Page 91 of Not Until I Found You

“You have to take a bite and experience the sandwich first, and then you can ask whatever questions you might have.”

Her eyebrow raises in amusement, and I catch the hint of a smile tipping the corners of her mouth before she hides it behind her sandwich. She takes a bite, and I watch her chew. I study the creases on her lips, the way her bottom one is a little plumper than her top, how her cupid’s bow dips ever so slightly.

And I’m staring at her again.

“Wow.” She hums in delight, and I most definitely do not react to that sound.

I swallow hard and fight the desire to lean across the kitchen island and lick away the smudge of peanut butter she has on the corner of her mouth. I’d pick her up by those thighs of hers that have been so very distracting anytime she’s wearing shorts, and I’d set her on this island in front of me so we could be at eye level and I could easily reach her mouth.

I’m pretty sure she’s talking to me right now, but I’m unsure of what she’s saying. I shake my head, refocus my gaze, and with the way she’s looking at me, I know she’s seen how much she’s destroyed my control.

“Hmm?”

“Everything okay up there?” she asks, and I’m reminded of the first time she asked me that. Had that only been a month ago? How does being around Maxinne feel like a time warp?

I nod in response. “Yeah.” My voice comes out a little gruff, and I clear my throat. “How do you like it?”

She shakes her head at me. “I said it’s really good. Like, really, really good.”

I beam with satisfaction before taking a bite of my own sandwich.

“There’s a story here. I can tell by the look on your face,” she adds.

I wonder if my expression has given away everything I’ve been thinking about tonight. The problem is, I wouldn’t even know how to explain it if she asked. How do you admit that someone is quietly undoing fears you spent years convincing yourself were there to protect you? I swallow my bite and grin at her.

“There is.” I pause as I walk around to take the barstool next to her, partly for dramatic effect, and partly so we don’t have this dreadful island between us anymore. “When we first moved here, Ryland and I were upset for weeks. Leaving our friends and home was tough on us. So, one morning after church, my Nan made us these sandwiches to cheer us up. It’s basically a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but you grill it with butter and maple syrup until it is brown, and add the powdered sugar on top.”

Her expression softens. “Well, did it cheer you up?”

I take another bite, smiling as I chew, and nod.

“That’s sweet. I bet you miss her.”

“I do. So much,” I say through my mouthful.

I swallow, a little harder than I intended, the food going ’down the wrong pipe.’ I cough and look for my cup but realize I didn’t pour us anything to drink. Maxinne moves quickly, rushing toward the fridge, and tosses me a bottle of water. I take a drink, instantly grateful for the relief it brings.

She’s turned around now, looking into the fridge, and freezes mid-reach. I wait until she finally grabs something and pulls out an Olipop, one of the prebiotic beverages she likes drinking. She turns around, surprise settling deep in the lines bracketing her eyes.

“Did I rub off on you and you’ve started drinking Olipop?”

“No. I bought them for you.”

She looks down at the can in her hands, and her face relaxes.

“I know how much you like them,” I add.

“I, uh…” She pauses, closing the fridge door behind her, and returns to her seat with the drink in hand. Strawberry-vanilla flavored, I notice. I bought one in every flavor that I could find. “Derek used to make fun of me for drinking these. He always said it would cause my stomach to stretch and make me look bloated. I found out later that the stretching part is a myth. He would also tell me they weren’t worth the cost. So I never kept them in the house. I would only have one here and there whenever I went grocery shopping, as a little secret treat.”

I frown. “You should be allowed to have something that makes you happy.”

“How do you know they make me happy?”

“You do this cute little shoulder-shimmy move, like this”—I do my best impression—“every time you take your first sip. It’s how I imagine I feel when I take that first sip of hot coffee in the mornings.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you do a shoulder shimmy after coffee before.”

“Maybe not, but if it makes you smile, I’ll start doing one every morning.”