can? No, thank you.” He smiled at the thought, but his smile was wistful and a little sad. “They send postcards, and come home in December and stay for a few weeks through the holidays. Last Christmas, they gave me the deed to this house.”
“Hell of a Christmas present.” I raised my eyebrows, and he snorted in response.
“They said it was going to be mine eventually anyway.” His gaze roamed over the pictures on the wall. “I was living in Baltimore when Sean first got sick, then I moved back here and got a substitute teaching job. I’d planned to help out with things for a year or two until he got better. I wasn’t going to stay forever. But then Mr. McDaniels retired, and Willow Creek High needed an English teacher. Then I suddenly became a homeowner . . .” He shrugged. “Things just kind of happened. There’s something comforting about living where you’ve always been. Everyone knows you. You’re part of something.” His eyes lingered on a picture of himself and his brother as teens. “Of course, that also means you’re not allowed to change. I guess I’m going to be Sean’s little brother forever.”
Mitch had said something similar, but before I could say anything about it, Simon’s face cleared, like the sun coming out from behind a cloud. “Come on, your eggs are getting cold.” He dropped a kiss on my shoulder and took my hand. “You promised me a story, remember? It’s your turn.”
I let him lead me back to the kitchen, where he’d laid a second place mat on the table, and between forkfuls of a very good omelet, I filled Simon in on some of the details of April’s accident. Well, not the accident itself, but its aftermath.
“So she doesn’t drive at all?”
“Not since she got out of the hospital. She tried a couple times, but she freezes up when she’s behind the wheel.” I got up from the table to refill my coffee mug. “I mean, I don’t blame her. T-boned at a major intersection? I think I’d see that every time I closed my eyes.” I held up the carafe in invitation, but he shook his head, so I sat back down at the table across from him.
“Anyway, getting back to normal seems to be helping her. She went back to work recently, and her mood improved big-time. Maybe now that she’s driving it’ll be another step. But I’ll feel better when I know she’s made it there okay.” I sipped from my mug and closed my eyes in appreciation. “You make excellent coffee. I’ll be over every morning for this.”
“Please do.” His gaze lingered on mine, and I knew he wasn’t just offering coffee. My smile widened, letting him know I’d be happy to take him up on that offer.
My phone buzzed on the table. April had sent a selfie of herself in her work parking lot, thumbs-up in front of her SUV. Made it! When I put the phone down it was like a weight fell off my shoulders. More importantly a veil had been lifted from my eyes. I replayed the last hour or so in my head and my heart sank. “I’m sorry. I’ve been an asshole.”
He was surprised into a laugh. “What? Since when?”
“Since I didn’t even say good morning.”
“Oh.” He raised his coffee mug at me in salute. “Well, good morning.”
“No. Not like that.” I got up and went to his side of the table, and he scooted his chair back a little so he could turn to me as I did. I ran a hand through his hair—this was a thing I got to do now—and bent to kiss him. Slowly. Softly. Thoroughly. “Good morning,” I said through our kiss, pronouncing the words deliberately.
He smiled against my lips. “Good morning.” He pulled me into his lap until I straddled both him and the kitchen chair. “Much better. I’ll admit I was worried for a minute there.” His fingers stroked slowly up my back, learning each ridge of my spine. “When you jumped out of bed and started throwing on your clothes before I’d even woken up, it was like you’d realized what a mistake you’d made.”
I blinked. “Mistake?”
“You know. Sleeping with the enemy and all that.” His voice was light, almost teasing, but his eyes had this edge to them I didn’t like.
I cupped his cheek in my hand, watching the way his expression softened the more we touched. I wanted to crawl into him,