9. Chapter Eight
Chapter Eight
Murphy
“ S o, what are their names?” Blyth asks, settling in next to me on the passenger side of my truck. We just finished returning her rental car and are ready to get this road trip underway. Although I urged her to fly back, she flat-out refused, citing my prior reluctance to attend. It’s silly, but even if I don’t show it, I’m glad for the company. The trip between Lustre Lake and Sweetheart Falls really isn’t too far. Should be about six hours—the plan is to do it all today, but maybe I can persuade her to stop somewhere for a night.
“Put your seatbelt on. My truck?” The little blonde’s mind whirs a mile a minute, so I have no idea who or what she’s talking about.
“No, silly, the chipmunks that you were leaving food out for before we left,” she sighs, and her eyes get dreamy thinking about the small woodland creatures. Taking a turn out of the rental parking lot, I head slowly down Main Street. The little town of Sweetheart Falls surrounds us filled with quaint shops and happy little fall decorations. Though I don’t love cities and crowds, this place has been perfect. Large enough to go unnoticed yet small enough to not trigger my PTSD.
“Chip and Dale do not have names,” I joke. “Wild animals aren’t pets.”
She lets out a soft giggle, the sweetest little sound, and it helps calm the churning of my stomach when my town disappears in the rearview mirror. I rarely ever leave the mountain, much less the entire town, and it makes nausea bubble inside.
“They look pretty domesticated to me,” she scoffs, bringing her knees to her chest and placing her feet on my dashboard. Surprisingly, the move doesn’t provoke my anger like it would if someone else was dirtying my car. “Don’t worry, Daddy, you’ll get home to your babies soon.”
I just smile at her gentle teasing, not annoyed in the least.
“They were just babies when I found them on my porch. Winter was rolling in, and they had been born at the wrong time. Not wanting them to die, I brought them into the house, and they lived with me through the winter. Now they mostly hang out back and have their burrows under the porch, but they often come inside when it snows,” I explain.
“That’s the sweetest. When I move back into my house, maybe I need a chipmunk. They sound independent. I’ve always wanted a pet, but I worry I won’t remember to keep them alive,” she tosses out, and more questions pile up in my mind. This woman is quite the puzzle, but I find myself all too eager to find out more.
“Why don’t you live in your house?”
She tucks her hair behind her ear, then grabs the ends and fiddles with them. Tension fills the cab of my truck, and I wish I could take the question back. Her silence is so loud that I wonder if I overstepped. Right as I’m about to fill the uncomfortable silence with an apology, she releases a long, exasperated sigh.
“It’s so damn embarrassing, but I accidentally set it on fire. I was practicing making cookies because Tilly offered me a job at her bakery, but like usual, I forgot about the oven and almost burned the whole house down. Luckily, there was just some damage to the kitchen, but it all needs to be repaired before I can move back in, according to my Fire Marshall ex.” During the whole explanation, Blyth barely stops to catch her breath, speaking so rapidly that it’s difficult to keep up, but I get the general drift. I glance over at her to find her big blue eyes staring at me like she’s waiting for judgment or condemnation. Fuck that shit. No one’s perfect, and I couldn’t care less that she can be forgetful.
“I’m glad you’re okay. That’s all that matters, Trouble.” Her eyes narrow on me, scrutinizing my face to search for any signs that I’m lying. She won’t find shit, though. I really like her, imperfections and all.
The highway is empty, so I set the cruise control and glance back over. Blyth’s jaw is locked, and she’s thinking so hard that there’s steam coming out of her ears.
“You don’t think it’s idiotic that I got so distracted that I burned my house down? I mean, that’s a serious red flag in a girlfriend.” Her hand slaps over her mouth as soon as that word pops out, but I like where her head is. This tryst is feeling more and more serious and less like a one-night stand. “Shit. I didn’t mean…”
“Hey. Let’s not close ourselves off from the possibility. I say we keep getting to know one another and enjoy this wedding together,” I say, unable to make any large declarations but wanting her to know that her feelings aren’t completely one-sided. She swallows hard before nodding.
“Wedding date. I like that. I can work with that,” she agrees with a grin. My hand slides over the console to grab hers, slotting our fingers together like a puzzle. I give her a squeeze, and a breathy sigh bursts from her cherry-red lips. The noise goes straight to my cock, making it twitch uncomfortably below my zipper.
I’ll never stop wanting her.
“Did you know they’re having the wedding by our town’s magical lake?”
“I’m sorry. What?” I splutter. Not sure I heard her right.
“Oh yeah! Didn’t you wonder why it was scheduled for a Wednesday? I mean, who gets married in the middle of the week?”
Maybe she’s right…but I hadn’t thought about it. I open my mouth, but she’s already talking again, reciting a poem.
“If it is true love you seek,
Search before the new moon’s peak.
Climb the mountain, standing tall,
Until you find the path so small.
This will take you to fates lake,
Now, the chance is yours to take.
And if Destiny smiles on your endeavor,
Then you shall live, Happily Ever, Forever.”
She finishes, then smiles at me expectantly.
“So why does the wedding need to be Wednesday? Isn’t the lake there all the time?” I ask, not getting the message.
“Oh, well, yeah. The lake doesn’t disappear. But Wednesday is the night of the new moon, so it’s extra special for them because it’s a big part of how they got together.”
“Sounds kind of silly. A lake can’t make you fall in love,” I say, cringing when she turns a wicked glare my way. Okay, I guess maybe Trouble believes in the magic voodoo lake, too.
Retreat. Retreat.
“How are the feet feeling?” I ask, changing the topic.
“Much better today. Thanks! Gotta keep the moneymakers looking good,” she tosses out, and once again, I find myself confused, so I laugh like I’m in on the joke. “Oh, I love this song!”
Blyth cranks up the sound to some country song I’ve never heard of. She sings along, her voice closer to a caterwaul than an actual song, but the happiness surrounding her makes it all worth it. I’ll take the bleeding eardrums if it will keep her looking at me just like that.
Forever?
The errant thought makes a shiver run down my spine. Between my PTSD, anger issues, and just preferring solitude, I never considered having a woman for keeps—but something about her just pulls me in like a moth to a flame. I should fight this harder. I know I should, but being around Blyth makes me feel lighter. She takes all my focus so that my worries melt away.