Chapter 15
Noah
I launched to my feet to follow her, clumsily grabbing my wallet from my back pocket and muttering a curse as I spilled a few quarters I’d haphazardly tucked into my billfold.
She was already out the door, pushing her way through the crowd with their phones out, recording every second.
“Dude, go!” Neil called out to me from behind the counter. “I know you’re good for it.”
“Thanks, man,” I said.
Grumbling, I stuffed my money back into my pockets and grabbed the to-go box of cupcakes. If anything will get me back into her good graces, it would most likely be Neil’s magical cupcakes.
I rush out the door, gently pushing through the excited murmurs of the crowd filming me. “Which way did she go?” I asked the women loitering outside of Beefcakes.
An older woman who was probably around my mom’s age pointed East of the park, toward my mother’s house. “She went that way, darling.”
I look to my left and sure enough, I can see a blur of dark curly hair running in the entirely opposite direction of the Maple Grove Inn. Rosa, for all her amazing qualities, severely lacked any sense of direction.
“Thank you,” I told the woman.
“Get her flowers!” she called after me as I took off toward Rosa. “Women like flowers!”
“Noted!” I yell back over my shoulder and sprint off down the street, avoiding other pedestrians.
The crowd thinned out as I escaped the bachelorette crowd waiting in line at Beefcakes. Maple Grove was a tourist destination, but even in our busiest season, we were hardly ever packed with people. “Rosa!” I called out as I got close enough for her to hear me.
She glanced over her shoulder at me, but kept walking with a huff. “Leave me alone, Noah! I need some space.”
Fuck that. “Not out here you don’t.”
“Why? Is it dangerous here in Maple Grove? Are you afraid one of the twelve bakery owners in this town might come out of their shop and assault me with a baguette?”
Despite her anger, a smirk tugged at my lips. “A baguette?”
With a sigh, she whipped around to face me. “Seriously, how many bakeries and coffee shops does one tiny town need?” she said, gesturing wildly. “You’ve got your brother-in-law’s cafe, Latte Da. That Beefcakes one. The Pie Diner at the Inn?—”
“Elsa’s,” I corrected her. “Locals refer to her as a Piner because she has the best pie in town.”
She snorted. “Exactly. Why do you need a place that specializes in pie when you have a gazillion other bakeries! I mean look! There’s even a freaking food truck selling donuts?—”
“Well technically the food truck is owned by Neil’s brother. I’m not sure that counts.”
“Oh and let’s not forget this one… Shortcakes?—”
“Again, that’s not a bakery. It’s a bar. And also owned by Neil’s sister?—”
Defeated, she threw her hands in the air. “Well that family needs to learn some new skills other than baking!” she shrieked.
My eyes went wide at her ultrasonic tone.
“What?” she snapped.
“Nothing. I just had no idea you were so passionate about the bakery to square mileage ratio of New England.”
She crossed her arms and exhaled, causing a dark curl that fell across her forehead to lift and blow to the side of her temple. “I’m just frustrated.”
“Because of the kiss?”
She was quiet for a moment, her jaw twitching while I let her work out her thoughts. “Because of how the kiss was interrupted ,” she finally whispered. “I thought we were off the PR clock and then blam. Flashes in our face. It was like high school all over for me again.”
“I’m sorry. I wish I could say it gets better or easier, but it doesn’t.” Almost on cue, a photographer across the park caught my eye with a long lens pointed directly at us. Goddammit.
“Come here.” I slide my arm around her waist and turn us back in the direction of my mom’s house.
“Where are we going?”
“There’s a trail along the lake that goes to my mom’s house. I can guarantee there’s tons of privacy and it’s one of my favorite places in the world.”
She rolled her eyes at me. “I’ve been to your mom’s house already for the wedding, Noah.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t see this particular spot there.
” I guided her out of the town square behind the buildings to where the sidewalks disappeared and a dirt path took its place.
It was peaceful, serene. And leaves were beginning to shift to yellows and oranges, forgoing their usual greenery.
Even the lake looked orange as we finished the walk on the path and came to my mom’s dock.
“It’s beautiful back here,” she said, pausing to admire the water.
“If you think this is beautiful, just wait.” I took her hand and pulled her to our family’s second secluded dock hidden within a canopy of a massive tree with the steps carved into it and a ladder wedged against the trunk.
I held her hand as she climbed up to the treehouse my dad had built for me and Callie years ago.
It was beyond peaceful. The only sounds were of birds chirping in a nearby tree and water gently lapping against the shoreline.
“Is this your treehouse?”
I nodded. “My dad built it for us just before he died,” I said. “I don’t really remember him. Callie does. Or she claims she does. But I don’t know, it’s like I’ve blocked almost everything about him from my memory.”
Rosa peeked out of the window of the dirty treehouse. “I can see why this is one of your favorite places in the world.”
“I come up here every time I visit. A lot of times I’ll sleep out here instead of at the Inn or inside my old bedroom.”
Rosa chuckled and ran her hand along a built in bookshelf. “I would probably do the same thing. I’d spend all my time here if it was mine. I’d read my favorite psychology books curled up in a cozy chair. Drink tea. Hell, I’d make this my office if I lived in town.”
I laughed at that. “Your office? Well, at least the rent would be cheap. Though you would need to get the McGinty’s permission, too.” I pointed out the window to the house next door to ours. “Technically this tree is half on their property, too.”
“Shared treehouse custody?”
I shrugged. “Their grandkids are only here for two weeks every summer. We were happy to share. Besides, they always head to Florida after Labor Day every year. In high school, I used to come up here to practice my lines. Sometimes I’d find Mrs. McGinty up here secretly smoking.”
Rosa gaped at me. “Your older neighbor used to use the kid’s treehouse to smoke her cigarettes ? Who was this Mrs. Robinson?”
My face soured. “Can we not turn this memory into something weird? It wasn’t like that. I promised to keep her secret if she ran my lines with me.”
Rosa’s brows lifted. “You read lines with an old lady?”
I nodded. “She made a very handsome Juliet to my Romeo.”
“Handsome? Poor Mrs. McGinty.” Dimples appeared at either side of her mouth with her ringing laugh. The sun highlighted her bright eyes, turning their usual molten brown gold. She looked up at me, her lips parted slightly.
“What are the chances we could try that kiss again?” I asked, dragging my hand to her jaw and running my thumb across her dimple.
“Only if you promise to never describe me as a handsome woman.” Her eyes flared with humor, then drifted shut as I stepped into her, my hands lowering to grip her waist.
“Easiest promise ever,” I whispered, lowering my mouth to hers.
My heart raced as our lips met, a searing kiss that set off fireworks in my chest. She opened her lips to mine, gliding her tongue along the seam of my mouth with a demanding moan that spiked my heart rate.
A growl tore through my chest as her fingers dug into my biceps, leaving little half-moon marks on my flesh.
Every cell in my body frantically wanted more of Rosa.
More lips. More tongue. More hands. More flesh.
A breeze skimmed by us through the window of the treehouse, reminding me that even though this was my special spot and more private than the center of town, we were still in my family treehouse where Callie or my mom or even Maddie could come by at any minute.
I forced myself to pull away and climbed back down the base of the tree first, then helped Rosa down off the ladder.
Above us, leaves drifted down, floating on the breeze like surfers catching a wave; falling lightly around us like snowflakes, blanketing us in this moment until it felt like we were all alone in this beautiful world.
I leaned in and gave Rosa another short, but sweet kiss on the lips.
“Quack!”
Rosa came out of her haze, startling at me. “Did you just quack at me?”
“You think I’d quack at you after a kiss like that?”
“Well I don’t know. Someone quacked!”
A laugh bounced in my chest, shifting the mood right as a family of ducks and several ducklings came waddling out from beneath the dock.
"Isn't it a little late in the season for babies?" Rosa asked, stepping closer to them for a better look.
"You'd be surprised. A lot of birds nest a few times as soon as spring begins. I bet that's her second set of hatchlings this summer. Look, see you can tell the ones that are older."
Her brown eyes flashed, brightening with excitement. Her love of animals was one of the many things that drew me to Rosa initially. I reached into the donut box and pulled out the donut holes Neil had tossed in there for us.
Bending down, I broke the first donut hole into small bits and tossed them toward the ducks. One by one, they quacked in delight, waddling their little webbed feet over to us and wagging their tails in appreciation.
"I bet they would literally eat right out of the palms of our hands if we let them," Rosa giggled as a baby duck quacked and waddled around her ankles.
"Wait a minute..." I squinted, looking at a little white and tan ball of fur that was circling the mama duck. "That's not a duck."
Out from behind the mama duck, a small puppy came limping over to us. His leg seemed twisted and deformed, but he didn't seem to be in a lot of pain as he limped and played with the ducklings in the group.
"It looks like the ducks adopted him," Rosa said. "C'mere little guy." She held out a bit of the donut to the puppy. He ambled toward us playfully, taking the donut from her fingers and letting us pet his filthy head. “Do you think someone is looking for him?”
“I doubt it,” I said, reaching out to pet him.
Judging from the way his leg had set long enough to heal incorrectly, I was going to guess no one had been looking for him.
At least not for several weeks. More likely, he was probably born feral and I didn’t want to think about what might have happened to the rest of his family and siblings.
Although, nothing about his demeanor seemed feral. He bounced right up to us, happy, friendly, and ready to be pet.
“He looks like that dog from that old TV show…”
“Wishbone?” I asked.
She grinned at me. “I was going to say Frasier. But Wishbone works, too.”
The little guy impressively lifted onto his hind legs, placing his one good front paw on my shin, tail wagging and looking up at me with hopeful brown eyes. “You want more?”
I broke off another bit of the donut, feeding him. He couldn’t have been more than eight pounds, soaking wet.
"We can’t just leave him here. He needs to see a vet," Rosa said.
I handed the box of donuts to Rosa, then scooped him into my arms. He didn’t squirm or fight me at all. Instead, he sighed and settled into the crook of my bicep, giving me a quick kiss before his eyes drifted shut. “Come on, little guy.”
“Where are we going?” Rosa asked, keeping pace beside me.
“Lucky for all of us, I know the best veterinarian in a sixty mile radius. And he’s right here in town.”
And while my brother might be avoiding me, there was no way he’d turn away a dog in need.