Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Cryptids United in Delightful Dating and Love Encouragement (CUDDLE) Forum
SuperShySasquatch: Is taking it slow a bad idea? I don’t want anyone else to swoop in and woo the person I’m interested in, but I don’t like to rush or force anything, for him or me. Just consider me the quintessential slow-burn romance MC in the flesh.
IPutTheBrahInChupacabra: Isn’t there an expression, “slow and steady wins the race”?
If it’s meant to be, going at your own pace should be just fine.
Rushing things can also backfire. I speak from sad personal experience on that one.
Besides, if this guy is genuinely interested in you, then he won’t be swayed by someone else unless you back off entirely.
SuperShySasquatch: Thanks, I think I needed to hear that.
YetiOrNotHereICome: Sounds like you might be more on the demisexual side of the spectrum, and if that’s true, then taking it at your own pace and developing the emotional connection is crucial. Without that, even if you did try to rush your romance, it probably wouldn’t work out.
LoungeSingerLizardMan: I like this slow and steady plan.
Just remember, slow doesn’t mean you have to act disinterested.
You don’t want to confuse him and make him think he’s being friend-zoned!
I recommend embracing the spirit of old-fashioned romantic courtship.
It’s a lost art, if you ask me. Everyone’s rushing to jump into bed without any anticipatory buildup.
Woo him with your words and actions. Win over his heart and make him yearn for you. Just like in a classic love song.
SuperShySasquatch: Or a historical romance novel!
NessieNeedsLoveToo: Ahem. So, I must admit I’ve sometimes been guilty of the jumping-into-bed-too-soon behavior. But I’m older and wiser now. That’s not to say I don’t have sexual needs. I have A LOT of them. However, I’ve recently started to want the kind of love you’re all talking about.
MerMagicMan: Having a strong emotional connection makes the sex so much better when it finally happens.
At least, that’s my experience. I agree with @LoungeSingerLizardMan.
Few take the time to court each other anymore.
I miss that era. Writing love letters or secret notes, serenading someone, using the language of flowers to convey feelings—ah, those were the days.
SuperShySasquatch: All right, friends. Give me all your best old-fashioned courtship ideas! I’m ready to start my slow but steady campaign to win this man’s heart.
Hal
There’s no denying it. I’m falling for Skylar—hard.
When I carried him to his room last night, holding him in my arms was intoxicating. It was physically painful to let him go when I put him to bed. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to lie down beside Skylar and cuddle him all night long.
Needless to say, by the time I got back to my own bedroom, I couldn’t sleep.
Instead, I stayed up late on my advice forum, asking for tips on how to court Skylar.
I don’t want to fall into a kind of passivity with no momentum yet again.
In the meantime, I need a way to express all that I’m feeling right now.
My heart is so full when it comes to Skylar.
With a burst of determination, I get up early after a restless night’s sleep and go to my desk, where I pull out some of my best stationery and my favorite fountain pen.
I’ve always dreamed of writing love letters and poems to someone, so I’m prepared.
Right now, I want to convey all these feelings I have in a special way.
It takes me a solid hour, but I’m able to write a letter to Skylar that pours my heart out.
I’m not sure when I’ll give it to him. I need to build up my courage to give it to him when the time seems right.
The sun is just beginning to rise when I quietly make my way downstairs, not wanting to rouse a sleeping Skylar.
The poor guy needs his rest. He’s been working so hard every day to get his business up and running.
I truly admire his fortitude and unwavering dedication.
He’s basically starting from scratch and building the whole salon from the ground up. It’s awe-inspiring.
Even when I took over running the B&B, I didn’t have a lot to do to get things started.
It was more or less a seamless handover.
Sure, I gradually made changes in the decor of the house and lent my own personal touches by crocheting afghans and throws, embroidering the curtains, and so forth.
But what Skylar is doing is a far more monumental undertaking.
Both Astraea and I have offered to help him numerous times, but he’s been resolute in wanting to do it on his own, and I can respect that.
It’ll be his salon, after all, and I get the sense that he needs to do this to prove something to himself.
So instead, I’ve been offering whatever silent support I can, mainly by keeping him well fed so he has the energy and strength to work the long hours he’s putting in.
I move around the kitchen, reveling in the rays of sunlight as they start to come through the windows.
This is definitely my favorite room. I consider it the heart of my home.
I’m not sure if this is the same for others, but having never had a traditional house, let alone a kitchen, I know it’s true for me.
Sasquatches usually prefer to live off the land in every way—roughing it in nature is the norm.
Campfire cooking is the norm. When I was young, our family sometimes used temporary makeshift shelters or took up brief residence in caves when the weather was especially bad, but otherwise we slept out under the stars.
The thick pelt of hair that covers most of our bodies keeps us very warm, but to me, that way of living never felt quite right.
Personally, I love having my own cozy home and being able to share it with others. There’s safety and belonging here.
The air is chilly this morning, so I decide to make a hearty oat porridge for us. I’ve just finished eating my breakfast when a sleepy-eyed, wild-haired Skylar pads into the kitchen, yawning. He’s still wearing the clothes he had on when I put him to bed last night, but he’s added a hoodie.
“It’s cold this morning,” he murmurs in that wonderfully raspy voice of his as he sits down. He gives a little shiver.
“I have just the thing to warm you up.” I hurry to the stove and prepare a bowl of porridge for him, topping it with fresh berries, walnuts, and a side of cream and brown sugar. I also pour him a steaming cup of coffee and carry his meal to the table, setting the dishes down in front of him.
He smiles at me, his expression soft and missing the wariness that’s usually at the edges. “Thanks, Hal, this looks great.”
I’m about to sit down and join him with my second cup of coffee when my cell phone starts ringing.
“Sorry, I have to take this call,” I tell Skylar as I frown down at the screen.
He waves me off, and I hurry out of the kitchen and to the front parlor as I answer, “What’s wrong, Laurelis? You wouldn’t be calling me this early if there wasn’t a problem.”
“Indeed,” the dryad says in her soft, musical voice. “I’m afraid we’ve got a bit of an… issue down at the orchard.”
My stomach drops. “How serious is it?” I start gnawing on my bottom lip, fearing the worst. In less than three weeks, we’re kicking off the start of the Harvest Festival with Jayden Bell’s students performing a musical number down at the orchard.
Then we have an apple picking event, family-friendly games, and wagon rides lined up.
A catastrophe at the ninth hour is not something any of us need right now.
There’s a beat of silence on the other end before Laurelis speaks again.
“I think it would be best for you to come here and see the situation for yourself. It’s hard to convey over the phone.
I don’t mean to alarm you,” she hurries to add, “and I want to stress that this is not a dire emergency, but it is a concerning situation.”
I run a hand through my hair and work to stay calm. “I’ll be there shortly.”
“Good. I’ve called Baxter as well. He’ll meet us here.”
Bringing in the chief of police doesn’t sound good no matter how you slice it, and anxiety roils in my gut.
Overseeing logistics on the festival planning committee this year is an important role, and one that I cherish.
This festival means a lot to everyone in town, and I don’t want to see anything ruin it.
Laurelis and I say our goodbyes and I hurry back to the kitchen. “Sorry, Skylar. I’m going to have to head out. There’s a bit of an issue down at the apple orchard that they need me to help with.”
He frowns. “Nothing too serious, I hope?”
I wince. “Not sure, but it seems important, and this close to the opening of the festival is not ideal. Whatever the situation, we need to be able to deal with it quickly.”
Skylar bites his bottom lip. “I’d offer to come with you, but I’ve got a virtual appointment with my therapist in a little bit.”
I hold my hands up to stop him. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it under control. You can’t miss your therapy appointment. It’s so important.”
He studies me intently, then nods. “Okay, but if things get really bad, message me. Otherwise, I’ll be down at the salon after my session. I’ve got the plumber coming just before lunch to install the washbasins, but otherwise I can probably free up a bit of time if you need me.”
“I appreciate the offer, but we should be okay. You need to focus on finishing everything up in the salon. I’ve got plenty of other people I can call on if we need extra hands. Hopefully, I should be back by dinnertime, but I’ll keep you posted.”
Already in my apron of the day, one with a sasquatch knitting on the front, I head out of the house and hurry toward the apple orchard with long strides.