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Could he tell that she was holding her breath? “Yeah.”
They danced a few more songs, the tension of the last few months slowly evaporating. They gave their best man and maiden of honor speeches before finally sitting down to enjoy the delicious buffet. Amelia kicked off her shoes and vowed to never put heels on again.
“Too bad, Howard,” Creed commented, pushing away from the table and reaching for her feet. “Because your legs looked killer in those things.” He nodded to the heels as he lifted her feet onto his lap, careful not to tangle the bottom of her calf length dress.
Amelia groaned deep when he knuckled the bottom of her foot. “You’re officially my favorite person,” she murmured. “And I don’t care how my legs look. Heels and I are done. Over. Kaput. No more.”
Izzie ran up to the table, her Mary Jane shoes clapping noisily on the wood floor.
“Daddy! Miss Amelia! It’s snowing!” She had a ring of chocolate around her lips and her curls stuck up more than usual. Amelia gasped in delight and pulled her feet from Creed’s lap, hurriedly toeing her swollen feet back into the pumps.
Creed laughed. “I thought you and heels were done,” he called after her as she nearly tripped over her dress in her excitement.
“That’s before snow was involved!” she shouted back.
Chapter Forty-Two
Christmas came and went. Creed and Amelia rekindled their friendship—mostly through text messages, though they had gone to lunch after church a few times, always with Izzie. Twice Creed had called her after Izzie had gone to bed and they talked for hours about nothing and everything. The day after Christmas she had joined Creed and Izzie on a sledding trip in the mountains. His heart pounded whenever she was near, and he had a hard time concentrating with the cold painting her cheeks a delicious pink, but he kept his feelings to himself. No way was he going to scare her off again. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t holding out hope that he could eventually bring the subject back around, even if it took years of him showing her that he was sticking around this time.
A few days after the wedding, Creed had looked through his storage and found Amelia’s letters. He sat down and read every one, then purposefully answered each and every letter. He said the things he should have been bold enough to say ten years before, then tucked them into an envelope. He didn’t know if there would ever be a time he could give them to her, but he prayed often for it.
After the fourth snow storm since Christmas and a third snow day in a row was called after the long holiday break, Kate called to ask if she could have Izzie for the night.
“We’re losing our minds over here, but at least my kids have each other to play with. I was thinking I could take them all to that indoor trampoline place and out to lunch tomorrow.”
Creed was more than happy to oblige. He could only make so many snow forts in one week. In the weeks since Christmas there had been a record snowfall in their area and the natives were most definitely getting restless. Even Amelia, who had been staunchly enthusiastic about the back to back snowstorms. Until now.
Being a homeowner officially stinks. What was I thinking? she texted soon after Izzie had left with Kate.
Creed smirked. I thought you loved your new house.
That was before snow was involved! she texted back.
Not so fun anymore?
His phone dinged five times in a row. His mouth ticked up. She was feeling chatty. But when he opened the texts he sat up, worried.
My arms are killing me from shoveling. I’ve never shoveled so much in my life! So far I have only had to shovel a path to my car, but the Forresters’ are gone. They’ve been using farm equipment to keep their road and mine clear. I tried to dig myself out today but it’s taking FOREVER. And my car is too low and will definitely get stuck. Oh well. Enough complaining. If I say one negative word about the heat this summer throw something at me, will you?
You’re stuck? He shook his head.
Of course she’s stuck, stupid. All she has is that little sedan. He had seen numerous cars stuck in the thick snow on side streets, had even helped push a few out. He had never been more thankful for his small SUV as he was that winter. He knew of many people that were stuck at home simply because they couldn’t get out of the driveway.
Yes. Very stuck. But it’s OK. I have snacks and Gilmore Girls on Netflix and a snuggly pup and cat. I’ll survive.
He didn’t answer. Just tied up his snow boots, shrugged his coat on, grabbed his keys and the snow shovel he kept in the coat closet, and locked the door behind him. He unlocked the door and ripped the envelope from the top drawer of the desk, and went back out again.
* * *
Tiredly trudging up the stairs to her porch, Amelia opened the front door wide for Olé.
“Come on boy, take a break,” she said, watching while he trotted off the porch to the side yard. Sassy sat in the window looking down on Olé while he trotted through the snow.
Amelia had been outside shoveling most of the afternoon. She couldn’t stand to sit around her house yet another day and was convinced she could dig her way out. But by the time she reached the road her neighbors normally plowed and realized how far the distance was to the main road, she pooped out.
Olé finished his business and trotted back to where she stood eyeing the wood pile. A fire would be good for her sore muscles—not to mention her heating bill—but she suddenly didn’t have the energy to lift a single log. Olé leaned into her.
“Spoiled dog,” she muttered, ruffling up his ears lovingly. “If you really loved me you would find a way to get me a bbq chicken pizza.”
The muted groan of tires trudging through the thick snow pulled her back toward the driveway. She squinted but didn’t recognize the car right away. Her eyes widened as Creed’s Honda came into view.
She stood numbly on the front porch, waiting while he parked.
“Creed, what on earth—“
She cut off as he exited the car with a large pizza box in his hands. His grin warmed her to her toes. “I heard there was a damsel in distress at this address and I assumed she was in need of pizza.”
She laughed as he came closer, bringing the spicy sweet smell of bbq chicken, red onions, and yeast with him.
“My hero,” she swooned, titling her head and fanning her lashes at him.
She took the pizza from him and led the way inside. Her eyes swept the room quickly, checking for discarded unmentionables because that is exactly the kind of embarrassing scenario that would play out just then. Her house was pristine, of course. After being holed up for the last few days, she’d spent most of her time deep cleaning.
Amelia set the pizza box on the table and reached into the sideboard for plates and napkins. “You want a soda?” She asked.
Creed turned slowly, looking around her house.
“Creed?”
He faced her. “Your house is so…you, Amelia. I don’t know if I told you that the last time I was here. You’ve done well for yourself.”
The pride in his voice embarrassed her. She walked to the kitchen and retrieved two ginger ales and two water bottles, since he hadn’t answered her.
“If you keep showing up unannounced with presents, you just might spoil me, Creed.”
When she came back he was seated at one of the benches at her table, his coat discarded and draped over the arm of her sectional.
She took the bench opposite of him and opened the pizza box, delighted to see diced tomatoes on their favorite pizza.
“See? You spoil me, Creed.”
One corner of his mouth curled up, but he didn’t comment. They ate, discussing the crazy weather and record days off of school.
“I was just getting to know my new class. I hope I can reign them back in after all these days off,” she said.
Creed asked about school and that led to other topics. When they’d eaten their fill, Creed leaned back with a satisfied smile, and wiped his mouth with a napkin.
“Okay,” he said. “I know I invited myself over, and I should do the polite thing and go home now, but honestly, all I can think about is starting a fire.”
Amelia perked up. “Really? That would be amazing. My arms were too tired to bring in wood. And I’m going stir crazy our here by myself.” She scrunched her nose. “But do you care if I go clean up real quick? I feel like a sweaty mess.”
He lifted his chin. “Go. I’ll clear the table and get that fire going. Where are your matches?”
“In the vase on the mantle.”
“Perfect. Now get out of here.”
Amelia grinned. If she weren’t so sore, she would have sprinted up the stairs.
Chapter Forty-Three
Creed stacked pieces of wood from the porch on balled up pieces of newspaper he found in a wooden crate next to the hearth. It only took a few matches to get the fire going and he leaned back on the plush rug. Though he wasn’t cold, he felt a shiver.
There was a charge in the air. Maybe the cold. Maybe being called her hero. Maybe his impulsive decision to bring the letters with him? Whatever it was, he felt change coming.
And could only pray it wouldn’t end in heartache.
The stairs creaked and he turned just as Amelia stepped off the last one. Her hair was piled high on her head in one of those messy buns. His eyes swept her form, appreciating her black leggings and fitted plum t-shirt wrapped in a long grey cardigan.
Just like that his shiver came back.
Amelia came to sit next to him, her lilac and vanilla scent sweeping around him. They sat in contented silence, watching the flames dance and spark.
“I’m surprised they were dry enough for you to start,” Amelia commented. “I need to build a wood shed or something this spring. I had to dig those out of the snow this morning. Hear them sizzle?”
Creed could only hear the pounding of his heart at the moment.
“They didn’t seem frozen,” he finally thought to say.
“I chopped them in smaller pieces to speed up the process,” she answered, sitting tall.
“You chopped them?”
“Sure did. Who needs the gym?” She curled her arm up to let him feel the flexed muscle.
He wrapped his hand around her offered arm, appreciating the firm cut of her bicep. “Hmmm…I definitely feel muscles. You’re a strong woman, Amelia.”
She grinned. “Darn right.” When he didn’t let go, the smile fell from her eyes.
“I mean it, Amelia. You’re a strong woman.” His lips curled softly. “I’m really proud of you.” He slipped his hand from her arm, let it fall into the space between them.
She blushed, though it could have been the firelight. “Thank you.”
They leaned back on their hands, legs straight toward the flames. He clenched his jaw. He couldn’t think of anything to say. At least nothing platonic. He could think of a dozen things he would tell her if only—
“Creed?” She turned toward him, the fire dancing in shadow and light across her face, accentuating her smooth skin. The window on the wall behind her framed a cotton candy pink sky.
“Hmm?”
“This will work, right? You and me? Just friends?” She drew her legs close to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, nestling her chin on top and refusing to look away from the fire.
Friends. The word hit like a sucker punch. He struggled to answer. To say, “Yes, of course,” but he couldn’t work the words past his dry throat. He just stared at the flames, chest rising and falling, unable to say anything.
Finally, “Well…” Well? That’s what you got out, you idiot? Well?
And then, entirely without permission, “Amelia, I know we got off track, but I really do care for you. I don’t see why we can’t be more.”
He chanced a glance at her.
* * *
Her eyes stung and she blinked rapidly, refusing to allow the tears to form.
“To what end, Creed?” she whispered.
He blinked. “What do you mean?”
She gathered her courage from the torn pieces of her heart. “Creed, all I get from anything beyond friendship here is heartache. In high school, the years following…and now.”
He swallowed hard, the flames raking over his handsome face, shadows hiding in the hard lines of his jaw and cheekbones. She hated to hurt him, especially when he’d been through so much. But.
“I’m sorry, Creed. I care for you. A lot. Much more than I’ve cared for anyone in my life.” She placed a hand against his cheek, her stomach quavering when he closed his eyes and leaned slightly into her touch. He opened his eyes again, pools of chocolate swirled with caramel.
“But, it hurts too much to be anything more than your friend. I can’t.”
Tears rolled down her face. Up until now it had been okay. She could still see Creed, dance around the awkwardness between them, pursue their easy banter and fun outings with Izzie all while hoping that maybe…
But he didn’t want her. Not really. She was a pleasant distraction, a dance with his past. She couldn’t protect her heart from that. It was so much more for her. Always had been.
“I think I’ve loved you for as long as I’ve known you. And I think you care about me, are comfortable with me. But you’ve never felt more for me than maybe a passing attraction,” she admitted bravely. “I’m over here falling for Izzie and enjoying the times you two invite me to your little family outings. But I need to be firm now, while I still can, and tell you that I can’t play the romance game, okay? I just…can’t move forward with our friendship unless we agree on that.”
His eyes roamed her face. She closed her own against them and dropped her hand from his cheek.
Probably not getting your point across by caressing the man’s face, Amelia.
“I can’t be in love alone anymore, Creed.”
Embarrassed, she swiped a hand across her face and offered an apologetic smile and shrug. She waved her hand in the air as if she could wipe away the awkwardness.
“Now, how likely am I to talk you into watching The Never Ending Story with me?” She rose from the rug and walked across the room to her DVD collection. The sun had set enough that she couldn’t see the titles clearly. She sniffed, ignoring Creed’s eyes on her and his silence and began to walk across the room to flip on the light. His words stopped her in the middle of the room.
“That’s not going to work for me, Howard.”
Chapter Forty-Four
He couldn’t think straight. Like a pebble thrown into a lake, her words rippled through him, stirring up clouds of memory.
Images of Amelia played through his mind, each taunting, startling in their clarity now: the way she’d always looked at him, always been there. And then she was gone. And then back in his life only to be lost again before he had a chance to show her how he’d changed, how he loved her, too.
The letters.
So, she believed he wouldn’t stick around? That was really what this was about. Protecting her heart. And who could blame her? He hadn’t been careful with it. And though this time the circumstances had been out of his control, the last two months had ripped open old wounds.
It was time to do what he could to heal them, even if she kicked him out. He wouldn’t passively let her slip through his hands again. He stood and began to walk toward her.
“What, the movie choice?” she chuckled nervously as he took a step closer. “We can pick a different one. I just figured you wouldn’t want to watch a girly movie and I only have a handful of guy approved films. Let’s see, I have—“
“Amelia,” he heard the caress in his tone, hoped she did, too.
She turned to him, arms wrapping around her middle as if to ward off an attack. He stopped as close as he dared.
“Sweetie, I can’t promise you that. Don’t get me wrong; I don’t want to risk our friendship. But I…” the words died in his throat when she met his gaze. Her eyes clung to his, searching, hopeful.
Afraid.
“Creed, I refuse to be an idiot any longer.”
Idiot. The word stirred something in his mind. He puffed out a laugh and cupped her face in his hands, kissing her soundly on the mouth. She pushed him back.
“Creed, what are you—“
His mouth closed over hers again, hungry; desperate, cutting off her question. He kissed her with a decade worth of pent up hope and piles of regret. He wove his fingers into her hair, feeling her shiver as she gave in to his kiss. Yes, it was impulsive, but she would understand. Just as soon as he could tear himself away from her mouth.
* * *
She melted into him, hands clutching the shirt at his waist, desperate to hold on and never let go. She gave in to the moment, accepting all that his lips offered and giving it back in spades.
Amelia, what are you doing? You know how this ends.
She pressed aside the thought, desperate to give in, to throw off hindrances and just be held by Creed, if only for a few moments longer. She had done her best to lay boundaries. What was she to do when a man like Creed pushed right past the barriers she never wanted up in the first place? When he showed up at her door with kittens and pizza?
He was the first to pull back. He slowly drew his lips away and steadied her with a look that made the bottom drop out from beneath her belly. Amelia blinked and stepped back out of his reach, and held a trembling hand to her swollen lips.
“Amelia.”
How could he do that? Rouse the butterflies in her stomach with just the whisper of her name on his lips?
“Creed, what are you doing?”
“I’ll be right back,” he said. She blinked at him. What? He was leaving? Now?
He set his hands on her shoulders and held her gaze. “Trust me, Amelia. Just trust me.” He turned and slipped out the front door.
