Chapter 25 #2
I told myself I’d never let my worlds collide—bookish host and local firefighter. Now I’m days away from tearing down the divide. First Daisy, now this. What is happening to me?
“And you’re sure she didn’t already know who you were when she reached out?”
“Huh.” It never occurred to me that M&M could have known who I was. I think through our interactions.
“No. I think it’s random, a freak serendipitous coincidence—as unlikely as that is. We only found out we’re both locals last week when she asked to meet up.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I want to meet her. But I feel like I’m pursuing two women at once, and that’s not something I’d ever do. And yet, I’m actually not pursuing either of them.”
Cody chuckles. “Man.”
“What would you do?” My voice sounds as desperate as I feel.
“You ought to meet this online friend. You’re not in a committed relationship.
If a woman you enjoy wants to meet you and the woman who hates you still isn’t giving you the time of day outside of one passionate kiss that she put a stop to …
Well, the answer’s obvious.” He nods as if he’s solved the dilemma.
“Pick the woman who’s holding the door open. ”
“Picking women?” Dustin barges out through the door leading into the bay. “Patrick’s picking women? Are we talking fictional women, or real women here?”
“We’re not talking at all,” I say with a little more finality than I intended. “I was talking to Cody.”
Dustin looks dejected. He’s literally a puppy in every sense of the word. His face resembles a golden retriever caught chewing his master’s shoe.
“I’ll keep you posted if there’s ever anything worth actually sharing,” I assure Dustin.
He instantly smiles. “Okay, Mr. September.”
It’s not that Dustin can’t keep a secret.
Despite his chronic enthusiasm, he’d do his best. But his girlfriend is close friends with Daisy.
That stuff gets tricky around here. I don’t want to put him in the position where he’d have to hide something so intriguing from Emberleigh—especially if my feelings aren’t going to lead to anything but confusion and me playing an adult game of hide-and-seek around town.
Cody’s silence speaks volumes. I glance at him. He doesn’t even look up from his task.
My secrets are safe with him.
I’ve effectively evaded Daisy for three days since the kiss.
This morning I left the station with twenty-four unstructured hours before I return.
I recorded the next podcast episode first thing when I got home.
Thoughts of the fictional kingdoms of Florin and Guilder, Westley, Buttercup and rodents of unusual size are still running through my mind as I pull onto the property where our annual Fall Festival will be held.
I’ve been voluntold to be here to help with setup today.
I’d do it anyway, but Captain insisted each one of us help in some significant role before, during or after the festival.
It doesn’t escape me that this will be the site of my first meeting with M&M.
I pull my car onto the gravel next to a number of other vehicles—including my neighbor’s car. My eyes rove across the grassy expanse, the cornfield in the distance, the barn, and all the townspeople milling around.
I didn’t know Daisy would be here.
With both hands poised on my steering wheel, I consider my options. I could back my car out of this spot, call Captain and tell him I don’t feel well. I don’t now—that’s a fact. Or, I could man up and admit I’m going to have to face her at some point.
Blowing out a long breath, I decide to face my fate sooner than later.
People are scattered around the property, erecting booths, arranging hay bales, setting up the bandstand, decorating the massive whitewashed barn on the property. I look around for Clementine, eager to get busy doing something with the nervous energy coursing through me.
Instead of Clementine, my eyes land on Daisy. She’s holding a wadded up bunting in her arms and laughing with a group of volunteers. She pivots and our eyes lock. She shuts hers. And then she turns slightly and moves on as if she never saw me.
Okay. So, we’re ignoring one another. Can’t really blame her. After all, I’ve been avoiding her for days.
“Patrick!” Clementine shouts out to me. She’s carrying a clipboard and striding across the lawn like a woman on a mission.
I meet her halfway.
“I’m so glad you could make it. I need you to …” She glances at the list on her clipboard. “Ah. Yes. Hang the bunting from pole to pole. Daisy has it. You can check with her. I’ve already told her how to attach the rope to each support.”
Well, shoot me. Shoot me now. I want to ask for another assignment, but I imagine that will go over as well, or worse, than it does when I beg off something with Captain. So, I just say, “Okay,” and then I gird myself and walk toward Daisy.
She’s standing near the bottom of a pole, looking up at it as if it’s going to bend down so she can tie the bunting to the top.
I walk up behind her, close enough to catch the faint hint of cinnamon. My hand itches to brush the loose strand of hair from her cheek, but I fist it at my side instead.
“Some jobs call for the little giant,” I say.
She jumps and spins around. “O’Connell!”
I raise one brow and stare down at her. “Clark.”
“What are you doing here?” She crosses her arms, bunching the bunting against her chest.
“I’m on setup duty. You?”
“Avoiding you.” She smirks, but a blush rises on her cheeks.
“How’s that working for you?”
“Not as well as I’d hoped.”
“Hold that thought.” I raise my pointer. “I’ll get a ladder.”
“No.” Daisy shoves the wad of bunting at my chest. Her hand barely brushes across my shirt, but it’s enough to recall the heat of her palm there when she kissed me—and pushed me away just as quickly.
“I’ll get it. You stay here … and … just … Stay. Here,” she sputters.
“Got it. I’ll just stay … here.”
She narrows her eyes at me. My heartbeat thrums rapidly beneath my balled fists. She doesn’t have a clue since I’m playing it way cooler than I feel.
I watch her storm off, trail Joe Stevens, and refuse his offer to carry the ladder. Then she half-drags, half-hauls it toward me, chin set. I let her—though every instinct in me says to close the distance and help.
“Shut it, O’Connell,” she says when she’s about ten feet away.
“Consider it shut, Daisy.”
Her eyes narrow again.
She opens the ladder and then extends one arm. I unload part of the bunting into it, holding onto the other half.
“You had to volunteer to hang the bunting? You couldn’t … I don’t know … Maybe set up the bandstand?”
“Clementine asked me to help you.”
“Hmph.” She turns and steps up the ladder.
I sort through the tangled bunting, attempting to make it easier for her to find the end.
She avoids my eyes. I watch her—because I can’t look away.
When I find the loose end, I say, “Here. This should work.”
She snatches it out of my hand, climbs up one more step and loops the end through the hole at the top of the pole.
“Walk away, O’Connell,” she commands as she descends the ladder.
From you? I don’t think I can.
I stand in place and she shakes her head. “Toward the next pole?”
“Oh. Yes. Are you sure you want to be the one looping the rope through?”
“Want? I want to live in a world where we didn’t ever … Where you … Where I … Ugh. Yes. I’m sure. You just stand there, being tall and handing me the bunting when I’m ready.”
Her tone is so resolute and commanding, I almost salute her.
Instead, I trail her for the next half hour—close enough to catch the swish of her ponytail, the scrape of her boots on the ladder rungs, the sounds of her sighs.
Each time she stretches above me, I have to clamp my hands around the bunting to stop myself from steadying her.
White-knuckled restraint masquerading as unaffected helpfulness.
Our kiss hangs between us, invisible yet threaded into every brush of our fingers, every awkward silence, every small gust of air when she steps down and I almost—but don’t—reach to catch her.
When did I become a man so bound in messy entanglements? Maybe the second I kissed Daisy. Maybe the moment she kissed me back. Maybe when I agreed to let my online world bleed into the real one. Either way, I’ve crossed a line I can’t uncross.
Tomorrow, M&M will be waiting right here. At least one woman is looking forward to seeing me.