Chapter 24
SHA
Daisy tugs on Bryce’s hand when she glares at the sign in front of us.
Oak Point Pumpkin Patch is scrawled across it in thick, hand-painted orange letters and sandwiched between pumpkins of all sizes.
They look absolutely nothing like the real pumpkins sprawled all over the field.
These ones look like they’ll melt into puddles of goo before we even make it to Halloween.
“There are so many traditions we could start that don’t involve this,” Bryce says.
Daisy pulls her forward, and I follow. “Like? Name one.”
“We already do matching costumes for Halloween.”
“Only because you can’t stand me dressing up as something that doesn’t match you. Plus, we don’t include Shade in that tradition.”
I chuckle under my breath when Bryce glares at me.
“Are we in a threesome and I just haven’t realized it?” she asks.
Draping my arm over Bryce’s shoulder, I reach past her and tap Daisy’s earlobe. “That would be impossible. You’d never forget that if it were the case.”
“Exactly. Warm up, Frosty. This is what friends do. They go out and do things that don’t include drinking beer at a bar or getting a tattoo,” Daisy pushes.
Bryce shrugs my arm off but doesn’t shove me away. I’ve been under her skin for a long damn time now, and there’s no plucking me out. She’s my friend, and I like to keep my friends. I do just about anything to ensure they don’t leave, actually.
It’s either my biggest character flaw or the one thing I should be most proud of. I haven’t decided yet.
“If I warm up any more, I’ll melt,” Bryce says.
I smirk. “And we didn’t even have to dump a bucket of water on you first.” Her elbow finds my side, and I clutch it dramatically. “Christ, woman.”
“We’re staying right here and waiting for your guest,” she tells me pointedly.
Brows twitching, I ask, “What guest?”
Bryce has this look in her eye now. It’s too similar to smugness to have me ignoring it. I push her on this, already having a sinking suspicion about what she did when she was busy texting on the way here.
“Millie. I thought you’d enjoy not third-wheeling.”
Daisy giggles, unable to help herself, while I try not to tell her fiancée off about it.
Normally, Bryce inviting Millie wouldn’t piss me off, but today isn’t a normal day.
I’m strung tight since last night, and I thought I’d use my only real day off this week to try and clear my head.
Jacking off in the shower this morning to the phantom feel of her mouth around my dick didn’t do a fucking thing to help.
So, I came here with them, hoping for a distraction.
Should’ve clarified that to Bryce.
“Why do you look like that?” she asks me, tension gathering between her brows.
“Like what?”
“Did she piss you off?”
“No. I’m not sure she’d know how to do that.”
“So, you’re just upset that I invited her?”
“Let him breathe, Bryce,” Daisy says lightly, rubbing her arm.
This is Bryce in all her glory. From the moment I met her as a reckless teenager trying to find her footing, she’s had this sharp edge. Not cruel out of anger but out of love. I’ve always said her love language is attitude. Right now, she’s fluent.
Daisy’s the only one who softens her. Instead of a cement shell, she’s gooey inside.
“I’m starting to think you don’t want to hang out with me anymore. You keep dropping me off in Millie’s arms,” I joke, trying to lighten the mood.
Daisy frowns, shaking her head. “That’s not true. You’re always welcome to be with us.”
“I know, baby girl.” I smooth a hand down her hair before staring at Bryce. She lets the fire in her eyes dim. “And I know what you’re trying to do.”
“What’s that?” she asks bluntly.
“She’s not here to stay, and I’m not getting mixed up in that.”
Bryce keeps her expression blank, trying to make me crack. “Who?”
“Millie is my friend,” I say firmly.
“For now.”
I groan, glancing at the cloudy sky before looking back at her. “Let it go.”
“The whole playboy thing is old, Shade. It’s worn out. Find a different personality trait.”
“You make it sound like I’ve been flashing my dick on Main Street. I haven’t slept with anyone in months,” I mutter.
And it’s going to stay like that.
Bryce tilts her head, looking too closely at me. My skin tightens under the scrutiny of it.
“Spend a few hours with her outside of work. Get to know her,” she encourages mildly.
The dick she thinks causes all of my problems kicks in my jeans at the mention of just how much time we have spent together outside of the studio. I roll my jaw and nod stiffly, ready for the conversation to end.
“She’s coming right now?”
“Yep. Pretty sure that’s her fancy fucking car pulling in right now.”
Daisy hums, following our stares. “It’s dirty. Someone should take it to the car wash for her.”
“No better place than the campground. A handwash would have it sparkling,” Bryce joins in.
I fight not to laugh. They don’t need to know that I’m enjoying their attempt at matchmaking. Honestly, as annoying as it is, it’s cute.
“I think she’s capable of washing her own car,” I reply.
Millie climbs out, and the first thing I notice is her goddamn heels.
They dig into the ground but don’t pierce through.
Not now that the ground has started to harden.
We haven’t had the first frost of the year yet, but it’s coming soon.
That’s why Daisy insisted that today was our last chance to pick a pumpkin.
“You need to get her out of those things,” Bryce tells me, focused on the same thing I am. “She’s one hole in the ground away from a broken ankle and a lawsuit.”
“You try it and tell me how it goes,” I mutter.
Head turning left and right, Millie starts toward where we’re waiting, not noticing us yet.
She’s in a light pink, lace-sleeved dress today, this one brushing the tops of her knees instead of her mid-thigh, along with a matching jacket.
The sheer socks she has on have lace and a slight ruffle around the ankle and somehow don’t look as fucking ridiculous as I’d have thought they would.
Somehow, they look right in place inside her white high heels.
I force myself not to go to her first and help lead her over to the women beside me. It’s not my place to help her with small shit like this. That’s a job for someone else.
“Millie!” Daisy calls, waving wildly. “Over here!”
Bryce watches Daisy, taking in her excitement with a subtle—damn near impossible to catch—hint of a pout. Fuck me, that never gets old.
“She looks like she pisses money,” Bryce says, almost to herself once she removes her eyes from Daisy.
“You did once upon a time too,” I remind her.
She bares her teeth at me. “Don’t remind me.”
Millie waves back at Daisy and makes her way over to us. I feel the moment she notices me. Like the universe pinched my chin and held it in place so I can’t look away. She smiles softly, nervously, and I swallow.
Her eyes scan the crowd, posture perfect, but her fingers twist around the strap of her purse.
Even from here, I can tell she’s unsure.
Still walking like she’s got eyes on her, still trying not to show the crack beneath the polish.
It’s a trained behaviour. The kind that gets beaten into your head every day of your life.
Suddenly, I want to bump against her just to ruin the perfection of it, but I’d never risk that.
“Hi,” she says once she stops only a few steps away from the three of us. “Thank you for inviting me. I’ve never been to a pumpkin patch before.”
Bryce still stares at her feet. “You need a pair of boots.”
“Boots?” Millie glances down, frowning. “Oh. I know these aren’t very ideal for this kind of thing.”
Something in my chest cracks at the nerves in her voice. The obvious embarrassment.
“They’re fine,” I snap, glaring at Bryce before I realize it.
Her expression shifts, revealing her surprise.
I ignore it, focusing on Millie and the way she’s looking up at me like she’s hoping I don’t keep pushing on that wound.
“If your feet get sore, I’ll carry you around on my back like a fucking horse. Got it?”
I expect the sudden choking noise to be from Bryce, but it’s Daisy who bends over with a fist knocking her chest. Bryce’s nicer half gawks at me while trying to catch her breath.
Millie presses her knuckles to her mouth to hide a giggle that I know is trapped in her throat.
I watch her boldly, debating whether or not I should just haul her away from everyone without a word.
“I’m going to get Daisy something to drink,” Bryce says, doing a shit job of not staring at me like she doesn’t recognize me.
I roll my eyes and let her haul her fiancée away. Millie turns slightly, drawing my attention back easily.
“A horse, huh?”
“You got a better animal to use?”
“No.”
“I doubt you’ll need me to carry you anyway. I’ve never met someone who can walk as well in those shoes as you can,” I say, my voice softening.
“I could get boots. It’s probably more fitting for this town. Wearing heels here was silly anyway.”
I shake my head, my hands deep in my hoodie pocket. “You don’t need to fit into this town. You couldn’t if you tried.”
“I am trying to,” she admits softly.
“Stop. You not being like everyone else here is part of what makes you so fucking special. Don’t change that, especially not because of what Bryce said. She’s giving you a hard time because that’s her way of getting to know you, not because she really thinks you need to change anything.”
Millie blinks, her lips parting. She looks like she’s trying not to believe me.
“Don’t overthink it,” I add, stopping her mind in its tracks.
Her voice is softer than it’s been in days when she asks, “You meant it?”
“I’m not in the habit of saying things I don’t.”
“I know.”
She doesn’t look away, not even when I give her the smallest grin I’ve got.
“If I say something nice, you don’t have to dig around for the catch.”
“Easier said than done. There’s always a catch somewhere, even if it’s not obvious.”
“The only one I have is that I’ll keep saying it ’til you start believing it.”
Her lips twitch, like she’s not sure whether to laugh or cry. There’s a shift in her then, like she feels more seen than a minute ago. Like what I’ve said means something to her. Then her fingers brush mine. It’s barely a touch, as if she’s testing the weight of what I just said.
It’s enough to pull all the air out of my chest. I don’t grab her hand. Don’t push either of us. But I let my knuckles stay there, grazing hers until she looks away with the faintest smile.
And that’s how I know I’ve got her believing me—at least a little.