalizing my emotions the healthiest thing to do? Absolutely not.

Once my bladder screams out in protest, I wiggle out of Levi’s hold and go to the bathroom. When I’m done, I look in the mirror at my hair that’s a wild mess on top of my head. That’s when I notice the hickey on my neck.

“Oh my God,” I whisper, moving closer to the mirror. “A hickey?”

I hear low chuckling from the doorway where Levi is standing. My eyes dart to him in the reflection, and I can’t help but notice how his joggers hang low on his hips.

I move my neck to the side, pointing at the mark on my neck. “Look what you did!”

Levi moves forward and stands behind me to get a closer view. Dipping down, he licks my neck and gently sucks. “I like marking you as mine.”

I turn until I face him, then look up into his eyes. “I have to go back to work next week, sir. I can’t have deep purple bruises on my neck like a teenager.”

Leaning in, he slides his mouth across my lips, leaving me nearly breathless. “Didn’t hear you complaining last night.”

He breaks his hold on me.

“I’m going to kick your ass,” I warn, meeting his gaze in the mirror.

“Do your best, sweetheart.”

Shaking my head, I walk out of the bathroom and go downstairs for coffee. Levi lets Dasher out and sits at the breakfast nook.

“Can I cook for you?” I ask.

His eyes widen with uncertainty. “S-sure.”

“If I fuck it up, we can trash it,” I say, then pull eggs, spinach, ham, and cheese from the fridge.

“I’d still eat it with a smile,” he quips.

“Even if it was burnt and as hard as a rock?”

He ponders my question for a moment. “No. If Dasher won’t eat it, then neither will I.”

With a snicker, I pour some oil into the pan. It’s nearly impossible to mess up an omelet, but I have before. This time, I take my time and focus on the eggs, then slide them on a plate when I think it’s good.

Grabbing a fork, I set it down in front of Levi, and eagerly wait.

He cuts into it, pops a bite into his mouth, and hums. “If I had known you cooked this great, I’d have put you on breakfast duty weeks ago.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“I swear,” he says as I turn and make mine. By the time I join him, he’s finished eating, but he keeps me company.

“So what do you have planned today?” he asks.

“Nothing much. I want to try to work for a few hours and call my sister at some point.”

“And this evening?”

I take another bite. “You’re the only thing on my to-do list later.”

“Good to hear.” He grins. “Well, I’m going to let you get some work done. I need to run to town. Do you need anything?”

I shake my head. “Not that I can think of.”

Levi stands, pressing his lips against my neck. “Leave the dishes in the sink. I’ll clean up when I get back.”

“Thank you,” I tell him as he goes upstairs to change.

After I’m done eating and Levi has left, I grab my laptop and log in to my email. Excitement rushes through me when I see several replies from my boss. I read his messages as fast as I can and let out a happy yelp.

I think this might be your best work to date. It’s intriguing. I’m looking forward to reading more.

The pride I feel has me reeling. I check the message from the senior editor and look at all the suggestions she made for me on the first few pages. I’ll have to rework some things, but I know it’s going to be so much stronger. For the first time since I started at the magazine, I’m excited for my work to be published. If the right people read it, my career could skyrocket.

I think about where the rest of the story is going and make a few notes, then decide to let those ideas marinate for a little while. Once I check the time and notice it’s not too early in Seattle, I decide to FaceTime my sister.

She answers on the third ring and grins wide.

“Look at you!” Taryn says, then she puts her face closer to the screen. “Wait, is that a hickey on your neck?”

I lift my shirt, trying to cover it, completely forgetting about it. “Shit.”

“It is! Oh my God. Spill the tea, girl.”

A big smile fills my face. “He’s amazing.”

She squeals. “Like you want to have a million babies with him and move to Vermont amazing?”

“Uh. Slow down. Amazing like I’m happy, and right now, I’m seeing where this goes because we haven’t talked about what will happen when I leave.”

She makes a face. “What? Why?”

“We both know I’m leaving and are enjoying each other while we can. That way there’s no pressure. Doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world.”

“Did you fall and hit your head or something?” Taryn asks.

“No, but I don’t want to get my heart broken,” I admit, sucking in a deep breath.

“Well, I support whatever you decide,” Taryn tells me. “My moms group has still been asking about your relationship, though. Might have to give them a juicy update.”

“Gah, Taryn. Why don’t you write a book about it and use me as character inspiration?”

Her eyes light up with excitement. “That is the perfect idea. And apparently writing runs in the family.”

I snicker. “I’ll be your number one fan.”

“You better,” she tells me. “Because I’m gonna tell everyone it’s my little sister’s love story.”

I laugh out loud. “You better not.”

“I can do whatever I want,” she teases, and we both smile wide. “Thanks for calling me today.”

“Always, sis. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, Fallon. Please take care of yourself,” she says.

“I always do,” I tell her. The back door opens, and Dasher gets up and runs toward Levi, who’s carrying at least ten bags of groceries. “I should probably let you go,” I tell her.

“Okey dokey! Have fun banging the hot lumberjack,” she says, and I try to turn her down, but Levi bursts into laughter.

“Bye,” I say between gritted teeth and end the call.

“Shoulda let me chat with her,” he says.

“Oh, God no. I’m not stupid. My sister would embarrass the fire out of me.”

“Damn, missing my opportunity.” He snaps his fingers.

“Need any help?” I ask, shutting my laptop, knowing I’m done for the day. I walk into the kitchen and see all the ingredients he’s taking out of the bags.

“What are we baking?” I ask.

“Gingersnaps,” he explains, and I search his eyes.

“But it’s a secret.”

“Yes. But these will be slightly different because I’m making them gluten-free, so technically not the same. After we make them, though, you’re sworn to secrecy for life.”

“So I guess that means no publishing it in the magazine?”

Levi growls. “Woman.”

“I’m kidding. I’d never do that. I’m more scared of your mom being disappointed than any punishment you’d give me.”

He lifts his brows. “As you should be.”

I look at the coconut flour, ginger, cinnamon, salt, and baking soda. Then there’s this weird jar of something that doesn’t have a label.

“What’s this?” I ask, picking it up, studying how thick it is.

“That’s the secret ingredient.” He takes it from my hand and sets it down on the counter. “Don’t drop it.”

“Can we make these now?” I ask, more intrigued than anything. But also, I love those cookies.

“Are you done for the day?” he asks as he grabs some butter and eggs from the fridge.

“I am now,” I say, washing my hands after Levi. “Teach me your ways.”

Levi grabs a mixing bowl and spoon and hands it to me. “Ready?”

I enthusiastically nod, then he picks up the coconut flour and pours it in the bowl.

“You’re not measuring anything?” I look at him like he’s lost his mind.

“Why would I?” He snickers, adding more baking soda, cinnamon, and salt.

I scoff. “Because I’m supposed to be learning!”

He shakes his head and wraps his hand around my waist, pulling me into him. “You learn by doing, naughty girl.”

“You’re evil,” I say as he slides his tongue into my mouth.

When we break apart, he grabs another bowl.

“Mix the powders,” he directs, turning on the oven. “You know what the real secret of these cookies is? The reason Finn can never get them right?”

I meet his eyes.

“It’s because he’s trying to imitate something that comes straight from the heart. The recipe lives up here.” He points at his head. “And here.” Then his heart.

“You can’t replicate that,” I whisper.

“No,” Levi confirms as he whips butter and cracks eggs.

Once we’ve mixed the dry and wet ingredients, we roll the dough in our hands, then place them a few inches apart on the tray. Levi puts them in the oven and sets a timer for eight minutes.

“You know what that means?”

I shake my head.

“I have eight minutes to make you come,” he tells me, scooping me up into his arms, and carries me to the living room. Dasher barely lifts his head from where he’s lying in front of the fire.

Levi sets me down on the couch and slides my pajama bottoms and panties down. He spreads my legs, dives headfirst between my thighs, and I writhe against him. He licks, sucks, and finger fucks me into oblivion as I tug on his hair.

“Shit,” I whisper-hiss as he curves his finger, hitting my G-spot. As my eyes slam shut, the orgasm builds. I moan out his name as he flicks his tongue against my clit, and soon, I’m spilling over. He laps up my arousal, then slides his mouth down my thighs, kissing them too. Before he stands, the timer on the oven dings.

“Cookies are done,” he says, smirking.

I catch my breath, then meet him in the kitchen. When he pulls the tray out, he slams it against the oven, and I jump.

“Why’d you do that?”

“Makes the middle of the dough fall flat and makes all the cracks happen on top.”

I look at them with amazement. “When can we eat them?”

“Gotta let them cool, so about fifteen minutes?”

I bite the corner of my lip.

“Perfect.” I grab his hand and lead us back to the couch, wanting to return the favor. “That’s all the time I need.”