Page 73 of Never Fall Again
“I...” Cal shifted from one foot to the other.
She had never seen him so off-kilter, and she didn’t like it. “What’s wrong? You’re acting weird.”
Cal made a frustrated sound and then made eye contact. “I told you to let me know if you wanted company. You didn’t text. I don’t want to assume you want me to be here.”
Oh.
Cal’s neck had a bright red flush creeping up it and darkening by the second.
“I thought about texting you. And then I didn’t. I couldn’t quite figure out what to say.”
Cal frowned. “What’s hard about saying ‘I’m on my way’?”
She didn’t have an answer. “I thought I’d text you after I was already here and invite you to join us for lunch.”
Cal slammed his hat back on his head. “You don’t have to say that just because I’m already here.”
“I’m not!”
“It’s fine.”
“What’s wrong with you?” She stepped toward him until therewas no more than a few inches between them. “What do I have to do to prove to you that I want you to be here?”
“You don’t have to prove anything.”
“It certainly seems like I do.”
The entire conversation had taken place in hushed tones and hissed whispers. Now, they stared at each other. Landry didn’t know what Cal saw on her face, but she could guess. She was confused, aggravated, embarrassed, and trying desperately to avoid saying things out loud that she was not ready to say. Or, for that matter, think.
“Are we fighting over whether or not we want to have lunch together?” Cal’s question was laced with humor. The hostility was gone.
I have no idea what we’re fighting about. In fact, I didn’t think we were fighting. I thought we were doing a terrible job of communicating, but I didn’t think we were mad about it.” Landry didn’t like the way the idea of him being mad at her made her ache. She’d tiptoed around a man for far too long. She would never do that again.
“I’m not mad. I’m making a mess of things. I’m sorry. I’m being ridiculous, insecure, and as you put it, weird. Please let me start again.”
Landry took a step back. She had to. If she didn’t, she was going to throw herself into his arms and kiss him. Instead, she gave him her brightest smile and offered the do-over he’d requested. “Cal! You’re here. I’m so glad.”
She must have done something right, because the tension bled out of him, and the smile he gave her was the real one she’d found herself chasing these past few months.
“I’m glad too.” He dipped his head and whispered, “Thank you.” Then he pointed to the basket. “What’s for lunch?”
She sat on the blanket, grateful for the space between them so she could catch her breath, and opened the lid. “We have chicken and beef burritos. Chips, queso, salsa—”
“Is this your famous homemade salsa?” Cal reached for the jar.
“It is.” When had he gotten so close? He was kneeling on the blanket beside her, staring into the basket as she shifted the items around. “We also have brownies—”
“The caramel brownies?”
“Yes. The ones you liked so much that you declared me to be your favorite baker, even though I’ve told you at least ten times that they come from a box and require zero baking skills.”
“I don’t care how you bake them. I just care that you do because they’re awesome. Why mess with perfection?”
She pulled a bottle of water from the basket and handed it to him. “Are you ready to eat? Or we can wait. There’s no rush.”
“Are you crazy? What is this? Some sort of cruel Tex-Mex torture? Are you secretly working for the CIA on new interrogation techniques? Show a man his favorite foods but don’t let him eat them?”
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