Credence

One thing is for certain, though. Too much of a good thing is dangerous.

I’m sleeping alone tonight.

“Move the horses into the paddock and start clearing the debris.”

“Already done,” I hear Noah tell his father as I descend the stairs. “I’m raking out the stalls now. Oh, and Henderson emailed about his order, so just go deal with the new specs, and I’ll take care of the barn.”

I enter the kitchen, seeing Noah pull a small plate out of the microwave as I circle the island toward the sink for some water.

He sets the plate down on the counter, his eyes falling to my arm. “Is it okay?”

I fill up a glass and nod, tossing him a half smile. “It’s okay.”

A little better after my shower and the ibuprofen, actually. The heat cured most of my body aches.

He stares down at me, a slight smile playing on his lips, and flutters fill my stomach, making me lose my breath. He did exactly what he said he was going to do last night. He made love to me. He kissed me so much.

He kissed me so much last night. My cheeks warm, remembering.

He pushes the plate toward me, smirking like he knows exactly what I’m thinking. “Your muffin’s warmed.”

I cock an eyebrow and grab the muffin off the plate, taking my glass and walking away. I hear his snort behind me.

Setting my plate on the island, I take a bite as Noah leaves. The sweet taste makes my mouth water. I ate at dinner last night, but I’m starving like I haven’t eaten in days.

I look up, seeing Jake’s eyebrows furrowed as he stares at the door that Noah just left through.

“What’s wrong?”

Jake blinks, shaking his head. “He’s helping,” he replies. “Willingly.”

He walks to the coffee pot and pours a cup as I drop my head, so he can’t see my smile.

“And the coffee’s already made,” he adds, staring at the pot with a puzzled look.

I take another bite. Happy people are more agreeable. I know that much. Noah is responsible today, because he’s happy today.

“Aren’t you cold?” I hear Jake ask.

I look over, seeing him stare at my bare arm, because I’m wearing a tank top with only one arm inside my sweater. The other side is tucked over my shoulder.

“The sleeve chafes me.” I tuck my hair behind my ear and take another bite.

He approaches. “You should stay in bed. You shouldn’t be up walking around. We can handle everything.”

“I don’t want to stay in bed.”

I thought about it. If for no other reason than to catch up on some sleep, but…

I don’t want to be in my room. I don’t want to be where they’re not.

I slow my chewing. It’s going to hurt to leave when the snow melts, isn’t it? I miss them when I’m not around them. What’s it going to be like being in a different state when I don’t even want to be in another room without them?

“Did you draw these?”

Huh? I come back to reality and turn, following his gaze. Both doors of the refrigerator are plastered with my sketches for the re-designs I’m doing on the furniture. I straighten my spine and walk toward the fridge, confused. I thought I threw these away.

Wrinkles cover one of the pieces of the butcher paper, because it was thrown in the trash and dug out. The other sketches I slid under the couch when I finished working the other day in the living room and wanted them out of the way.