“Next Sunday…” he started. Katrin breathed deeply and nodded before he finished speaking. “…the whole day.”
She raised her eyebrows in surprise and tilted her head to the side, and her smile seemed a little brighter, a little less sad and worried.
“The whole day,” she repeated, searching his eyes. “Okay.”
He stood up without letting go of her hand, turning it over carefully and pressing his lips against her palm.
“Okay,” he breathed.
She gently withdrew her hand then turned without another word. When she was a few yards away, she turned and lifted her hand in a small wave. He raised his hand back, wishing she would suddenly run back to him, into his arms.
Don’t go yet. Stay with me a little longer, Katrin.
He watched her walk away into the setting sun to find her friends.
ENTR’ACT
(a week’s worth of flirty texting…)
Hope you found your nurse friend and Dr. Cassanova.
Hope to God he didn’t have a panic attack.
–M
***
Yes, I did.
No, he didn’t.
But, I think he strained his chest working at the clinic this morning.
Think I should offer him a therapeutic massage?
–Ӓ
***
If you do, I bet he “strains” his you-know-what next.
NO.
–M
***
You are fresh, Minste.
I thought we established I’m not that kind of girl.
–Ӓ
***
Kinda gave me hope at the end there, Ӓlskling.
***
You’re very naughty, Minste.
Hope it’s sunny on Sunday.
By the way, what are we doing?
***
Thought we’d explore.
Probably Flathead or Wild Horse.
(Or your bedroom.)
***
You could use a little fresh air.
See you in three days.
***
I’m a good tour guide.
But, fair warning, I plan to feel very panicky.
***
<Eyeroll>
***
Pack a change of clothes just in case.
(Or don’t. That’s fine with me.)
Either way, wear sensible shoes.
***
Tomorrow.
***
Tomorrow.
Söta drömmar, Ӓlskling.
Chapter 7
Katrin waited on the porch swing, pushing back and forth against the porch floor distractedly with the toe of her sneaker. Next to her feet was a small backpack and she held her phone in her hand, looking back through the series of texts they had swapped during the week.
It was too chilly for the hot pink, short-sleeved, scoop-neck t-shirt that fit tightly over her fuller breasts but she didn’t care. If José’s double-take on the stairs this morning was any indication, it was the right choice for Erik Lindstrom. She’d grabbed a windbreaker and smiled to herself, reasoning that the old jeans and sneakers she was also wearing more than balanced out the curviness of her top. A girl was allowed to have a little fun, right?
She hopped off the swing for a moment, digging around in her purse for the postcard she’d written to her mother and then popped it in the mailbox, jauntily flicking the little red flag up with a grin. She had spoken to her mother the day before and was relieved to hear that Wade hadn’t been back around bothering her, and hadn’t been seen by Kristian and Ingrid either, which meant she and her mother could just have a nice catch-up about life in general.
“You’re liking it up there, Katrin Marie?”
“Mom, you have to come up! It’s so lovely. We could have tea, and they have these concerts in the park. We could have a girl’s weekend!”
“You have to send me some pictures over the email, honey.”
“I’ll send you a postcard!”
“Even better!”
She sat back down on the swing and gave herself a little push, loving the feeling of a small breeze on her face. Erik would be here any minute.
Erik Lindstrom. If she thought he had dominated her thoughts the week before, that was nothing compared to the week after they’d kissed. She’d find herself labeling files or stapling handouts, and suddenly be miles away, back in Slighter Park, kissing Erik. Aside from being incredibly distracting, her feelings were proving to be increasingly confusing.
She liked Erik. She felt safe around him, protected. But, it wasn’t just that—she genuinely liked him. The way he had driven her up to Skidoo as a favor to Jenny and Ing. His love of books and his passion when discussing them. His words during their Wickham-Willoughby debate; deep inside, Erik had rules and standards about love…incredibly romantic ones, Katrin decided, whether he wanted to acknowledge them or not. She loved the way his texts were funny and playful, but still a little edgy and hungry. The way he made her feel whenever he looked at her. She couldn’t stop thinking about him. She liked him a lot.
If she could leave her growing feelings for him at the proverbial door—if she didn’t expect or demand a commitment from him—she was certain that he would willingly be her lover. Not unlike the characters in Lady Chatterley’s Lover, Erik seemed comforted by connecting physically, which was why she had kissed him after his panic attack. As long as a relationship had no emotional potential, he wanted it, maybe even longed for it. She wondered, during their long hours apart, what had happened in his life to scare him so much.
Troubling to Katrin was that she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t considering an affair with him, which confused her and made her feel disappointed in herself. She wasn’t easy. Even sleeping with Wade had weighed heavily on her heart, and had continued to trouble her until he had proposed to her. Only within the confines of a real commitment did she truly begin to enjoy the full extent of their physical relationship.
She wrinkled her nose at the word enjoy. She wasn’t totally sure she had ever completely enjoyed their physical relationship. Wade got in, got off, got out. She wondered, as she pictured Erik Lindstrom’s hard body in her head, if a different partner
