Waiting For August

Part 53 ~ Trial run

The sky was darkening. What was once a beautiful sunny day, was turning somber. It's previously blue sky quickly becoming mauve and then darkening to grey as the storm closed in. By the time I pulled the car up the drive to park behind Caleb's truck, the wind had picked up and fat raindrops had begun to fall. If Caleb was planning on barbequing, I seriously hoped he had a back-up plan.

"Looks like rain," I said absently, then felt foolish. Of course it looks like rain, dummy.

Caleb didn't seem to notice. "Yeah," he said as he looked up at the sky. "I think we're going to get a banger."

"I love thunderstorms," I mumbled as I too looked to the sky.

"Me too."

When I glanced back at him, he was staring at me, a small smile on his lips. I quickly looked away feeling subconscious. Sometimes the looks he gave me were intense. Not that it took much from him to get me flustered.

Caleb reached out and grabbed my knee. "Time to batten down the hatches, August. Wanna help?"

"Yeah." I nodded.

We brought the groceries to the kitchen, stopping long enough to put the ice cream into the freezer before heading down to the barn.

There we chased horses. Horses that didn't mind a little rain and had no plans of going into the barn this early in the day. Once they were rounded up, and safely inside, we did the same with a little goat. The hens it seemed had gone to roost as soon as the sky had darkened.

Once back in the kitchen, I put groceries away while Caleb started to prep for his meal. I brewed coffee and when it was ready, I dropped down at the table with a mug for each of us, to watch Caleb work.

Caleb could cook. Like really cook. Watching him move around the kitchen, doing five things at once, I found him fascinating. He used kosher salt and ground black pepper to season his steaks, before moving on to wash and slice mushrooms. He washed two large potatoes before rubbing them with olive oil and a dash of salt and tucking them into the oven. He shucked corn but not before he'd got a pot of salted water ready to boil.

"How are you cooking those T-bones?" I asked from my spot at the table as I glanced out the window. The sky was darker than before, but strange enough the rain had held back. Other than those first few drops, the sky still hadn't broke.

Caleb smiled at me from across the room. "Cast iron, butter basted with rosemary before finishing in the oven." He sauntered over to me now that he had everything ready to go. He pulled his chair up to face mine with our knees only inches apart. "We just need to give the potatoes a bit of a head start."

I dropped my eyes to his hands, fidgeting in his lap. They were large, strong, working hands, his nails clean, and neatly trimmed. They embodied strength and yet I knew from experience how tender and gentle they could be.

Before I realized what I was doing, I had reached out to touch his hands, to take them into my own. I had done it without thought and when my mind caught up to what my body was doing, I quickly tried to withdraw, but at that point it was too late. Caleb's own hands had already turned and opened to accept and hold my own.

His touch brought my eyes to his face. His blue eyes were waiting for mine. He smiled as our gaze caught. Those damn lips. The ones I longed to kiss—that I could never get enough of. I felt a nervous rush rise up from my stomach to crawl along my spine, setting my skin to gooseflesh. How was it possible that we'd been as intimate as a couple can get, and yet the tiniest smile or subtle glance from him could still make me quake and blush like a fool.