Chapter 8
Almost a week passes after Pride before Eleanor sees Dani again.
Even days later, a wave of mortification rolls over her every time she thinks about what she might have said or done. For all she knows, she might have completely lost her head and told the entire bar whom she works for, not just Naomi. It’s all a blank space in her memory. On top of that issue, she’d been far too obvious in her attraction to Dani, which she has no plans to act on.
What Pride makes clear to her is that getting some space from the group is for the best. She needs to get back to reality, and it’s as good an excuse as any to finally get back to work on the project she’s been ignoring since she started spending more time in town.
After a day to recover from her crippling hangover, Eleanor drives around the back roads yet again, careful not to hit any major bumps this time, more determined than ever to find the old development site she’s been searching for. Unlike during her last search, Eleanor actually gets out of the car this time to trek into the woods—she doubts that it’ll be conveniently labelled, but she has coordinates and a maps app and a whole afternoon to look. She even has better shoes this time.
Even so, she still isn’t used to hiking. It’s slow going, guided only by an increasingly patchy cell signal. She wades through bugs and underbrush and climbs over jutting pieces of rock, sweating through her shirt and flinching at every strange-looking plant that could be poison ivy. And after she’s gone just far enough that she’s not sure she could find her way back alone, her phone unhelpfully notifies her that she has no service at all.
“Of course,” Eleanor sighs to no one, glaring down at the blinking icon.
By the time she finds what might be a faint trail to follow through the woods, she still hasn’t located the parcel of land she’s looking for. She’s lost in a sea of trees, a mix of tall pines and shorter birches. She sits on a nearby rock, tiredly pulling out her notebook to jot down the area she thinks she’s explored while she decides which way to follow the path.
“Would it kill them to put up a fucking cell tower?” Eleanor mutters, scribbling in messier lines than usual. “Try to keep people from getting stranded in the forest like a goddamn ’80s slasher movie? How many lost hikers does it take to—”
She stops abruptly and almost drops the notebook when she hears a rustling to her left. Her brain jumps to the worst-case scenario—snarling animals, deadly snakes, a long and tragic death alone in the woods—until a voice rings out.
“Nora?”
Eleanor jumps up from her rock, whirling around to see Naomi coming up the trail. She’s dressed to hike, with long pants tucked into her boots and her curls pulled back from her face as she moves easily through the trees.
Eleanor quickly shoves the notebook into her bag.
“God, you scared me,” Eleanor says, pressing a hand against her chest where her heart is working in overdrive. “I thought you might be a bear.”
“Mostly coyotes and deer in this area,” Naomi says, stopping when she reaches Eleanor to lean on her long walking stick. “Doing a little hiking?”
Eleanor’s mouth goes dry. Her anxious heart isn’t calming down—it’s speeding up, pumping away the seconds before her lack of answer becomes awkward. Telling Naomi what she’s really doing out here is not the best idea, but at the same time, the idea of outright lying now when she’s spent so much time with Dani and her friends makes her a little nauseous. Straddling the line between the two is becoming a delicate game.
“You probably won’t be shocked to hear that I’m lost,” Eleanor says instead.
Naomi’s smile is far gentler than Eleanor deserves. “If you follow the trail back the way I came, it’ll bring you to the road. Near the creek?”
Eleanor can vaguely remember driving past a creek—if she can get back to a road, she’s sure she can follow it long enough to find her car. It takes a weight off her shoulders, and Eleanor sits back down on the rock with a sigh. “Thank you. Cell service out here is so patchy.”
Naomi doesn’t seem angry like she would be if Eleanor had blabbed anything important at the party, which is an immediate relief. With that confirmed, she’s probably the perfect person to talk to to get to the bottom of how Eleanor acted around Dani that night.
“I come out here all the time to get away from it all,” Naomi says, looking up at the canopy above them shifting in a breeze blocked by the woods down below. Sunshine is peeking through, casting dancing spots of light onto the plants Eleanor has been wading through. “We used to spend a lot of time out here as kids. Even had my first kiss in these woods.”
There’s a wistfulness to the way she says it that piques Eleanor’s interest. She raises an eyebrow. “Sounds like an adventure.”
“Sarah and I were practicing for boys. Tale as old as time.”
Naomi’s presence puts Eleanor surprisingly at ease—not quite like Dani does, but significant enough that she doesn’t feel like the conversation is forced.
Naomi chuckles when Eleanor flinches and smacks at a mosquito that lands on her arm, missing and then swatting at it as it buzzes around her face, but it feels good-natured. “I take it you’re not a great enjoyer of the outdoors?”
“I enjoy watching it from my windows,” Eleanor drawls, satisfied that the insect is finally gone. “How do you find the time to hike? With only one other doctor in town, I assumed your schedule would be packed.”
“I make time for the things I love.”
Eleanor hums. “What’s that like?”
“Difficult, but worth it,” Naomi says. She sits next to Eleanor on her rock and unzips her backpack, pulling out a water bottle and taking a long drink. “You aren’t doing so bad—Dani says you’re on vacation, right?”
“ Work cation, really,” Eleanor admits. “I don’t think I know how to distance myself from it completely.”
Naomi nods. “Sounds familiar. Between you and me, this being my hometown means a few too many patients have my cell number. The lack of service out here means it’s just about the only place I’m totally unavailable.”
The otherwise pleasant conversation is spiked with a lance of fresh guilt.
Eleanor has never understood why anyone would cling to remote, unmanaged backwoods like this when something more useful could be there instead, but seeing Naomi so at home here is a new perspective she didn’t expect. Whatever budding friendship they seem to be building could very well end when Naomi finds out whose company is responsible for developing her favourite hiking trails, even if it’s a net positive for the region.
In the recesses of Eleanor’s mind, the seeds of doubt that have been germinating since Dani took her to the tree house continue to grow.
“Speaking of Dani,” Eleanor says, seizing on the moment of quiet to change the subject and bite the bullet, “at Pride, you and I spent some time talking, right? Did I…say anything?”
Naomi snorts. “You said lots of things.”
“Oh God. That’s what I was worried about.” Eleanor groans and buries her face in her hands, mentally shuffling through all the inside thoughts she might have said out loud—the fact that Naomi is speaking to her with kindness means she didn’t spill the CromTech beans, but anything else is free game. And her thoughts have been particularly R-rated lately.
“Nothing too bad,” Naomi says, patting Eleanor’s knee. “At least, nothing Dani wouldn’t like to hear.” She stands up, throwing her backpack over her shoulder. “I should be getting back to it. Enjoy the trails, Nora. Try to relax; it’s good for your blood pressure.”
Eleanor is left alone as Naomi’s footsteps fade. She glances down the trail in the direction Naomi said the road would be, but she doesn’t get up yet—instead of rushing out of the woods, she closes her eyes.
The absence of her previous anxiety around being lost makes an immediate difference. The things she’d been ignoring now clamour for her attention. She can hear the chorus of birdsong and the wind in the trees. She can smell the fresh air, light and summery, a mix of warm soil and leaves and a hint of wildflowers. When she opens her eyes, it’s to a forest that seems changed. Less chaotic. An ecosystem managing itself entirely without her input.
When Eleanor tries to imagine what it will all look like after development, it leaves a strange sensation in the pit of her stomach.
Before she heads back to the road, she pulls out her book to scrawl a note in the margin.
Preserve hiking trails.
* * *
Eleanor manages to write some more of her proposal in just under a week of focused work, even without a survey of the sold land she was looking for. It’s a complex series of necessities with rezoning and infrastructure—there’s a need for things like parking and dining, for example—but once completed, it should be exactly what she hoped: Luxury homes and cottages on the river shoreline would turn the land into a money-maker. A resort or wellness retreat could bring more tourists to the area, and if CromTech can manage to snatch up some of the many empty storefronts in Riverwalk at lowered prices, it’ll be easy to sell to businesses later.
It’s hard to put much effort into finishing it up, though, when those seeds of doubt that Dani and Naomi planted have turned into saplings—persistent, nagging whispers about whether this whole thing is as good an idea as she originally thought. Every time she opens her laptop, she keeps seeing images of what Dani’s face might look like if she found out that Eleanor was responsible for bulldozing her favourite creek.
Eleanor means to stay away from Dani until she leaves town. It’s partly embarrassment—the suspicion that she said something unsavoury at Pride solidified by Naomi’s comment—but it’s also partly the knowledge that with the survey and proposal well underway, the end of Eleanor’s time in Riverwalk is approaching faster than ever. Her anonymity is coming to an end. There’s no sense continuing to get attached.
A few days after making this resolution, Eleanor finds herself staring at a kitchen sink that refuses to drain.
She could deal with it herself. There’s probably a plumber or a handyman in town somewhere, findable with a quick Google search. But in her head, she hears Naomi’s voice— nothing Dani wouldn’t like to hear.
Somehow, Eleanor ends up searching a completely different name.
“Cooper’s Tire and Auto, Dani speaking!”
Dani’s voice, warm and soothing even through a phone line, makes Eleanor’s stomach do a funny sort of twist. She has to clear her throat before she can speak.
“Dani, hi. It’s Nora.”
“Hey, you!” Dani says, clearly enthused.
Her happy tone makes Eleanor relax a little bit. She feels like a teenager, calling her crush and twirling the landline cord around her finger.
“Long time no talk,” Dani says.
There’s no disapproval or upset in her voice, but, even so, Eleanor feels the need to apologize. “Yes, I’m…sorry about that. I’ve been a bit busy.”
“Oh, it’s okay,” Dani says easily, and Eleanor can see in her mind’s eye the casual wave Dani is probably doing. In the background of Dani’s line, some kind of hydraulic tool is buzzing. “What can I do ya for?”
“My sink isn’t working,” Eleanor says.
“You know this is an auto shop and not a plumbing service, right?”
Eleanor’s cheeks heat up. “I know. I just thought—well, I don’t know the businesses around here. I thought you could recommend someone?”
Eleanor hears the scratchy, muffled sound of the receiver being covered and a muted yell. After a moment, Dani is back, sounding cheery.
“I’ll be there in a couple minutes!”
“Oh, no,” Eleanor says, shaking her head at nobody, alone in her kitchen. “No, you’re at work. I just need a number to call.”
“Don’t be silly. I can fix it! Just give me a minute to grab my tool box, okay?”
Dani hangs up without confirmation. As the dial tone sounds in her ear, Eleanor looks around—at her cluttered kitchen, at her own pyjamas and slippers and her messy morning hair—and suddenly her body kicks into overdrive.
“Shit,” Eleanor mutters, throwing the phone onto the table. “ Shit .”
She has approximately fifteen minutes before Dani gets here, and she needs to get herself ready faster than she ever has before.
Eleanor changes her clothes in a whirlwind, grabbing the first sundress she can find and throwing her hair into a bun. She foregoes contact lenses, shoving her glasses onto her face instead. She brushes her teeth while she frantically tidies the kitchen, the toothbrush hanging out of her mouth precariously, and by the time the doorbell rings, she’s feeling at least borderline presentable.
She opens the door to find Dani in cargo pants, a grubby tank, and the same blue-and-red flannel she wore over her Freddie Mercury outfit.
Eleanor resents how much it’s working for her.
“Come on in,” Eleanor says, trying to keep her voice even.
Dani whistles as she steps inside. “Wow. Nice place! Fancy.”
“I mostly rent it for the location,” Eleanor replies, leading Dani toward the kitchen. The whole sunny bay opens up outside the big windows, and Dani drapes her flannel shirt over the back of a kitchen stool.
“No kidding. Beautiful view,” Dani says, stepping up to the windows and peering out toward the river. The natural light makes her glow as the rays catch in her hair and make her sun-soaked skin look golden.
“Yeah,” Eleanor says weakly. Her mouth has gone dry. “Beautiful.”
“You must do pretty well for yourself in that corporate job of yours. Maybe I should switch fields,” Dani says, grinning.
“I wouldn’t recommend it unless you really like being tangled in bureaucracy and not getting to pursue the projects you care about.”
“Like what?”
“Biofuels, carbon reduction, more sustainable product lines,” Eleanor lists, sighing heavily. “The tech sector tends to favour easy products. Quick to make, quick to break. Try to pitch anything else and they act like you’ve asked them to declare bankruptcy.”
Dani leans against the kitchen island, folding her arms. “Wow. So you’re trying to save the world.”
There’s something soft in her smile—Eleanor is used to Dani’s big, slightly crooked grin, but this one is gentler. It crinkles at the corners of her eyes.
“God, no. Nothing as exciting as that,” Eleanor says, laughing a little. “Just trying to make a dent.”
Dani’s smile stays soft. “Still pretty cool. I hope you get to do all those projects someday.”
“Me, too,” Eleanor sighs, thinking of the document with her solution in it currently sitting unfinished on her computer.
Dani gets to work soon after, opening the cupboard underneath the sink and sliding in on her back to fiddle with the pipes, and Eleanor tries very hard to maintain a conversation instead of staring blatantly at the sliver of Dani’s stomach peeking out the hem of her shirt.
“How’s it going down there?” Eleanor asks, cringing the moment the words leave her mouth. It makes her glad that Dani’s face is obscured by the cupboard door.
“It’s good! I don’t think this has been serviced in a while,” Dani remarks, grabbing blindly at one of the scattered tools on the floor.
“Are you a handyman as well as a mechanic?” Eleanor asks, nudging the wrench toward Dani’s grasping hand. Dani truly seems to be a jack of all trades.
“Cars aren’t the only thing I’m good at fixing up.”
Heat blooms embarrassingly quickly in Eleanor’s abdomen, zipping immediately down to settle between her legs.
It was benign, Dani’s statement—she definitely wasn’t referring to all the ways her talented hands could be put to work fixing every ache in Eleanor’s body. But Eleanor’s traitorous brain runs with it like a dog let loose, sprinting into the distance.
Without warning, something bursts under the sink.
Dani swears loudly. Water starts spraying out at an alarming volume, and Eleanor’s inappropriate thoughts are literally and figuratively hosed down.
“Shit!” Dani sputters, trying unsuccessfully to stop the flow with her hands. “Forgot to turn the water off—”
“What do I do?” Eleanor asks loudly, all thirst forgotten in the wake of her kitchen flooding.
“There’s a valve under here somewhere!”
Eleanor rips open all the cupboard doors and finds it beside her stock of cleaning supplies. She cranks the knob with slippery hands until the water finally stops, then steps gingerly over the puddles now covering her floor to find Dani still lying under the sink, now soaked completely. Her pale-blue tank top is almost see-through now but probably the cleanest it’s ever been.
Eleanor has to look away again to hide what she’s sure is a flush creeping up her neck. The fabric clings to Dani’s skin, leaving little to the imagination—Dani’s muscular frame very clearly extends beyond her arms. Her midsection is just as solid, firm muscle under an appealing layer of softness over her belly.
Eleanor wants to press her hands against that softness, to feel the strength beneath. She wants to dig into the swell of Dani’s hips peeking over the waist of her cargo pants to pull her forward. Use them like handles to keep Dani close as the blonde settles between her thighs, flashing that confident grin, thrusting forward—
Eleanor bites down hard on her lip. The pain doesn’t help much.
It’s not the first time Eleanor has succumbed to such fantasies, but it’s the first time they’ve felt this overwhelming when Dani is actually in the room with her. Still wrestling with the images, Eleanor says the first thing that comes to her mind.
“Do you want some iced tea?”
Eleanor winces again. The idea was a diversion, something to keep her busy while Dani dries off, but as she brings a glass of cold tea and a towel over to the very wet mechanic still sitting on her kitchen floor, Eleanor can’t ignore the fact that she’s essentially invited Dani into a porno.
It’s even more uncomfortable when Dani takes the offered glass, downing it in a few seconds while Eleanor watches a droplet of water slide down the side of her neck.
“Thanks!” Dani says, putting the empty glass above her on the counter and wiping her mouth uselessly with the back of her also-wet arm. “Hold on, I almost had it. It’ll be fixed in a jiffy.”
Dani’s wholesomeness is enough to bring Eleanor back to the present. She clears her throat, getting herself a glass of cold water from the fridge dispenser and covertly holding it against her warm forehead.
Under the sink, Dani speaks up again. “You coming to the festival this weekend?”
“I thought we just had a festival?” Eleanor says, moving the cool glass down to her chest.
“This one is for Canada Day.” Dani is talking loudly over the clattering of tools and pipes. “We do it every year. It used to bring a lot of tourists up here, but now it’s mostly locals.”
“Is it going to be anything like last weekend? Because I don’t think I can do that again.”
Dani laughs, peering out between the pipes at Eleanor. “No, it’s much tamer. There’s a potluck and a bit of a party. Usually some fireworks. Sometimes we do a tractor pull.” After a final-sounding grinding noise, Dani finally emerges from the cupboard victorious. Her wet ponytail is starting to fall out.
“All done!” Dani says, pulling herself to her feet and wiping her hands off on her damp pants. “You just had a little blockage. All good now.”
“Thanks. I feel like I should repay you somehow,” Eleanor says without thinking.
It’s hard not to groan in disappointment at herself. She can practically hear the raunchy background music playing in whatever low-budget adult film her brain is determined to act out.
“You could come,” Dani says brightly.
The glass slips from Eleanor’s hand.
The noise of it hitting the floor feels like a gunshot—the mental images Eleanor has been trying to hold back are spilling forward again, and Dani is smiling like nothing is wrong with her statement.
“I could—you want—what?” Eleanor sputters. She can tell her face has turned crimson, even though all the blood in her body seems to be rushing elsewhere, but Dani doesn’t seem bothered. She beats Eleanor to bending down and grabbing the thankfully unshattered cup, setting it on the counter where it’s safe.
“To the festival,” Dani clarifies. She’s smiling, but Eleanor can’t tell if she’s aware of the exact effect of her words.
“Oh. Right. Of course,” Eleanor says. Her heart is still racing. She can’t quite determine if she’s feeling disappointed or not. “Obviously.”
“Is that a yes?”
“I guess I’ve never been to a potluck before,” Eleanor says. The last thing she needs is another town event to potentially embarrass herself, but at this point she just needs to get Dani out the door without another horrific double entendre. “Or a tractor pull.”
“Seriously? Never?” Dani gasps, packing up her tools. “Okay, you’ve gotta come. I’ll drive you.”
Dani leaves with a promise to pick her up on Saturday at one o’clock, and her truck has already trundled down the driveway before Eleanor notices that Dani’s flannel is still draped over one of her kitchen stools.
The shirt is unreasonably soft when Eleanor picks it up with the intention of hanging it near the front door so that she doesn’t forget to give it back. Soft and warm and slightly oversized. And Eleanor’s house can get so cold at night. Until she sees Dani on Saturday, it can’t hurt to wear it sometimes.
The fact that it noticeably smells like Dani when she wears it to bed is completely secondary. As is the way that sleep eludes her, leaving her tossing and turning in the flannel, pursued by images of Dani in her translucent tank top. Of Dani slotting between her legs, pressing against the heated core of her. Calloused hands encircling her wrists, pinning them above her head. Warm lips covering her own in an imaginary kiss that curls her toes.
Maybe it’s wrong to do this. She’s breaking her own rule about acting on her attraction, but this tension has been building for weeks now, and more than anything Eleanor needs relief. She needs her own shaky hand between her legs, a poor substitute for the one she wants but enough nonetheless.
With Dani’s name on her lips, Eleanor does as Dani asked. She comes, faster and harder than she has in a long time, all the while thinking about rough hands, blue eyes, and the smell of engine oil.