Chapter 26
It is a mind-boggling feat of modern muscle that a plot of land can go from barnless to barned in the space of one day, but that’s exactly what happens.
The admirable citizens of Autumn Ridge—yours truly excluded, because barn raising is not in my DNA—come together on Saturday morning and assemble the giant building, Amish style.
I’m put in mind of swarming ants as I watch them, especially when they’re scurrying around on top during the framing portion.
The barn will eventually become a community event center, but when the barn dance is held later this evening, it will still have concrete floors and bare walls that echo the sound of live music. I’m not much of a dancer, but even I’m excited.
I spend most of the day at the construction site, chatting with friends and watching the barn go up in stages.
Dominic spares me little more than a glance and a smile as he works, frequently consulting with Bennett.
Archer from the stables is there working as well, and James Carver from Carver Maple Farm.
I spot Ari and Wade too, who are supposed to be in a fake relationship, but their flirting looks very real; I give her a thumbs up when our eyes meet, and she smiles in response.
I’m forced to acknowledge as I watch that our town has a statistically unlikely number of attractive bachelors.
There are even some I recognize only faintly—Rosie’s eyes are carefully following a guy I think is named Dean, and a few times I spot Emma looking at Carson Price, who’s a dentist over on Main.
Looks like Dom’s sisters have their eyes on some of Autumn Ridge’s finest, too.
When the afternoon rolls around and I get a text from Nate telling me he’s home, I take a break from all my important moral support work to go see him. Although his car is the only one I see when I pull up to the house, I tiptoe across the front porch anyway.
I inch the door open, just enough to poke my head in, but all I see is Nathan on the couch, eating a bowl of cereal.
“Psst!” I say. “Is Alvina here?”
He lets out a snort of laughter when he looks over at me. “No, you coward,” he says. “Stop lurking. Come inside.”
I step in and close the door behind me. “How was your trip?” I say, slouching over to the sofa and plopping down next to him.
“It was fine,” he says around a mouth full of Cheerios, but his words are accompanied by a lackluster expression and a little shrug.
“A rousing sentiment,” I say, unable to hide my skepticism. I pause. “Is everything okay?”
Once he’s swallowed his food, he says, “Yeah.” Then he runs his hand over his hair. “I don’t know. Long-distance is just—difficult.”
“I know,” I say sympathetically.
If we’re getting technical, I don’t actually know. I’ve never done long distance. But I can imagine.
Either way, Nathan doesn’t seem like he wants to talk about it, because he changes the subject. “How was the dinner thing?” he says before taking another massive bite of cereal.
“Ah,” I say, shrinking back into the cushion a bit. I clear my throat. “It was…not great.”
His brows jump in question as he looks over at me, his cheeks still bulging with food.
“It was messy,” I say. “And I got kind of emotional.” I’m not sure how to explain it to him, so I just add, “It doesn’t matter now. It’s over.”
He shrugs again, an easy motion. “You need therapy, Reese.” He shoots me a glance. “You know that, right?”
The couch swallows a little more of me. “I’m mostly fine.” I hesitate, and then, for the sake of honesty, I go on. “Except…”
“Yeah,” Nathan says with a nod. “Except for when you’re not.”
“Well, what about you?” I point out.
But he gives another snort of laughter, his spoon clinking against his bowl as he fishes for the last of the Cheerios. “Me?” he says. “I’m fine. I have firmly placed Alvina in the none-of-my-business category.”
My brow furrows in confusion, and Nate sighs.
“She forgets my name? None of my business,” he says.
“She’s dating a raccoon? None of my business.
As long as she doesn’t get in my way, she can exist however she wants.
Because,” he adds, stressing the word and looking meaningfully at me, “she is rain on the window. I know it’s there, but I’m not getting wet, and I get to decide if the window ever opens. ”
“I don’t like this conversation.”
“You never do.” His eyes are gentler when he looks over at me again. “But I think you might be drowning.”
I think he might be right.
I battle with the sofa for a few seconds before it releases me, and I stumble to my feet. “Well,” I say, “I’m heading back to the barn raising. Are you coming to the dance this evening?”
Nathan puts the bowl to his lips and proceeds to drink all of the milk, slurping sounds included. I take this to mean no.
“You’re such a frat boy,” I say, wrinkling my nose as he continues to slurp.
His loving, brotherly goodbye gets lost and turns into a rude hand gesture instead, but I just laugh. Then I hop back in my car and return to the barn raising.
I hang out with Ari and Liv for a while as the sun sinks lower and the barn comes together.
A collective cheer goes up when it’s finally finished, and my eyes search for Dom; I find him talking to Ben, wiping sweat from his brow and looking tired but pleased.
Our eyes meet, and his smile stretches wider.
I don’t think he needs to be that attractive. It’s rude, you know? He’s sweaty and gross. My heart should not be galloping when I see him like this.
But gallop it does, and I’m left to chase after it while waving my perfectly good common sense in the air like a flag—a reminder that letting Dom back into my heart could end badly.
I watch him as he appears to say goodbye to Bennett; then he looks around the crowd and the site, his gaze searching until he finds me again. He holds his phone up and wiggles it at me before turning and walking off in the opposite direction.
Sure enough, when I pull my phone out, I have a new text.
Dominic
Going home to shower. I’ll be back in a bit.
A jolt of pleasant nerves goes through me, the kind I got at prom wondering if my crush would ask me to dance (he did not, because it was Dom, and as previously established, he did not know me at all).
I push those feelings away, biting my lip, but I can’t stop my smile, either.
The barn dance has an easy, joyful atmosphere, one I’m happy to let sweep me away.
It’s warm in here, and noisy, but I don’t actually mind.
The musicians are great, too, especially when Maven Price steps in and begins to fiddle.
Her blonde hair glows in the makeshift lighting—twinkle lights and construction lights hooked up to a generator—and I can say without question that she’s the best musician I’ve ever seen.
“Miss Reese.”
A voice speaks my name, and I turn to see Ben Walker, standing next to me with his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes on the people dancing around us.
He directs his attention at me, and it’s only when his face falls that I realize I’m frowning.
“Do you want me to leave you alone—?” he begins.
“No!” I say quickly, laughing. “Sorry. I was just thinking…” I wrinkle my nose, trying to remember. “I think the last person to call me Miss Reese was Hal from the Maple Bar. Or maybe Joe Bugelbach?”
“Hmm,” he says, his expression easy with humor once more. “I see what you mean.” He pauses. “I’ll call you Reese, then.”
I smile, raising my voice over the swell of the music. “Sounds good.”
“Well, Reese,” he says, leaning sideways toward me. “I have an idea I want to run by you.”
I raise my brows, waiting for him to go on.
He glances up at Maven playing the violin, and then he turns his eyes to the other side of the room.
I follow his gaze and find Dominic, who’s standing against the wall and talking to Archer Kade.
“Oh,” I say, surprised. “He’s back.”
Dom’s gaze catches mine and bounces back and forth between Ben and me, his brow furrowing slightly.
“Yep,” Bennett says, looking back at me. “So I think you and I should dance together.”
I snort. “When your ex-wife is standing right there?” I say, nodding toward Maven. “No way. Girl code is very strict on situations like this.”
“We’re technically still married,” he says, and I can’t help but notice how quickly the words come out of his mouth.
“Well, she will be your ex-wife, won’t she?” I say slowly. “Unless…” I look more closely at Maven, watching her for a second, until I see her gaze jump to where Ben and I are talking.
A sneaking suspicion pops into my mind then—that if Ben had his way, he and Maven wouldn’t get divorced at all.
“What’s going on with you two?” I say. “You were married, and then you thought you were divorced, but you’re still married and getting divorced again…?”
He hesitates, sighing. “It’s complicated. But honestly, your guess is as good as mine.” Then, rallying his spirits, he brightens. “What I do know is that a dance could be beneficial for both you and me.” His eyes dart to Dominic. “And I’d love to see how red Dom’s face gets.”
“His face doesn’t really get red,” I say absently, my gaze wandering to Dom as well. “His neck does, though.”
Ben laughs, and when I look back at him, he’s wearing a knowing grin. He grabs my hand and leads me to the center of the barn. “Look at that,” he says over his shoulder, his grin widening. “Dom is frowning already.”
I laugh too, despite my stumbling feet. “I don’t even know how to dance!”
“I’ve got you,” he says easily. “You’ll be surprised by your own abilities if I lead.” Then he raises his eyebrows at me. “So?”
My laugh lingers into a reluctant smile. “All right,” I say. “Okay. Show me how to dance, then. As long as,” I add quickly, raising my voice and speaking as sternly as possible.“As long as you tell Maven this was your idea. I am not a husband stealer. Got it?”
“On my honor,” Ben says, and then we’re off—my feet move easily beneath me, which shouldn’t be the case, but Ben was right. He’s great at this. He swings me around, pulls me close, maneuvers the two of us all around the floor until I’m laughing and completely out of breath.
We only slow down when Dominic approaches, his face suspiciously genial.
He claps Ben on the shoulder—with much more force than necessary, I might add, so that Ben winces—and then looks at him with a perfectly pleasant expression.
“Should I go ask Maven to dance, then?” he says.
Bennett’s eyes narrow, but Dom goes on, his voice still conversational.
“And I’ll hold her nice and close, or maybe swing her around for a few line dances?” He glances over at Maven and then back at Ben, raising his brows expectantly.
Ben grumbles and lets go of my hands, his face souring as he glares at Dominic. “You’re no fun,” he says, but when he turns his eyes to me before walking away, I could swear I see laughter.
“I was enjoying my dance with Ben,” I say lightly.
Dominic hums, placing his hands on my waist and pulling me close as the music slows down. “I could tell,” he says in a dry voice.
A pleasurable rush zips through me at his touch, and I slide my hands up his arms until they loop around his neck. Then I look up at him. “It was rude of you to butt in.”
“Noted,” he says, sounding not at all sorry. “I’m a rude man.”
“Presumptuous.”
He nods. “Presumptuous too. Got it.”
“And so penitent.”
His arms tighten around me as he ducks his head and laughs softly in my ear. “Rude, presumptuous—anything else, darling Reese?”
That name.
My heart stutters, and I try to keep my words steady, but I’m not sure it works. “Haven’t heard that one in a long time.”
He pauses, even stilling his feet for a second. Then he moves again, back to the slow dance we’ve been doing.
“There are a lot of things we haven’t said in a long time,” he says. “And yet…” He leans impossibly closer, until I can feel his lips brushing against my skin as he breathes, “You’ve made yourself very comfortable, pressed up against me like this.”
“And your arms could not be tighter around my waist,” I respond immediately. “Don’t pretend this isn’t mutual—whatever it is.”
He lifts his head slowly to look down at me, his face half shadowed but his eyes bright. “I won’t pretend.” After a second of quiet between us, he goes on. “I am interested to hear what you think is happening right now, though.”
“We’re dancing,” I say, but my voice is breathless. “Like—friends.”
What a stupid word—friends.
Dom thinks so too, because a huff of skeptical laughter escapes his lips. Then he leans down once more to speak in my ear.
“Let me ask you something, Berkeley,” he says softly as his hands travel slowly over my back. He trails one finger down my spine, just like the night he moved me into his shed, and I shiver; another little laugh from him, amused now. “Do you think you and I can truly be friends?”
There are a million things I want to say, but only one true answer—and I can’t speak that word out loud.
Dominic doesn’t expect me to.
“What about siblings? Hmm?” he says, and his earlier amusement grows sardonic teeth, bites deep. “Do you think we can be stepsiblings?”
My breath catches in my chest at the question, desperate and trapped; my hands grasp each other tightly behind his neck, my fingers twisting painfully. “Stop,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “Stop—please.”
I feel his sigh, the pliancy of his body as it curves around mine until our dance is more of a hug, cradling and deep and home.
“Monsters in the dark can be outrun,” he murmurs as his hand strokes my hair. “The truth never can.”
His words settle into my heart, my bones, and hot tears prick my eyes, because I know he’s right.
Something has to give.
I hesitate only a second before turning my face into his chest, his neck, breathing him in. I don’t know what the future holds for us. I don’t know if or when I’ll get to do this with him again. So I savor the moment—and all the memories it brings.