Page 33 of Against All Odds (Ember Falls #3)

“Are you?” Everett looks around at the absolute mess of the kitchen and shakes his head. “I think the cake made you.”

“Well, carrot cake is very labor intensive.”

He shakes his head again. “Mom? You let her destroy the house?”

Mrs. Finnegan laughs. “I guess I did. Come and help us clean up.”

He pulls off his coat, tosses it over the back of the chair, and enters the kitchen. “I leave for two hours and come back to a complete disaster,” he says in mock affront.

“Do you want to eat some cake?” I ask.

“What kind of a question is that?”

“Then you have to help clean. The cook isn’t supposed to be the one doing all the work,” I inform him.

He laughs. “Then I guess I better get to work, since this mess will take hours to finish.”

The three of us work together, and about halfway through, Mrs. Finnegan slows down and clutches her head.

“Mom, are you getting a headache?” Everett asks, clearly noticing it as well.

She nods. “I’m sorry.”

“Here, sit.” I pull a chair out for her.

Everett walks over and grabs a lockbox from the top of the refrigerator. He opens it and gives her some medication.

“It’s going to be bad,” she warns him. “I want to rest.”

“Okay, let’s get you home then.”

“I’ll grab her things,” I say quickly.

The three of us walk over to her apartment. “Not to bed yet, Everett. Not yet.”

He nods. “Okay.”

We head into the living room and it’s such a sweet moment, I could cry. He helps her into the recliner, drapes a blanket over her, lowers the lights, and then kisses her forehead.

She squeezes his hand and then looks to me. “Thank you, Violet. I can’t wait to eat some cake.”

I go to her and kiss her cheek. “Thank you for teaching me how to knit. Well, kind of. I had a great night.”

Her head falls back against the chair. “I did too, dear.”

“Let me just get her settled, and I’ll come back to the house.”

“Okay.”

I walk back and go right to the disaster area that is the kitchen. There’s flour, sugar, and carrot peels all over. I swear it wasn’t this bad as we were doing it.

I’m picking up the peels when I hear his back door close and his footsteps as he approaches.

Slowly, I rise, trying hard to stop the erratic beating of my heart at being alone with him again.

“Thank you,” he says as he stands across from me.

“I had an amazing night. Did everything go okay with the animals?”

He sighs heavily. “It should be okay. I’ll know more tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry tonight was hard.”

Everett shrugs. “It’s all part of the job. How was tonight with Mom?”

Tonight was everything I didn’t know I needed.

I was able to relax and not think about my worries for a little while. Baking with his mother healed a part of me that felt broken. She reminded me of when I was a little girl and was learning new things with my granny.

“It was perfect,” I tell him.

He looks at the kitchen and laughs. “I think she had too much fun.”

“Is she going to be okay?”

“Yeah, her medicine will kick in, and she’ll be fine. She doesn’t get headaches as frequently anymore, and I think we caught this one early.” Everett walks toward me. “Let me help.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

“Okay.”

I start to wipe the counter, where there is probably enough flour to make another cake, so I focus, but then I feel Everett behind me, his warm body brushing against my back. “You missed a spot.”

I clear my throat as I feel the loss of his heat. “Thanks.” I wipe the counter a little harder and then move to the other one.

Once that’s cleaned up, I go to the mountain of dishes in the sink. As I start to wash, I do my absolute best not to notice where he is, but he’s making it incredibly hard by occasionally grazing my arm or bumping into me lightly.

As I’m elbow deep in the soapy water, he comes up behind me, his chest against my back, and reaches his arm in front of me. I gasp softly when I feel his cheek against my neck.

“Sorry, I need the paper towels.” His gravelly voice sends a shiver down my spine.

My heart is pounding as I force myself to breathe. “It’s fine.”

Although it’s not. I’m burning up and it isn’t from the hot water.

I want him.

I want his arms around me. I want to feel his scruff against my neck and everywhere else.

“Is it?” he asks, still standing behind me, both arms now caging me in.

The air in the room is charged—one spark and we could explode, which might happen anyway.

The question feels loaded. As though he’s not talking about the paper towels or the mess, but about this moment. I turn my head, looking at him from over my shoulder. The heat in his eyes confirms that we are not talking about anything else except each other.

“Everett . . .”

His eyes close, and he runs his nose along my neck. “Hmm.”

“I want ...” I stop. Not able to say the words. To kiss me. To take me. To claim me because dear God, I’ve never been anyone else’s the way I am his.

That staying away from him is too much. It’s impossible and I’m so tired of fighting.

His lip is against my ear, and the heat of his breath causes me to shiver. “I know what you want. Tell me, Violet, and I’ll give it to you.”

I can’t say it. I gasp, my fingers gripping the edge of the sink. “Please,” I beg.

“Do you want me to kiss you?”

I shut the water off and turn to face him, my desire winning out over my common sense. “Yes.”