Page 86 of Whispered Promises

“Hi,” she answers breathlessly, “It was good. Noah came to help scrub some troughs for a couple hours. How was yours?”

Being this close, I can see her pupils expanding, her lashes framing soft grey eyes. Lashes that aren’t quite black but appear to be a deep brown. I place my mouth on hers, needing to remind myself of how she feels against me. We may have only had our first kiss a few days ago, but the imprint of it has been on my mind ever since.

Reluctantly, I pull back. “So much better now you’re here,” I tell her. I know I’m being too keen, but I can’t help it. I want her to know how much I love spending time with her, how much I crave her company.

Her lashes flutter, and her mouth rounds as she utters, “Oh.” Pushing up on her tiptoes, she places another kiss on my lips. “That was sweet. Thank you.”

“If you offer kisses for every nice thing someone says, they’re going to be inundating you,” Max quips with a laugh, but it falls flat when he sees her stricken face.

“What? I don’t go around kissing everyone or anyone.” She shakes her head, glancing between us, panicked. “I promise, I don’t.”

“Maxi, fuck off,” Nate growls.

“Fuck. No. That’s not what I meant,” he says in a rush. “I meant everyone, as in these three. Not everyone, everyone. I was trying to make a joke. A shit one, because apparently, I’ve lost my touch and it wasn’t funny. I’m really sorry.”

Her shoulders drop at his explanation, but she’s rigid and unsure now. I’m frustrated on her behalf, but I think Max is trying, even if it’s getting lost. Nate wraps his arm around her waist, tugging her back into him and placing a kiss on her crown.

Unable to resist, I swipe my finger down the slope of her nose. “Are you hungry? Dinner’s almost ready. I just need to put the pasta in to cook. It will only take a couple of minutes.”

She groans, and I freeze midway through walking back into the kitchen.

That sound.

“So hungry! I forgot my lunch, and my stomach is protesting. Loudly.” She laughs.

Max makes a sound of sympathy, but Nate and I don’t join her.

She hasn’t eaten in hours.

Rounding back into the kitchen, I continue getting dinner sorted. “I can make lunches for you if you’re too busy?” I offer. I need her to let me help take care of her.

She’s not incapable; I know that. Whether it was her nan, her work, or the animals…she always spent so much time putting everyone else’s needs above her own. It feels like she needs someone—someones I correct as I glance at Nate gripping her tightly—to do the same for her.

“What? No.” She shakes her head quickly. “I don’t mind taking any leftovers from dinner, so they don’t go to waste, but you definitely don’t need to spend more time cooking just for me.” Her brows draw in as she frowns, but all it does is make her look cuter.

“You just give the leftovers to Steph,” I tell her, daring her to deny it. “I make lunches for all of us, anyway. It’s no bother to make one more.”

Her lips purse with her indecision. What is she struggling to decide? Saying yes to make me happy, but feeling like an imposition? Or saying no and worrying she might offend me? I don’t completely know how her mind works yet, but I know she must be going back and forth between deciding what would be the least difficult decision for me.

“Please?” I add with a twinge of what feels like guilt trailing the words. Because I know that plea will make it harder for her to turn me down, but this is for her too. She deserves to be looked after, whether she thinks she does or not.

Shoulders slumping, she drops her head and stares at the ground. “Okay.” She nods, fingers twisting the sleeves of her jumper into knots.

Nate leans in and kisses her cheek, and she leans back into him. I know letting me do this for her is hard, so she should get all the kisses in return.

“Good. Saying no means you’d miss out on the best lunches. Bry promised years ago he’d never leave, because then I’d just starve,” Max quips.

Rosy laughs softly, even though it looks like it pains her slightly to look at him. Whatever was said between them, there’s still a lot of hurt there.

Turning the burner off, I remove the pan, then add some of the pasta water to the sauce before adding the drained tagliatelle and stirring it all together.

Just as I start plating, Noah walks in, finished from his shower. After seeing the muddy water splashes all over his clothing when he came home earlier, it was needed.

Rosy looks his way, and a flush crests her cheeks as he smiles at her, which is…interesting. Everyone grabs a plate, except Rosy. She gets intercepted by Nate, who takes hers as well as his. She offers a playful eye roll to his back as she follows him to the table.

She just completes us all perfectly.

THIRTY-FOUR