Page 36 of Thresholds

Patrick

"Remindme again why we're doing this," I said, frowning at the dishes, produce, and chopping blocks cluttering the countertop. I moved some of it out of the way to find a seat at the kitchen island, but that earned me a pointed glare fromAndy.

"I have a system here," she said, waving the spoon she was holding in the direction of themise en placeand me. This was what happened when I spent the morning at the gym with Sam. The goddamn kitchen exploded, or we were opening a small farmers' market. It was anyone's guess. "Please do not interrupt mysystem."

She pivoted, spoon in hand, and dug in the refrigerator. The absolute anarchy around us no longer mattered because the only thing I could see was herass.

Maybe that waswrong.

Maybe I didn't care about right orwrong.

Andy was wearing candy cane knee socks, a loose gray tank top that managed to be far sexier than the slim-fitting ones she often wore, and a tiny scrap of black fabric that she called yoga shorts. I didn't know much about yoga but I knew these things were little more than underwear. I hated those shorts but I loved them more, and they were why I kept nudging the thermostat higher. Top it off with the long, thick mass of curls piled on her head, and I was ready to cancel our Christmas-Eve-meets-Hanukkah party thisevening.

Cancel the whole fuckingthing.

Lock thedoors.

Turn off thephones.

Fuck any doubt of whether she was meant to be mine right out ofher.

"Make yourself useful. Go get the wine," she said, her attention tuned to the contents of thefridge.

Look at me. See what I'm trying to tellyou.

Andy and I, we didn't talk. I mean, we talked about everything. Food, work, news. But we didn't discuss big, emotional things. We didn't need to, not when we could glance at each other and communicate without speaking aword.

That worked for us. We didn't have to process every moment the way Sam and Tiel did, or insult each other all day the way Will and Shannon did, or bicker about everything the way Matt and Lauren did. We made it through with nods and arched eyebrows and smirking smiles. That wasenough.

Except when it wasn'tenough.

We weren't making it through right now. I needed her words. There'd been a few instances when I'd needed them before. After Riley had found us seconds away from christening my desk at the office, all those years ago. When I thought it was over and I'd be forced to live out my days as a crabby curmudgeon who got drunk off the scent of lavender. When she'd been so, so sick with an aggressive case of food poisoning that morphed into a blood infection and her body started shutting down, and the possibility of losing her hung over me like a densefog.

And now, when it seemed we'd drifted far off course. I needed more than her murmurs and small smiles. I needed to know we were still on this journey together, and I needed to know where we weregoing.

"Is there a reason you're strangling the merlot?" Andy asked. I blinked at her from across the kitchen island. "You've been staring at those bottles—and gripping them like you're trying to break them—for a fewminutes."

"No," I replied, scowling at the wine. "Just…thinking."

"Aboutmerlot?"

"About you," I saidhonestly.

Her eyes widened and the mixing spoon in her hand stilled. "Care toelaborate?"

I stared at Andy for a moment, then the bottles, and then back at her. That hair. That fucking hair did it to me every time. Those curls made my fingers itch. I wanted to tug it all loose and dig my fingers through thosestrands.

I wanted that to be enough. I wanted to tell her everything with that one move, and all the moves that would follow. I wanted her to read my mind now, like she always did, and know exactly what I required fromher.

Maybe that would work. My hands in her hair, her body beneath mine, no conversation required. That would work. I could drag her into the bedroom and solve this—no.No. That didn't solve my problems yesterday. Not my biggest problems, ofcourse.

"Perhaps you could finish unpacking the wine while you glare at me," Andy said. "Or do you need to devote all of your energy to theglaring?"

I set the bottles down and freed two more from the box. "Satisfied?" I plunked another two on thecounter.

"Hm," she murmured, turning away from theisland.

"Why are we doing this?" I repeated, grabbing an avocado from the countertop and scowling atit.