The Apple Tree (15 page)

“
Bianca, let me give you a ride. You’re soaked.” Levi’s arm hung out the window.

“
I’m fine.” Although, a warm cab did sound inviting and Levi had been the one to come to her rescue. But he was also the one she caught sitting outside her apartment. Maybe crazy behavior runs in their family.

“
Please, I feel awful watching you trudge through the rain.”

“
Then don’t watch.” She shifted her basket to the other arm. Stomping through a puddle, the water soaked into her sneakers, wetting her socks and chilling her toes. Curse Peter for insisting he’d pick her up and not letting her ride her bike. She stopped walking and narrowed her eyes at Levi. “Fine,” she grumbled.

A huge smile spread across his face. He hopped out of the truck, jogged around to the passenger door and held it open.

“
Thank you.” She climbed inside. Warm air blew from the vents on the dashboard and she lifted her fingers to them, relaxing as the heat surrounded her.

He slid back into the driver’s seat and shifted into first gear, moving forward. “I’m sorry about Peter,” he said.

“
It’s not your fault.”

He looked toward her, his mouth turned down. “Well, I’m still sorry. He has no respect for women.”

“
And you do?” She avoided his eyes, instead watching his hand on the gear shift.

He sighed. “I’m sorry about before.” Then, his voice quieted, “I wanted to make sure you were safe.”

“
Yep, you’re quite the knight in shining armor,” she said, remembering Stephanie’s comment a couple of weeks ago. “But thank you, for today.”

He glanced away from the road, holding her gaze. “Don’t mention it.” His head turned forward again. “But Bianca, you’re better off staying away from Peter. I know he’s charming, but he’s not… stable. He lost his wife and he never got over it. He uses people to avoid his own pain. He’s not really someone you want to get mixed up with.”

She looked down at her hands. Peter had been married. She’d never have guessed. “I can’t believe you guys are related. I met you both just a few days from each other. That’s a crazy coincidence.”

He raised his brow. “Crazy, I know.”

When they reached her apartment, he parked the truck along the curb and then turned to face her. “I’ve been wondering, and I apologize if I’m being nosey, but that little boy I saw the other day. He’s your son?”

“
Oh, no. He’s my brother.” She smiled. “His name is Owen.”

“
Your brother? That’s a big age difference.”

“
Yeah, well, he’s my half-brother.” She watched the raindrops streaming down the windowsill. “When my dad left a few years ago, my mom became… unstable. She got herself pregnant, so I moved in to help out.”

His fingers played with the hair on his arm. “You’re a kind person, Bianca.”

“
I just want what’s best for Owen.” She reached for the door handle. “Thank you for the ride.”

“
Anytime,” he said.

B
ianca awoke to a knock at the door. She groaned and looked at the clock, eight. Who could be visiting this early? She rubbed her eyes and stumbled downstairs, wearing Santa Claus pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt.

Levi stood on her porch, leaning against the support beam and looking hotter than anyone should first thing in the morning. She bit the inside of cheek and wished she’d taken the time to get dressed before opening the door.

He wore a navy t-shirt, a brown jacket and jeans. Under his arm, he held a wooden framed box with glass windows. The sight of him was a pleasant thing to wake up to, but what was he doing here?

“
Good morning. Nice pajamas.” He nodded to her pants and grinned.

Her face grew warm as she ran her hands through her hair, trying to smooth it down a bit.

“
Isn’t it a little early for Santa though? It’s only October.” He raised an eyebrow.

“
They’re comfy all year round.” A cool breeze blew through the thin material of her shirt. Shoot. She wasn’t even wearing a bra. Her arms crossed against her chest.

“
Well, I just came to bring you this.” He held up the box. “I noticed you’d cleared all your plants from the porch. I’m guessing that’s because of the cold weather, so I made you a cold-frame.” His lower lip slipped between his teeth. “In case you wanted to keep growing through the winter.”

Her hand gripped the door frame. The box was about a two foot square, the ideal size for her porch.

“
That’s… perfect. I’m kind of stunned, actually.” She looked up through her lashes and smiled at him. “Thank you.”

“
I brought you some seeds too.” He pulled a couple of white envelopes from his pocket. “Unless you have some you want to use, of course, but I brought lettuce and kale. Do you want me to help you plant them?

She took a deep breath, waiting for the tightness in her throat to disappear before she answered. “Um, yes. That’d be great. Let me change first though.”

His eyes shifted up and down her body. “I don’t know, I kind of like the look.”

She rolled her eyes. “Come inside, you can wait on the couch. I’ll just run upstairs real quick.”

He set the box down on the concrete patio and walked past her, into the living room. After glancing around the room, he sat on the futon, leaning back against the green cushion.

“
Okay, be right back.” She bolted up the stairs.

Was she crazy? Inviting him into her home? But he had helped her the day before with Peter and it was really sweet for him to bring the cold-frame. A sigh left her as she ripped off her pajamas. Despite his weird behavior, there was something about him that made her feel comfortable.

Quickly, she changed into jeans and a fitted vintage tee with bra. She yanked a comb through her hair, brushed her teeth and applied a bit of lip gloss before racing back downstairs.

She found him studying the canvas painting hung behind the futon, a red and yellow abstract piece.

He turned toward her. “Did you paint this?”

“
Yeah, it’s not that great. I had a brief tortured artist phase in high school.” Her gaze followed his to the bright swirling colors and she shrugged. “My mom likes it. She’s the one who hung it up.”

“
I like it too.” His grey eyes drew her in like a Monet. “Do you still paint?”

She licked her lips and then broke his stare before answering. “No. It’s just something I did to work through my emotions after my dad left. Okay, should we plant those seeds?” Her hands clapped together and then she grabbed a knitted sweater off the hook by the door, pulling it around her shoulders.

He followed her outside, lifted the box and set it in the middle of the porch before kneeling in front of it.

The cool fall air sent a shiver through her body. She pulled her sweater closed and sat beside him on the concrete.

“
So, you just lift from this side to open it.” Levi demonstrated. Square plastic pots lined the inside, already filled with soil.

“
You made this yourself?” Using her finger, she poked little holes in the grainy dirt.

He nodded, poured a few seeds into his palm and held them out to her. “It was simple. I’ve made them before for use around my house.”

She pinched a couple of seeds in the tips of her fingers, brushing against his palm in the process and shifted her gaze up to his.

The corner of his mouth tipped up into a smile. “This one is kale.”

“
I love kale soup.” She looked away for a moment as fluttering filled her chest. His kindness overwhelmed her and she wondered why she’d been so disturbed by his watching before. They placed the seeds in the holes and then filled them with soil.

“
You have to remember to water these since the rain won’t get to them.” He brushed his hands against his jeans.

“
Okay.” She found a spot on the edge of the concrete to place the cold-frame box “Thank you for this. It was very thoughtful.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down at the box. “It’s nothing really.”

This man on her porch didn’t seem like a creep at all. Where was the gruff guy who’d demanded to search her bag the first time they’d met? “Would you like to come inside and have breakfast with me?”

His eyes lit like the flint of a lighter. “I would love that.”

A smile crossed her face and they walked through the apartment and into the kitchen. She opened the fridge, peering inside. “Do you want eggs and toast or I could make muffins or something?”

“
Eggs and toast is fine.” He peered at the gooey mess inside the bowl on the counter. “Are you making sourdough?”

She pulled the eggs out from the fridge, setting them on the beige counter. “Well, I’m trying to. I haven’t actually got it to work yet.”

“
My mother used to make it. I wish I remembered what she did.”

She pulled a frying pan out of the cupboard. “Used to?”

“
She’s not around anymore.”

Biting her lip, she regretted having asked. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” She placed the pan on the counter, studying his face.

He waved his hand. “It was a long time ago.”

“
Well, I don’t have sourdough bread, but I do have some sprouted wheat.” She held up the loaf she’d made yesterday.

“
That sounds great. I usually buy my bread. I’d love some homemade.” He paused, looking at her. “I’m impressed. You seem to really know your way around the kitchen.”

She shrugged. “It’s kind of my thing, I guess.” Lifting an egg, she cracked it against the counter, dropping the insides into a bowl. “But this is just eggs, it’s not that hard.”

“
I was referring to the bread. Here, let me help you with that.” He took another egg from the carton. “You get the pan ready.”

A man who willingly helped in the kitchen couldn’t be all bad, right? She placed the pan on the stovetop and turned on the burner.

“
Do you get these eggs from the farmer’s market?” He opened a drawer, a confused look on his face.

She pointed to the drawer beneath the microwave. “The utensils are in here. And yes, why?”

“
Well, I have chickens and I always have way too many eggs, since it’s just me. I could bring you some.” He found a fork and started whisking the eggs together.

She leaned against the counter, watching him work. “That would be great.”

He smiled. “No problem.” He handed her the bowl and she dumped the contents into the pan, making a sizzling sound.

“
So, what is this? Are you trying to be my perfect guy or something, to make up for your weirdness before?”

“
Maybe I am your perfect guy,” he said with a wink.

“
And you ruined it. That right there just made you completely un-perfect.”

A pleasant chuckle filled the air. “Well, nobody’s perfect.” He shrugged, the smile still on his face.

Why did he have to keep confusing her with his conflicting behavior?
She took out a wooden spoon and stirred the eggs around in the pan.

“
Bee?” A tiny voice came from the other side of the counter.

“
Owen, you’re awake.” She walked around and scooped him up. “Want to help me make breakfast?”

Owen nodded and she handed him the spoon, helping him stir the eggs while keeping his arms a safe distance from the hot pan. Levi leaned against the counter and watched her, causing her movements to become clumsy. “There’s some cantaloupe in there we can eat,” she said, dropping the wooden spoon on the floor as she pointed to the fridge.

Levi handed her the spoon back and then retrieved the cantaloupe.

When the eggs were cooked and the smell of warm bread drifted from the toaster, the three of them sat down at the kitchen table.