Chapter 12
Sara squinted at the banner she was painting, the cheerful “Welcome to the Fairhaven Falls Spring Festival!” lettering slightly askew despite her best efforts.
Somehow she’d ended up volunteering to help with the Spring Festival planning, and she’d rapidly discovered that it was not her strong suit.
The community center was abuzz with excitement, everyone debating vendors and arguing good-naturedly about the placement of various decorations. The Spring Festival was apparently a very big deal in Fairhaven Falls.
“You’re doing wonderful work, dear.” Flora materialized at her elbow, looking like an overgrown chick in her fluffy yellow tracksuit. Her eyes twinkled mischievously. “Though I notice a certain grumpy rabbit isn’t here to appreciate it.”
Her cheeks warmed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Of course you don’t.” Flora patted her arm with a gnarled green hand. “And I didn’t see you leave his office looking thoroughly kissed last Friday either. My eyes must be going in my old age.”
“Flora—”
“Don’t mind me, sweetheart. I’m just an old woman who’s seen enough mating dances to recognize the steps.” She winked and tottered off towards the refreshment committee group, leaving Sara flustered and certain that everyone in the room was now staring at her.
They weren’t, of course. Everyone was far too busy with their own tasks. But that didn’t stop the heat from creeping up her neck as she made her way towards the cluster of tables where volunteers were sorting decorations.
Nina was there, her delicate features scrunched in concentration as she organized paper lanterns by color. She looked up and smiled when Sara joined her.
“Oh good, reinforcements.” Nina gestured at the chaotic pile of lanterns, streamers, and what appeared to be several dozen tiny rabbit figurines. “Mrs. Rodanth donated her entire collection of spring decorations. I’m not sure if she was being generous or just wanted the storage space.”
She laughed, settling into the folding chair beside her. “Can I help sort?”
“Please.” Nina pushed a box towards her. “Pink lanterns go left, yellow go right, and the rabbit figurines… honestly, I have no idea what to do with those.”
They worked in comfortable silence for a few minutes, as the other volunteers went about their tasks.
“So,” Nina said eventually, her voice carefully casual. “Ben’s been in a mood since Friday.”
Her hands stilled on a pink lantern. “Has he?”
“Mm-hmm. Keeps glaring at the stove like it personally offended him. Burned two batches of his signature chili yesterday.” Nina’s lips twitched. “We’re taking bets on how long it will be before he cracks.”
“What do you mean, crack?”
“Nina! Sara!” Posy’s cheerful voice rang out across the hall. She was weaving through the crowd with two steaming cups, her purple hair catching the light. “Break time! I brought hot chocolate.”
She accepted her cup gratefully, wrapping her cold fingers around the warmth. Posy plopped down in a third chair, crossing her legs and surveying the organized chaos around them with satisfaction.
“Speaking of tricks…” Posy’s eyes slid to Sara with unconcealed curiosity. “How’s the situation with your neighbor?”
“There is no situation.”
“Sure there isn’t. That’s why you practically floated home from the tavern last Friday.”
She groaned, dropping her head into her hands. “Does everyone in this town know my business?”
“Pretty much.” Posy’s grin was unrepentant. “Small town, remember? And you’re the most interesting thing that’s happened since Mrs. Abernethy’s cat got stuck in the clocktower.”
“I don’t see how my non-existent love life is more interesting than a cat in a clocktower.”
“The cat was rescued in twenty minutes. Your love life has been developing for weeks.” Posy took a sip of her hot chocolate. “Much better entertainment value.”
She couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her. “You’re terrible.”
“I prefer ‘invested in my friend’s happiness.’” Posy leaned forward, her expression softening into something more serious. “But really, how are things?”
“He’s been…” She searched for the right word. “Careful. Very careful. We talked about his past, about why he’s been holding back. He said he needs time to be sure his feelings are real and not just instinct.”
Nina made a sympathetic sound. “That sounds like Ben. He overthinks everything.”
“It’s sweet, in a way.” She stared into her hot chocolate. “He’s so worried about hurting me. But it’s also frustrating. I just wish…”
“Wish what?”
“I wish he could see what I see. I see someone kind and protective and stubborn and good, even when he’s being infuriating.”
“Have you told him that?”
“I’ve tried.” She shrugged. “But he doesn’t believe it.”
“Men are idiots,” Posy declared. “All species. It’s a universal constant. Varek was pretty damn stubborn too.”
“So what do I do?”
“You know,” Posy said eventually, “you could just seduce him.”
She choked on her hot chocolate. “What?”
“I’m serious! If he’s worried about his instincts being in the driver’s seat, take control yourself. Show him it’s not about him chasing you—it’s about you choosing him.”
“I can’t just—”
“Why not? You’re a grown woman. He’s a grown rabbit. What’s the problem?”
“I’m afraid he’ll blame himself afterwards.” She set down her cup, frustration bleeding into her voice. “He’s spent six years convinced he can’t trust himself around women. If I push him into something before he’s ready, he’ll find a way to make it his fault.”
Posy’s eyebrows rose. “Wow. You really have been paying attention.”
“I’m a kindergarten teacher. Reading people is kind of the job description.”
“Fair point.” Posy sat back, tapping her fingers against her cup. “So seduction is out. What’s the plan?”
Sara didn’t have a plan. That was the problem.
She’d spent the past week replaying their conversation in Ben’s office, analyzing every word and expression, trying to figure out how to navigate the minefield between them.
He wanted her—she was certain of that now.
But he was so tangled up in guilt and fear that he couldn’t let himself have what he wanted.
“He’s scared,” she said quietly. “Not of hurting me, not really. He’s scared of being that person again. The one he described.”
“But he’s not that person anymore,” Nina said, her voice gentle.
“I know that. You know that. Flora probably knew it the moment she saw him.” She sighed. “But he doesn’t believe it.”
“Then make him believe it,” Posy said simply. “Show him who he is now, not who he was then.”
The idea settled in her mind, taking root like a seed in fertile soil. Not seduction, then. Something else. Something that would bypass all his defenses and speak directly to the male hiding behind the walls.
A commotion from across the hall drew their attention. Flora had commandeered the box of the rabbit figurines and was arranging them in what appeared to be increasingly suggestive poses on one of the booth displays. Several younger volunteers were either laughing or covering their eyes.
“You know,” Flora’s voice carried clearly across the room, “this is actually quite accurate for rabbit mating behavior. Very athletic, rabbits. Impressive stamina.”
Sara’s face went nuclear.
“Flora!” someone called. “The children’s booth is three feet away!”
“What? It’s educational!”
Posy was cackling, Nina had buried her face in her hands, and Sara was seriously considering whether it was possible to die of embarrassment.
“Oh, to be young and in the spring of life,” Flora continued, undeterred. “I remember when my Herbert was in his prime. The male could go for hours. I often wondered if he had a rabbit Other somewhere in his family tree—”
“And that’s my cue to leave,” she announced, standing abruptly. Her cheeks felt like they were on fire. “I have… things. To do. Somewhere else.”
“Are you going to start Operation ‘Convince the Bunny?’” Posy asked, her eyes twinkling.
She nodded, then hurried out of the room. Flora’s commentary ringing in her ears.
Very athletic. Impressive stamina.
She really needed to stop thinking about it, but the walk home did nothing to cool her heated thoughts.
Every time she tried to focus on something else—the lesson plans she needed to finish, the groceries she should probably buy, the fact that she still hadn’t unpacked the last three boxes in her spare room—her mind circled back to Ben. To their kisses. To the feel of his hands on her body.
She pressed her cool fingers to her burning cheeks. She was being ridiculous. She was a grown woman, not a teenager with a crush. She’d had relationships before, but none of them had left her this… unsettled.
None of them had been Ben. None of them had held her with such desperate tenderness, or pulled away with such obvious reluctance. None of them had made her feel like the most dangerous, most precious thing in the world.
By the time she reached her cottage, she’d made up her mind. She’d agreed to give him time, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t give him a little encouragement along the way.
The brownies were easy. She’d probably made them a dozen times since moving to Fairhaven Falls. She moved through her small kitchen on autopilot, measuring and mixing and folding, letting the familiar rhythm soothe her nervous energy.
The chocolate melted into the butter. Sugar whispered against eggs. The whole kitchen filled with the rich, sweet scent that had become synonymous with her attempts to reach her impossible neighbor.
Brownies, she thought wryly. The universal language of courtship.
Her mother had always said the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. She wasn’t sure that was true with human males, but it certainly seemed to be true with Others.
The batter went into the oven. She set the timer and then stood at her kitchen window, staring across the yard at the house next door.
Ben’s windows were dark, but she could see a faint glow from somewhere in the back. His office, probably. Or maybe his bedroom. She wondered if he was playing guitar, if the music was drifting out into the cold night air where she couldn’t quite hear it.
She wondered if he was thinking about her.
Stop it, she told herself firmly. You’re borrowing trouble.
But the truth was, she couldn’t stop thinking about what Flora had said. About rabbit mating behavior. About stamina and athleticism and all the other things that made her face flush and her stomach flip.
She’d done her research, discreetly, and the results had been… illuminating. Rabbit Others were apparently among the most physically demonstrative of the various species. Their mating instincts were tied closely to scent and touch, driving them to form intense bonds with their chosen partners.
Chosen partners.
That was the part that stuck with her. According to everything she’d read, despite the physical intensity of the mating season, rabbit Others didn’t form attachments lightly. They would spend years alone before finding someone who triggered their bonding instincts. And once they bonded…
She swallowed hard.
Once they bonded, they bonded for life.
Was that what Ben was afraid of? Not just losing control, but losing himself entirely? Binding himself to someone so completely that there was no going back?
The timer dinged. She pulled the brownies from the oven, the chocolate scent intensifying as steam rose from the pan. She let them cool while she changed out of her jeans into a cream-colored sweater paired with a short red pleated skirt and black tights.
You’re just going to deliver some brownies, she reminded herself. Calm down.
But her hands were shaking slightly as she cut the brownies and arranged them on a plate. Her heart was pounding as she pulled on her coat and stepped out into the cold evening air.
Ben’s house loomed in the darkness, familiar and imposing. She’d made this walk before—had stood on his porch with baked goods and forced smiles and a stubborn refusal to be intimidated by his grumpiness. This shouldn’t feel any different.
But it did.
Everything felt different now. Now that she knew what he tasted like. Now that she’d felt his hands on her body and heard him admit, with that broken voice, that he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything.
She climbed the porch steps, then knocked, her hand trembling.
The seconds stretched like hours. She could hear movement inside—footsteps, a muffled curse, the sound of something being set down. Then the door swung open, and Ben was there, backlit by the warm glow of his living room, his silver-gray fur catching the light.
He was wearing a simple black t-shirt that stretched across his broad shoulders, and his ears were slightly askew, like he’d been running his hands through the fur between them. His eyes widened when he saw her, then narrowed with that familiar mix of wariness and hunger.
“Sara.”
“Hi.” Her voice came out steadier than she expected. “I brought brownies.”
His gaze dropped to the plate, then lifted back to her face. Something flickered in his expression—something soft and pained and wanting.
“You need to stop doing that.”
“Bringing you brownies?”
“Making it impossible to keep my distance.”
Her breath caught. “Maybe I don’t want you to keep your distance.”
His jaw tightened, and she watched his hands clench at his sides, claws pricking against his palms.
“Sara…”
“I’m not here to seduce you.” Exactly. “I know you need time. I respect that. But I want you to know that I’m here. That I haven’t changed my mind. That I want you to spend the Spring Festival with me, not because you’re overwhelmed by instincts, but because you want to be there.”
She held out the plate again and after a pause that stretched for eons, he took it. Relief flooded her so quickly she felt dizzy. She wanted to close the distance between them and kiss away his doubts, but instead she took a step back and made herself smile.
“Good night, Ben. Sleep well.”
She turned and walked away, her heart pounding against her ribs. She didn’t look back. She didn’t have to. She could feel the weight of his gaze on her until she was safely inside her own cottage, her back pressed against the door, her lungs burning for air.
Step one complete.