Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
GRAYSON
“ D o you know where we’re going?”
Towering Douglas firs and hemlocks dominate the space above us, their deep green needles creating a dense canopy overhead. Every so often, the forest opens up to offer a glimpse of the river winding below, a soothing murmur that guides us toward our destination.
“Of course I do,” I answer. At least, I’m pretty sure. Owen’s directions had seemed straightforward enough, but he’s the mountain man, not me. I gave that up years ago.
“You said yourself I used to live in these woods,” I add. That was a decade ago, but still.
“Okay, I trust you.” There’s amusement in her tone, but I appreciate her faith in me all the same.
Shouldering my backpack higher, I intertwine our fingers together, encouraged when she squeezes my hand in return. I bring her hand up to mine, pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist.
I haven’t been able to stop touching her today. Holding her waist as I lift her over a moss-covered log in the path. Curling my hand around her hip when she wanders a little too close to me. And that’s in addition to how I woke her this morning, my head between her legs, her moans of satisfaction music to my ears. She’d returned the favor, and I swear it was even better than last time.
It’s a far cry from the last morning after I spent the night. But today isn’t a goodbye. Not if she wants to come see me in Seattle. She has no idea how much her offer calmed that part of me that’s been restless the past couple of weeks, missing her. And though I still don’t know what the hell I’m doing when it comes to Abby, I’m thankful for it all the same. All I know is… I don’t want this to be over yet.
“Oh, look at that.”
Abby’s pointing to a great blue heron at the edge of the river, still as a statue waiting to catch a fish. Its beady eyes focus on the water in front of it, and just when I’m about to look away, it dives forward, spearing a fish in its long beak.
“Did you see that?” Abby exclaims.
“Pretty cool.”
The path leads down closer to the river, the water reflecting the green of the surrounding trees.
“How long is this river?” Abby asks, reaching out to nearly touch a dragonfly buzzing by.
“I’m not sure. I know it splits from a bigger one further north.”
“Maybe it runs all the way up to Seattle.”
I chuckle. “That’s a pretty far distance. I think the river there starts up near Mount Rainier. It doesn’t cross over into Oregon.”
“Hmm.” She stares out at the water, ducks gliding along the current up ahead. “Well, I still like to think there’s something that connects us between where I am and you are. Maybe the river breaks off into little streams and lakes that eventually meet up.”
I’m fairly sure that’s not how it works, but I pull her closer and say, “I think you’re right.” The idea is hopeful. Maybe we aren’t as far apart as it seems at first glance.
The turnoff to the clearing is right where Owen said it’d be, past a pair of fallen logs that form an X-shape. Abby uses my hand for leverage up the steep incline, then pauses.
“Oh my God,” she mumbles, breaking away from me, her fingers trailing over wildflowers. “It’s like the meadow scene.”
I glance around, with no idea what she’s talking about. “What?” I pick a spot in the center and set my backpack down, then pull out a blanket and spread it on the grass.
“From Twilight .”
“Uh, never saw it.”
She looks at me over her shoulder. “I’m guessing you didn’t read the book, either?”
She’s kidding, right? “You did?”
She snorts, as if my question is ridiculous. “Of course.”
I’m not sure whether to frown or laugh. “But you’re a librarian. I thought you were only allowed to read serious literature.” I pull out the picnic lunch I packed us, setting it on the blanket.
She gives me a pitying smile. “At the end of the day, I want to turn my brain off, not try and figure out symbolism and stuff.” She settles next to me and picks up a strawberry from the container of fruit.
“So what do you read?” I ask.
“Oh, a bit of everything. Sci-fi, thrillers, fantasy, chick lit, mystery. But mostly romances.”
Really? “The smutty kind?”
She blushes, avoiding my eye. “Maybe.”
Well, damn. No wonder she’s amazing in bed. “Any scenes you’d like to act out?”
She laughs, delighted, and my heart pounds watching her. I can’t remember having this good of a time since… the last time I was here in Crescent Pass with her.
We gorge ourselves on the picnic lunch, talking about everything and nothing in a way that makes the mundane seem like a once-in-a-lifetime treat. The conversation ranges from the innocuous like recent weird dreams we’ve had, and Abby teasing me when a bug lands on my face and I freak the fuck out, to the more serious, resuming our discussion from the other week about the struggles she faces with her parents aging and her father’s condition. And though she apologizes for feeling like she’s unloading on me or complaining, I stop her.
“Abby, you can always talk to me. About anything.” I like that she’s comfortable enough with me to share this kind of stuff. When I think about it, I have very few relationships like that in my life. And now that I have it with her… I don’t want to give it up.
She looks at me, solemn and serious in that way I always found her before this week. Before I got to know the real her. She plucks a blade of grass, folding it with her deft fingers the way she works her origami projects.
The moment passes and I’m left with a disquieted feeling. Almost as if I… failed at something. As if she doesn’t believe my offer. “I mean it,” I add, as if that lends me any credibility.
“I know,” she whispers. When she looks back at me, I swear there’s both sadness and acceptance in her gaze, but it’s gone before I can make sure it was there. “Here, lay with me.”
She positions me at an awkward angle so my torso is fully flat on the ground but my neck is cranked all the way to the side to look at her.
She mimics my pose and murmurs, “And so the lion fell in love with the lamb.”
“What?” What is she talking about?
She gives me a small, secretive smile. “It’s nothing. Let’s just enjoy the rest of the day.”
And we do, something about being back here melting my tension away. I’ve missed the simple things. Spotting wildlife. Scenic views. Finding wonder in the surrounding beauty.
I study Abby as she looks up at the sky. The soft curve of her lashes. The gentle slope of her nose. The lushness of her lips, the bottom one ever so fuller than the top.
Both Abby and Crescent Pass have brought the wonder back into my life. And when I leave again…
No. Not ruining today with that. Not when I have the first measure of peace I’ve had in weeks.
Thanks to her.
“Hi, honey.” Mom enfolds me in a hug, somewhat surprising me considering how we left things the last time I saw her, calling bluffs without acknowledging it aloud. “How was the drive?”
“Fine.” I didn’t tell her I arrived Friday night and spent the last day and a half with Abby. I don’t want her getting involved and messing with my head. Things are jumbled enough as it is. “Happy Mother’s Day.”
I hand her the bouquet I picked up from the florist in town, and she makes a big production of finding a vase to put it in.
“Show off,” Kristen mutters, coming down the hallway to greet me. She’s smiling, so I know she’s not serious, but as she hugs me, there’s a sharp pinch to the back of my upper arm.
I jerk away, rubbing at the spot. “What the hell?”
“That’s for messing around with Abby behind my back.”
The blood drains from my face. “She told you about it?” I thought only Owen knew about me and Abby. Then again, the two of them are best friends. Of course she’d tell her.
“Only after I asked her why you were making out after the wedding over by your car.”
I rub the back of my neck, glancing away. Oh, yeah. That. “I, um… I had a feeling you’d react badly.”
She crosses her arms, glaring at me. “You’ve put me in an awkward position. Am I supposed to choose between the two of you now?”
“What? No. I—”
“Because she was super torn up about you leaving. She was crying in the middle of the cafe the morning you left, for God’s sake.”
My stomach drops. “She what?”
Kristen blinks, face going blank. “Shit. You didn’t hear that.”
“I most definitely did. What do you mean, she was crying?”
Her hands wring together, a nervous habit she’s had for as long as I can remember. “I… wasn’t supposed to tell you that. She didn’t want you to feel bad.”
Which makes the bowling ball in my stomach sink even lower. I never wanted to cause her pain.
“I was thinking of her every day I was gone,” I confess, a gravity in my voice I wasn’t expecting.
My sister stares at me, her head tipping to the side the slightest bit, as if I’m some alien creature. To be fair, we don’t share these kinds of things with each other.
“I spent this weekend with her,” I add, unable to help myself. “I couldn’t stay away.”
She huffs out a surprised breath, touching her fingers to her mouth. “You have feelings for her? Like, serious ones?”
I swallow roughly, my throat suddenly tight, and nod. It’s the truth. I can’t deny it to myself anymore.
Her face clears and she reaches forward to hug me. “Holy crap, Grayson.”
My knees sway for a moment, surprised at the sudden lightness that fills me at Kristen’s acceptance.
“I know things are complicated,” she says, her arms still around me. “But I hope you two can work something out. I want you both to be happy.”
“All right, too mushy. You crossed the line.”
She laughs and leans away. “Fair enough. So, spoiler alert, I told the twins we’re coming up to visit you in the summer and it’s all they’re focused on now.”
I sling an arm over her shoulder as we head down the hallway. “Wait, seriously? You all are going to come up to Seattle?”
“Yeah.” She pokes me in the ribs. “Your girlfriend convinced me.”
I pull up short at the entrance to the kitchen as Kristen continues on, crossing the room to join Eli, Owen, and Harper at the table. My girlfriend? Abby’s not my girlfriend. Actually, I don’t know what she is.
But I really like the sound of it.