Page 36 of All Snowed Gin

Shit, I can’t let her see that. She can’t know that with five simple words, Winston shredded my insides and turned my world upside down. That I’m suddenly a mix of mushy emotions inside, even more so than before. I know I can hide this. I’ve done it for the last year. If I can do it over Gram and Gramps, I can with Rose too. No biggie, to use Winston’s phrase.

Rose shakes her head, Winston’s name clearly not meaning anything to her.

“The de Baers own Gold’s Gas and Garage. You talked to Winston the other evening during the storm. He brought a tire up for you, and he’s changing it now.”

“Oh! But I thought…”

“Yeah, apparently the damage wasn’t as bad as originally thought, so they were able to clear it quickly. He’s, errrr, working on it now, so it shouldn’t take long. He said he’d text when he was done.”

“Oh.”

That’s all she says. Oh. But that one sound sums it up. All my feelings, everything that I wish I could say but can’t, right there. Oh.

The look on her face is unreadable. I can’t tell if she’s just as cut up as I am, trying to figure out the perfect response. If she wants to stay here as much as I want her to. Or if she’s trying to figure out the most polite way to dash past me and run back to Hickory Hills as fast as that lime-green Jeep will take her.

We stand in silence for a long moment, neither of us saying anything. Neither of us wanting to be the one to make the first move. The unexpected happened over these last few days, and it was magical, and now that magic has been broken. Spoiled. We have to head back to reality. And let’s face it, reality bites.

“I guess I should pack then,” she finally says, hands toying with the hem of my shirt, fingertips grazing her thighs. My mouth waters, knowing what’s under there, my whole body wanting to pick her up, throw her over my shoulder, and take her straight back to bed. But I don’t. “Then I can get out of your hair. I’ve been in your way long enough.”

“You haven’t been in my way,” I correct her, taking two large steps and closing the gap between us. “It’s been quite nice having you here.”

It’s been quite nice having you here? Just when the fuck did I become an eighty-five-year-old woman? Internally, I’m kicking myself, but my mouth doesn’t seem to follow along, not doing anything more than smiling. Like an idiot. Because that’s what I am right about now. An idiot.

“It was nice of you to let me stay, and to humor me with the sledding and movies and meatballs and…” she goes from rambling to trailing off, her eyes darting to the side, like she’s unable to look at me. “Anyway, it was all so very nice.”

Nice. Nice. Because this has all been nice. Good to know that neither of us can think of a better word. A word that we’ve now said so many times, it’s lost all fucking meaning.

I need to say something. Do something. Tell her that I’d like her to stay. Or that I’d like to see her again. Or at least keep in touch. Keep in touch? Great, now this sounds like a high school yearbook. Maybe I should throw in a “don’t ever change” just to round out the cliché.

“Rose—”

A knock at the door cuts me off. For the love of all things, who the hell could it be now? I huff, turning back around, even more annoyed than I was being woken up early. I swear, this door has seen more action in the last week than it has the rest of its life combined. I yank it open, finding Winston standing there again.

“Hey man, sorry, you got a lug wrench by chance?”

“You’re delivering my tire but don’t have a lug wrench?” Rose asks from behind me, her voice incredulous. I can’t blame her. I was about to ask the same thing; she just beat me to it.

“Oh, hi Miss, I err…” Winston leans over to address Rose, but then stops, a blush reddening his cheeks. Based on that reaction I’m going to guess he just realized she’s not only not wearing pants, but is in my shirt. Rose, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to care, her hip cocked out, one hand resting on it, and an expectant look on her face like he has five seconds to answer or she’s going to whoop him. “I’m gonna blame the new girl. Just don’t let Hudson hear me say that.”

“Secret’s safe with me. There should be one in the garage. Follow me.” I nod toward the garage, stepping outside to take him that way. I pause with the door halfway closed, sticking my head back inside. “Be right back.”

Rose nods, her awkward smile still in place. Shit. I better figure out what to say, and quick.

Five minutes later, Winston is back on his way and I’m headed into the house, no wiser on what I’m going to say to Rose. My head is a jumbled mess, torn between playing it cool and being that guy who wildly professes his love after the first date. Neither seem like the right move, but I’m still at a loss for what the right one is.

Heading toward the bedroom, I pause in front of Gram and Gramps’s wedding photo. The two of them are smiling bright, their love and excitement shining through the black-and-white photo. Of all the moments I’ve wished they were still here so I could ask them for advice, this one might just top the list. Because they would know what to do. Each one would have their own sage advice on what to say and how to approach this. I’m on my own though, so here goes nothing.

I step back, pivoting to turn into the bedroom, when Rose barrels out, tugging her suitcase behind her. She jumps when she sees me, hand flying to her heart.

“Oh, I didn’t hear you come back in!”

“Sneaking out like a thief in the night? Do I need to count the silver?” I joke.

“There’s silver? Damn it, I missed that,” she jokes back. I laugh, thankful that there is still this ease between us. “Just don’t go looking for those candlesticks anytime soon.”

She gives me an exaggerated wink, and I let out a guffaw. “One less weapon for Colonel Mustard to choose from, I guess.”

Rose laughs, a true genuine smile breaking free. It makes my insides turn to goo while also making my stomach ache. Because somehow I know that’s going to be the last one of those I see.