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“You’re not getting anything .”
“Can I just put this out there bluntly,” he began and didn’t hesitate, waiting.
“If we are going to try this out, try being married, becoming friends, or existing together for ninety days – it’s going to have to start with one of us trusting the other.
You don’t have to trust me yet, but I am trusting you . ”
“What does that mean?”
“You could be a serial killer or rapist too, you know,” he replied pointedly – and heard her nervous laugh of surprise.
“What? It could happen. I could be sleeping, minding my own business when you come crawling into my bed because you want me…” he continued, relishing the fact that he made her laugh, which was ten times better than this panicked silence.
“What if you are giving me this whole innocent act because you fully intend to have your way with me the moment my back is turned? Maybe I’m the one in danger from you? ”
And she laughed again – harder – and met his eyes.
“You’re safe,” she replied, chuckling.
“I don’t know,” he drew out in mock fear. “Now that I’m thinking about it, the awful things you could do the moment my guard is down…?”
“I won’t.”
“Are you sure?”
“Oh yes.”
“Do you like enchiladas?” he asked, changing the subjec t. “Maybe I could try to make my mom’s enchiladas for dinner some evening and treat you. Mom puts all sorts of cheese on top and on the inside…”
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to talk to my wife for the next ninety days so you can get to know me better,” he offered without hesitation. “We’re in this together for a brief span of time, so let’s make the best of it.”
She nodded and then looked at him.
“I love enchiladas,” she whispered quietly, not looking away. “I could make a simple cake for dessert. I remember my aunt used to put fruit in a pan and pour a cake batter over the top. It was my favorite.”
“That sounds like an amazing evening together as friends – doesn’t it?”
And Ashley nodded – and removed the keys from the ignition.
“Come on,” she said quietly, opening the truck door, indicating that she was heading into the house. He quickly followed without hesitating. It had been a long, stressful day, and he was truthfully exhausted. The faster he could get some sleep, the better.
They both needed a chance – and time.
Following her inside, he hesitated, and fought back a smile. Her home was much like Ashley. As he stepped inside, it was not what he expected and everything he could have hoped for – which surprised him. She called it ‘not much’ or a ‘cabin’… and it was, but it was more than that too.
Walking into the entryway, he smelled vanilla. The small house had a drop ceiling, a potbelly stove in the corner for those cold winter nights, and a couch that looked much too big for the space – and hesitated. It was a sofa bed and probably his .
“It’s not big, but it’s paid off,” she volunteered, hanging her purse on a hook in the short hallway. “The bathroom is in here. This is the basement door, and this is my room - don’t come in here. Here’s the linen closet, if you need anything and in here is the kitchen.”
He nodded silently, taking in everything.
It was cozy, quaint, and almost too small, but that was comforting in an unexpected way.
Peering into the kitchen, he smiled. It was a large open kitchen that was probably the same size as the living room which wasn’t that big to begin with.
A counter ran the length of one wall and continued on the adjoining wall, ending where the refrigerator was.
A simple sink with a window over it, a two-burner stove that seemed to fit in the smaller space, and a back door that had glass panes along the top and solid on the bottom.
“Your home is lovely,” he offered, setting down his bag awkwardly as she moved around the house, gathering a few things for him. She put a quilt down on the couch, a set of sheets, and a tiny pillow before looking at him.
“Thank you.”
“I’m an early riser,” she warned, and he nodded.
“Me too.”
“The stairs are narrow to the basement, and that’s where the washing machine is. It’s an old house.”
“It’s great,” he praised simply and realized that it was becoming more and more awkward between them. “I guess I need you to drop me off tomorrow so I can get something to drive; then I will head to the arena to see where I’m going to be practicing, meet the guys, and give you a little space.”
“I need to get you a set of keys,” she replied. “I probably need to get a few groceries, so if you need something, there is a notepad on the fridge. Just jot it down, and I’ll grab it.”
“I’ll put you on my checking account on Monday and… ”
“No,” Ashley interrupted, looking up and meeting his eyes. “Ninety days. We’re doing this for ninety days, and we are strangers. Don’t make a move that will be hard to unwind, if needed.”
Ouch.
“Good thinking,” he replied, burying his feelings of rejection. “Well, good night.”
“Good night,” she murmured, leaving the room - and him - behind.