Chapter 13 #2
How do I answer that? What do I even say to that?
Well, I can answer one question. “You shooting blanks doesn’t bother me.” As for him wanting to see what’s between us? I’m not sure how I feel about that.
The ticking of a mental clock is my personal Sword of Damocles.
He nods, unlocks the door, and leads me inside, where the interior is just as magical as the exterior. Although ivy grows on the crisscrossing beams, it doesn’t take away from just how incredible this building is. The creeping green adds to the magic of this chapel.
“Arlo!” I gasp, running my fingers over the pews as an altar rises at the other end, where a grand piano sits in rot.
“My dad and my grandfather built this chapel.”
My neck cracks as I swing around to look at him. “What?”
“You heard me, Birdie.” He points to the front where the piano sits. “My mother used to play that piano.”
“What happened to this place?”
“My father died.” The words are so simple and pale in comparison to what that death meant.
The hurt and pain is clear in everything I see before me, from the ruin of the chapel to the sadness and lingering awe in Arlo’s eyes.
“He loved this place, and without him, my mom couldn’t bring herself to keep up with it.
We come out here every so often to take a walk down memory lane. ”
“Why did you want to bring me here?”
He shrugs as he leads me down the aisle to the front. “I wanted you to meet my dad in some way. Show you what he created, even though it’s long past.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” I point to the ivy creeping up the wall. “I think the ivy adds a touch of magic.”
“It’s a parasite, is what it is.”
“A beautiful parasite,” I tease, heading back for the basket of food. “But I think you could restore it.” Tossing my coat onto a pew, I grab the basket, ignoring his sputtering and laughter.
“We don’t use this chapel anymore.”
“Obviously.” I pull out a grape and pop it into my mouth. “But we could.”
My face drops as soon as I realize what I said, and I inhale my grape, only for it to get lodged in my throat.
Arlo stares at me in shock, whether it’s from what I said or the fact that I can’t breathe because of the grape lodged in my throat, I don’t know.
But in about two seconds, I’m going to resemble that grape and drop to the floor dead, leaving Lark an orphan.
Oh, man, my brother is going to be so mad. I gasp and drop the basket, and the clatter startles Arlo into action. His boots clomp on the floor, and everything around me becomes exaggerated. Sounds become far too loud, reverberating in my skull like a gong.
This is dying, and all I can think is, Not what I expected. There’s no tunnel vision into the land of all my best and worst moments of life. Just wow, in a chapel? The irony of that isn’t just loud but mocking.
Arlo wraps his arms around me, his hands lacing together as he gives me the Heimlich.
Once.
Twice.
Thrice.
A grape pops out of my mouth and shoots across the room to land on the piano, where it thuds against the keys. A horrible and not at all tuned sound strikes the air with the finality of my near-death experience.
Breathing heavily, I slump against Arlo, who holds me up, his heat wrapping around me like a soft blanket that I want to snuggle into.
“You hungry?” I question, my throat scratchy and broken.
Behind me, Arlo’s laughter vibrates against my skin, his breath warming my neck. “I can’t believe that just happened.”
“Oh, I can.” I rub my throat, hoping that Saffron packed something to drink other than the bubbly I saw in there.
“You are more accident prone than a toddler.” He tugs me tighter against his chest, making me all too aware of the man at my back, the man who just saved me from my untimely death.
“I’m far too aware of that fact.” A glutton for punishment, I lean into his warmth, soaking up the sunshine rays of Arlo. “I hurt myself more than Lark when she was a baby.”
His hands slide down my body to grip my hips, my breath shuddering as I struggle to gain control of how I’m feeling. Those hands tighten, drawing me close and sending spirals of excitement to whirl through me.
“I should keep an eye on you.” His chin brushes the hair off my neck, allowing the ghost of his breath to flutter over the sensitive skin of my neck.
A pulse of desire threads through my veins. I wave my hands around me, unsure what to do or where to place them until they flop at my sides like a dead fish. “An adult babysitter.”
“Adult sitter,” he teases.
I swallow past the lump in my throat. “We should eat.” Knowing I’ll miss his touch, his warmth, I step out of his arms and throw a sly smile over my shoulder.
“No more grapes for you.”
“Deal.” I don’t even try to argue as I throw the sheet over the cool floor and sink to the ground.
“I expect you to chew your food twenty times before you swallow.” He joins me, pulling out a small box of grape juice, and he eyes it with horror.
I snatch it out of his hands and push the straw in. “I don’t think I can choke on this.”
“You are the first person I ever met who choked on a grape.” Arlo hands me a sandwich as he leans against a broken pew.
“Here we are.” Peeling open the plastic containing my food, I roll back to the moment I inhaled that grape. “I didn’t mean—”
“That you wanted to marry me in this chapel?” He laughs at my look of horror. “I know.”
“But…” I look around once more at the magic of this building. I’ve never been one for religion, but I won’t deny the beauty of this chapel or the energy it holds. Knowing Arlo’s family built it gives it that slice of otherworldliness that I just can’t describe. “You should restore it.”
He grunts, but he looks at each rafter and each leaf with a glint in his eyes that wasn’t there before.
I hide my smile behind my ham and cheese, thankful for this moment.
Near-death experience and all.