Chapter 18
Wyatt
Alice Blythe tastes like forgotten memories and hope.
She feels like a crackling fire after a snowball fight, and a steaming bath after a long day in the woods.
Her arms wind around my neck as she slides out of the truck, her body fit tight against mine.
My heart races past my mind, which is screaming for me to slow down.
Just as Alice makes the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard, the screen door slams, and puppy footfalls have us jumping apart. When my head snaps back to look for Fallon, she’s nowhere in sight, but I can hear her cackling in the house.
A low laugh rumbles through me, reminding me that I’ve still got Alice clasped tight to my chest. She sighs, and I want to know everything about the nuance of her breath. Is that a happy noise? A wistful one?
Fern pushes her nose into Alice’s hand, giving her the biggest doggy smile as she sits on my foot. It’s clear she approves of me kissing Alice, and from the sound of laughter in the house, Fallon does too.
As I draw back a touch, I see Alice’s eyes have gone wide and stunned, and I wonder if I got all my signals crossed. What if she meant that she felt safe with me like a big brother?
I take half a step back from her, just to give her a little breathing room. But I’m no chickenshit with lovers. One deep breath, and I ask her outright. “Did I read that wrong? Should I not have kissed you?”
Slowly, her head tilts up, and those big hazel eyes of hers blink twice. She has uncommonly long lashes, and the pink flush in her cheeks makes her prettier than I thought possible. Not that I’ve been thinking about how pretty she is every minute of the day since I met her.
“No,” she says, then seems to realize I asked her two questions. “I mean yes.”
She’s either completely blown away by my kissing skills, or she’s trying to figure out how to file a sexual harassment claim with Hedgerider HR, which we absolutely do not have.
“I’m gonna need you to be a touch more specific,” I whisper, not wanting my eavesdropping big sister to hear us.
Alice nods but still doesn’t answer. She just bites that bottom lip, her eyes narrowing a bit.
I take a deep breath and another step back. My heart’s got to racing in a way that signals anxiety rather than excitement. I need her to say something or to go for a very long run.
Her hand shoots out, and she grabs my hand before I can take another step backward.
“No, you did not read that wrong. Yes, I wanted you to kiss me. And…” Alice pauses, staring at our shoes and Fern, whose tail thumps powerfully on the crushed gravel of the driveway.
“I think I’d like you to do it again sometime soon. ”
She’s so damn adorable, I can’t help but laugh. I squeeze her hand. “That can be arranged.”
“Thank you,” she says as she lets go—somewhat reluctantly, I notice. Then she grimaces. “You’re going to give me shit later for thanking you, aren’t you?”
I throw my arm around her shoulders and press a kiss to the top of her head. She smells incredible, but I can’t let myself think too far ahead just yet. “Damn right I will, Blythe.”
Alice leans against me a little as we head up the front walk.
Fallon saunters out with three crystal glasses and a bottle of the good whiskey, grinning, pushing the screen door with her hip.
She sets her supplies down with a flourish on the bent willow table that matches the couches on the covered porch.
“Thought we might celebrate the momentous occasion of my brother getting the first tiny bit of action he’s seen in, what, five years?” Fallon smiles, and it’s all jokes, but the sparkle in her eyes tells me it’s good fun. She likes Alice.
“Five years?” Alice murmurs as she takes the glass Fallon offers her. “That is quite a while to go without any action.”
I plop down on the chair opposite the bent willow couch and grab my own glass of whiskey, shaking my head. I’m trying not to think too hard about when the last time she kissed somebody might be, or if she’s still carrying a torch for someone.
The only thing to do with women like this is to give as good as I get and be gracious about the fact that they’ll win every time. “Let it be known that I declared right here and now that, if given the chance, the two of you will make each other worse from here to eternity.”
My sister grins as she drags Alice down on the couch next to her, spreading the quilt she keeps out here over the two of them. “Your concerns have been noted.”
Fern sticks her head under their blanket, and there’s a commotion of coaxing her up between them. When the three of them are squished in together and have stopped cackling like a band of wild hyenas, I lean forward and set my drained glass down on the table.
“We might want to order a pizza,” I muse. Fallon raises an eyebrow at me. She doesn’t order the pizza; I do. “Which, of course, I will do. But Blythe and I have had quite the afternoon we need to tell you about.”
“Better get extra cheese then,” Fallon chirps. “And Alice can give me the broad strokes of what happened.”
I nod, slapping my thighs with my hands before pushing out of the chair. “Any other requests?” I lock eyes with Alice. “We typically get sausage—they do the crispy kind at the Slice o’ Heaven, with mushrooms and grilled onions.”
Alice shakes her head. “That sounds good.”
As I open the screen door, Fallon calls to me, “Wanda dropped off a bag of barbecue potato chips she whipped up in the cauldron this afternoon. Bring those out.” Before I can respond, she adds, “Maybe some beer? One of those real hoppy IPAs Cade left here.”
I nod, and as I kick my boots off by the front door, I hear Alice ask, “Now, does she clean the cauldron before making the potato chips, or are there…like…spell remnants in it that make the chips better than any I’ve ever had?”
Fallon responds without missing a beat. “The latter. Obviously. Wanda’s a witch.”
“Obviously,” Alice replies as I stand there listening like a weirdo.
When the two of them giggle like they’re sixteen, I head for the phone. A hollow ache in my chest slows me down. If Alice decides to leave Blackbird Hollow when all this is over, I’m gonna get hurt.
But Fallon wasn’t kidding about it being five years. After the last disaster in my romantic life ended, I swore off lovers for a while. But Alice could never be just a lover. I’ve known her for five whole minutes and I already know that. When she leaves—if she leaves—I’ll break.
I don’t have to know her for a week, a month, or even a year to know that. I knew it the moment she swept into the Stardust, the chill wind rustling behind her. Never would’ve believed in any sort of emotion past lust at first sight, but whatever this is, it’s not just lust.
I don’t think I can hold back my heart. It might not even be good to, at this point.
I lean against the kitchen wall for a minute, listening to the soft sounds of the two women on the porch discussing redcaps and the High Courts.
They talk in loops, feeding on each other’s ideas, saying ridiculous things and laughing while they tease out their theories.
I like the way they talk to each other. The way I fit so easily into their dynamic. And Caden’s gonna click with the vibe too, because Alice is already on our wavelength, like she’s the missing thread we needed all along.
Whatever’s blowing our way is bad. It always is with our line of work. But I can’t think of a single wrong thing about Alice Blythe coming here. Even if she leaves, I can’t imagine feeling different.
With that settled, I take a single deep breath and dial Slice o’ Heaven.
An hour and a half later, and I’ve got a fire going, the three of us are stuffed full, and all’s mostly well with the world.
After we ate, Fallon brought out the distilled herbal concoction she makes every spring that drinks like a bottled meadow.
It hasn’t got a lick of alcohol in it, which means she wants to talk things through.
Now, she’s lying on the fluffy old sheepskin rug we found in the garage the year we moved in, staring at the crown molding like she does when she’s got an idea brewing.
Alice and Fern are stretched out on the cracked leather chesterfield, like two peas in a pod, with Alice giving that spoiled wolfdog far too many belly rubs.
Cat appears out of nowhere and jumps into my lap as the fire pops.
Fallon sits up to scratch the giant cat-sìth on the head, before wrapping her arms around her knees.
“I’ve been puzzling out what we’ve seen of the Hunt over the years,” she says, caution in her voice as she glances my way.
“And I’m not sure I remember much that’s useful to us.
Just the stuff we’ve already talked about. ”
I nod. I know where this is going, but she’s gotta say it.
Alice turns her head away from Fern to look between my sister and me. She feels it, then, the tension in the air. I can feel the question behind her teeth, just itching to get out: What’s going on? But she doesn’t ask. She just waits.
“What do you remember about the first time?” Fallon asks, her voice small and soft.
I blow out a breath, stroking Cat’s back as he makes biscuits on my chest. He’s immediately irritated with me and disappears, reappearing next to Fallon. “We really gonna do this tonight?”
Alice sits up a little, and to my surprise, Fern doesn’t stir. She really does feel comfortable with Alice.
From the floor, Fallon nods, still staring at the ceiling. “We were living in California when our parents died, which is also the first time we came across the Hunt. Wyatt’ll remember better than me…I wasn’t myself at the time.”
She swallows hard, but can’t seem to manage more. Alice is alert, but quiet. I like the way she listens but doesn’t throw out a bunch of preemptive platitudes. Alice is obviously deeply acquainted with sorrow, and she’s better than saying empty shit to grieving folks.