little wall called friends to keep them at a distance from each other. Why? Why wouldn’t he give the chemistry between them a chance?
His eyes searched hers, and as though he knew the questions she was about to ask, he shook his head, warning her not to.
“Friends,” he said firmly. “That’s all.”
It hurt to hear him say it with such finality, but in the strangest way, there was solace in the fact that he was lying to her. She was positive he wanted her, even though he was denying them both. He wanted her, and she knew it, and she clung to it. It didn’t matter if he called her his friend. His feelings for her ran deeper than friendship. She was certain of it.
He crossed the kitchen and stopped at the sink, bracing his hands on the basin. “Let me take a look at this, okay?”
“Okay, Cain,” she said softly.
She didn’t know why he wouldn’t surrender to his feelings for her, but maybe it was because of their age difference, or because he was returning to the service, or because Woodman had always had a crush on her. Or maybe, as she suspected before, it was because Cain wasn’t sure of how to love someone, how to belong to someone. And suddenly she realized that it didn’t really matter why he needed space between them. He could call them friends all he wanted. He was home for two more weeks, and she planned to figure out why he wouldn’t let her closer, why he was so determined to keep her at arm’s length. And once she did, she’d untangle the riddle of how to love him the way he needed her to, and how to get him to admit he loved her back.
He looked so sorry, so frustrated and filled with yearning, she smiled at him. And into that smile, small though it was, she poured all her love, her desire, her profound hope that words were just semantics and the feelings they shared for each other were so strong, they wouldn’t be denied.
He stared back at her, seemingly overcome.
“It’s okay,” she said gently.
He exhaled a breath on a low hiss.
“I’m glad,” he said.
As much as she would have liked to ogle him for the rest of the afternoon, she needed to think. She needed to figure out what came next for her and Cain. She nodded, gesturing to the stairs. “I’ll, uh . . . I’ll be upstairs. Call if you need me, huh?”
Cain lay down on his back, sliding his head under her sink. “Will do.”
Ginger turned and headed up the stairs, her hand flattened over her pounding heart.
Chapter 11
~ Cain ~
“Promised to take a look at the kitchen sink. At the cottage,” said Klaus, who was sitting on a bench outside the barn on Thursday afternoon. “But I got to wait for Doc Keller to come. Ravenal’s lungs is rumbling. So I thought you go up and take a look for me.”
After running into Ginger in her car on Monday night, Cain had taken a long walk, thinking about nothing but her. In all the years he’d known her, he’d never experienced the sort of cold shoulder she’d given him as she drove up the driveway. Man, he must have hurt her. It was the one thing he’d never, ever wanted, and the reality of it—written all over her face—made him feel like total shit. And while he’d promised himself to stay away from her for Josiah’s sake, he needed to make amends. He needed to find a way to let her know that he was sorry. And banking on the fact that he was living in the barn and she was living in the cottage, he assumed they’d eventually bump into each other. Just . . .
“Cain? The sink?”
. . . not yet.
“Uh, why don’t I wait for the vet?” said Cain, sitting down on the bench beside his father.
Yes, he needed to apologize to her, and yes, this would be a good opportunity, but the thought of her ice-cold eyes made him pause. Waiting a few more days wouldn’t hurt anything, would it?
“I’ll wait for Doc Keller. You go check on Ginger’s sink.”
His father gave him a sidelong look. “You get the sink. I get the vet.”
“Aw, plumbin’ ain’t my—”
“Cain,” said Klaus, his light blue eyes suddenly all-knowing and all-seeing. “She live here. You can’t avoid her für immer.”
Für immer. Forever.
Cain swiped his thumb across his bottom lip. “What do you mean? I ain’t