Nolan beamed at the sight of Brynne’s taste test. His eyes had already been shining with pride over his jarred creation, something that only brightened at the prospects of sharing it with her. The blues of his irises grew more apparent with each passing moment, but it hardly compared to the flush of pink that ran up his nape when the word ‘love’ hit the air.
“Ah, okay, I—” Pushing himself away from the counter, he reached for his collar, intent on adjusting his tie, his fingers faltering upon remembering that his torso bore nothing more than a plain tee. He looked down to his socks and rubbed his collarbones, then moved one hand to run against the back of his neck. Surely the chill of his fingertips would do well for the burning sensation that permeated all throughout his chest and up to his head.
“It’s, ahm—” he cleared his throat. “It’s an old family recipe.”
Those words were still proper, weren’t they? He hadn’t explicitly stated that he made the marmalade… His smile was still unsteady as he attempted to push forward without getting caught on her comment.
“I’m glad that you enjoy it. Does it, ah— hopefully it’ll suffice for for now?” Nolan wondered if the question was too forward — the ‘now’ possibly suggesting that there would be another time like this in the future. It was imprudent, especially considering the uncertainty as to whether or not she would hastily leave for a second time in the present. He scolded himself again and immediately turned away.
Instinct guided him toward the refrigerator, and it was as though he couldn’t open it quickly enough. He scanned the interior for as long as it would take to inspect a near-empty container, then retrieved a carton of milk and side-stepped to take two glasses from the adjacent cupboard. Sliding the carton and the glasses toward the center of the counter, he nodded in very minuscule self-satisfaction and finally spoke again.
“With regard to the, ah— the ‘super intense organizing,’ I, ahm—” I lied about that and was actually sickly for days after our first encounter. Did you feel that too? “—I finally had the chance to settle in. It’s quite the relief to no longer be surrounded by boxes.”
Nolan hummed to himself for another moment before being unable to hold back his curiosity — and concern — any longer.
“How, ahm— how have you been?”
—— ✥ If there was ever an opportunity where running away without a word made sense, this was it. Yet Brynne sat secure in her seat, unflinching. She didn’t even look at the door. Even though something minor had sent her running the night of the ball, she didn’t feel the need to escape from this. It was a joke she would have made with anybody, and maybe that was why she felt like it could easily be overcome here. Their situation was obviously different, but at least she was starting to really act like herself.
Still, she was grateful the way Nolan seemed to glide past it without too much comment. If either of them had made a much bigger deal over her poor word choice, she couldn’t guarantee her presence much longer. At least this time she would have been able to recognize a specific cause.
Brynne laced her fingers together, the comfort of her own touch dulling the uncertainty she felt. “Hmm?” Her focus once again drew back to Nolan as he spoke, her lips pressed together in an attempt to keep any more words from spilling out. “Oh, uh, yeah. It’s great,” she said, nodding her response. She was still trying to get over the casual use of falling in love, not paying close enough attention to notice the way he’d said ‘for now’. The prospect of the future together had really been what sent her running last time.
With Nolan’s back turned, Brynne was able to scold herself in the most personal way. She looked up at the ceiling, mouthing a few cuss words as she shook her hands in frustration. It did not last long, and she quickly reverted to her same position once she noticed the man turning back towards her. She narrowed her eyes curiously at his choice of beverage, assuming it was due to his desperate need for groceries.
Before she could question him, a new thought occurred to her. She didn’t know what had brought him to Jericho to begin with, or how long he had been there. To have gotten a house, it must have been a well planned trip, not the last minute adventure Brynne had made out of her move. He had clearly been in town long enough to make good progress on the garden, and to have made it to the grocery store at least once. From what she remembered, he had come from California.
Once again, she failed to completely grasp what he said due to her own thoughts taking over her attention. But when he turned a question towards her, she opened her mouth to respond. No words came out, though, so she closed her lips again. How was she supposed to answer that question? It was worded so casually, but felt more invasive than that if she answered honestly. I can’t get you out of my head, no matter what I try. Neither of them were probably ready to hear that or experience that conversation. Brynne wondered if she could lie, or if she could omit certain details and still get away with it. In theory she could never tell a single thread of truth and Nolan wouldn’t know any better, but it would always come back to bite her in the ass.
“Honestly? I don’t know,” she finally said, her shoulders relaxing. “I think I’m still getting used to... this,” she added finally, looking down at the mark on her ring finger. It looked and felt the same as it had the day before the ball, but nothing was the way it had been. Brynne couldn’t identify exactly what it was, but something in her had changed. “I’m sorry I left the way I did. The other night.” It wasn’t entirely relevant anymore, but she still felt the push to say it. “My way of dealing with things has always been... not... dealing with them,” she explained.
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