Chapter 20
“Well, well, well.” Posy’s voice cut across the community center meeting room the moment Sara walked through the door. “Look who finally decided to grace us with her presence.”
Sara felt heat rush to her cheeks, but she couldn’t stop the smile spreading across her face. “I’m not that late.”
Although it had been close. Ben’s kiss goodbye had escalated to the point where he’d ended up taking her against the door, hard and fast, before letting her leave.
The memory made her body hum with a lingering satisfaction.
The marks she’d seen on her shoulders this morning hadn’t been the only ones.
“No, but you are…” Posy tilted her head, studying her with narrowed eyes. “Different. Glowy. Like someone plugged you into a wall socket.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Liar.” Posy grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the folding table where the other festival committee members had gathered. “You’re practically radioactive with happiness. It’s disgusting.”
Flora appeared at Sara’s elbow like she’d materialized from thin air, her baby blue tracksuit emblazoned with the words “GOOD GIRLS GO TO HEAVEN, BAD GIRLS GO EVERYWHERE” in sparkly silver letters.
“She’s been claimed,” Flora announced, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. “I can smell it on her.”
She choked. “You can what?”
“Metaphorically speaking, dear.” Black eyes twinkled with wicked amusement. “Though rabbit Others do mark their mates with pheromones. You’re probably covered in them.”
“That’s not true. I don’t…” She looked around desperately for an escape route, but the other women had already turned to stare at her with varying degrees of interest and delight.
“Thank goodness.” Nina set down her clipboard and smiled at her. “Maybe we can finally catch a break. He’s been wound tighter than a two-dollar watch since the day you moved in.”
“We’re not discussing this.”
“We’re absolutely discussing this.” Posy steered her into a chair and plopped down next to her. “Details. Now.”
“There are no details!”
“Your neck says otherwise,” Flora observed, pointing a gnarled green finger at a spot just above Sara’s collar.
Her hand flew to her throat. Damn it. She’d thought the cardigan covered everything, but apparently the mark Ben had left—the one he’d been particularly pleased about this morning—was still visible.
“Is that a bite mark?” Elara leaned across the table, her face alight with curiosity. “That’s definitely a bite mark.”
“Rabbit Others bite during mating,” Flora said matter-of-factly. “It’s a territorial thing. They’re very primal.” She fanned herself dramatically. “I had a fling with a rabbit Other once. Couldn’t walk straight for a week.”
“Flora,” she groaned.
“What? I’m simply providing context.” Flora said innocently. “I assume the nest was involved? Did he carry you into it? Rabbit Others love carrying their mates. Something about securing the territory.”
Sara buried her face in her hands. “This is a nightmare.”
“This is wonderful,” Posy corrected, squeezing her arm. “I’m so happy for you. Both of you. Ben needed someone to crack through that grumpy shell of his.”
“He’s not that grumpy,” she muttered, and every woman at the table burst out laughing.
“Honey.” Nina wiped tears from her eyes. “I worked for him. He once made a delivery driver cry because they knocked on the door instead of using the bell.”
“Maybe he had a headache that day.”
“He always has a headache. It’s his natural state.” Nina grinned at her. “But I’ll admit, he’s been different lately. Less… scowly. Because of you.”
A warm glow spread through her chest. Ben had been different since he’d started courting her.
Softer, somehow. More willing to smile, and to let people see past the walls he’d built so carefully.
Knowing that she’d been part of that transformation, that her presence in his life had brought him some measure of peace, made her heart ache in the best possible way.
“He’s a good male,” she said quietly. “Underneath all the grumpiness.”
“The best,” Flora agreed, suddenly serious. “That boy has been punishing himself for years. Denying himself any comfort. It’s good to see someone finally break through.” Her eyes met Sara’s, full of genuine warmth. “You’re good for him, child. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
She blinked back unexpected tears. “Thank you.”
“Now.” Flora clapped her hands together, breaking the moment of solemnity. “Tell us about the nest. I’ve always wondered. Do rabbit Others use actual vegetation, or is it more of a pillow-and-blanket situation?”
“We’re not—”
“Pillows and blankets,” Posy supplied helpfully. “Ben special-ordered some ridiculously expensive bedding from somewhere in Europe. Apparently it’s softer than clouds.”
“It really is,” she admitted before she could stop herself.
The table erupted in delighted squeals.
“I knew it!” Posy crowed. “I knew you’d slept in the nest!”
“Can we please talk about something else?” She was fairly certain her face would never return to its normal color. “Anything else? The festival, maybe?”
“The festival is in three days,” Nina said. “The decorations are sorted, the food stalls confirmed, and the games planned. Everything’s on track.”
“So the meeting’s adjourned?” she asked hopefully.
“Nice try.” Ginger pushed through the community center’s swinging doors, a stack of folders tucked under one arm and an apologetic smile on her freckled face. “Sorry I’m late. Houston needed help with the permit paperwork.”
The mayor’s mate was a pretty woman with bright red hair and an easy smile. She dropped her folders on the table and sank into a chair with a grateful sigh.
“What did I miss?”
“Sara got claimed by Ben Holloway,” Flora announced.
“Flora!”
“Oh good.” Ginger didn’t seem remotely surprised. “Houston owes me twenty dollars. He thought Ben would hold out until after mating season ended.”
“There was a bet?” she asked, horrified.
“There’s always a bet in Fairhaven Falls. Flora runs a book.” Ginger waved a dismissive hand. “Anyway, congratulations. Ben’s one of the good ones. Now, can we talk about the music situation?”
She latched onto the subject change like a drowning woman grabbing a life preserver. “What music situation?”
“The band we booked cancelled.” Ginger pulled out one of her folders, flipping through pages covered in neat handwriting. “The lead singer got laryngitis, apparently. They can’t perform.”
“Damn,” Nina muttered. “The festival’s in three days. Where are we supposed to find a replacement on such short notice?”
“I’ve been making calls all morning,” Ginger said. “Most of the local acts are already booked elsewhere, and the ones that are available want too much money. We’re working with a limited budget here.”
“What about the high school band?” Elara suggested. “They played at the winter concert.”
“They’re on spring break. Half the kids are in Florida.”
“The church choir?”
“Already scheduled for the opening ceremony.”
“There has to be someone,” Posy said. “Fairhaven Falls is full of musicians. What about—”
“What about Ben?”
The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. Every head at the table swiveled towards her.
“Ben?” Nina’s eyebrows climbed even higher than before. “My boss Ben, who hasn’t performed publicly in six years? That Ben?”
“He’s been playing again.” Her voice came out small but steady. “At night, on his back porch. He’s… he’s really good. And lately he’s been singing more. Just for me, but…”
She trailed off, suddenly aware of how much she was revealing. Ben’s music was private, a gift he gave her in the quiet hours when it was just the two of them. Did she have the right to suggest he share it with the whole town?
But then she remembered how he looked when he played. The peace that settled over his features. The way his whole body relaxed, like the music was releasing the tension he’d been carrying for years. He missed performing. She could see it in every note, every chord, every word he sang.
Maybe this could be a chance for him to reclaim that part of himself and stop hiding from who he really was.
“He was famous before he came here,” Flora agreed.
“I know.” She had done some research after the first night she’d heard him sing and felt her world tilt on its axis. She’d found videos of his old performances, back when he’d fronted The Bite. He’d been magnetic on stage—wild and passionate and utterly captivating.
Then he’d walked away from all of it, and he’d never looked back.
Until now.
“He might say no,” she admitted. “He probably will, actually. But I think… I think he might want to say yes. He just needs someone to ask.”
“Then ask him,” Ginger said simply. “Worst case, he refuses and we’re back to square one. Best case, we get the best musician in town to headline our festival.”
“It’s not that simple—”
“It’s exactly that simple.” Posy reached over and squeezed Sara’s hand. “You’re his mate now. If anyone can convince that stubborn rabbit to stop hiding his light under a bushel, it’s you.”
She thought about Ben’s face when he sang. The vulnerability in his eyes. The way he seemed to shed six years of armor and become someone younger, freer, more alive.
“I’ll ask him,” she said. “Tonight.”
“That’s the spirit!” Flora beamed at her. “And if he says no, I suggest going do—”
“Flora!” Sara, Posy, and Elara yelled at the same time.
“What? I’ve always found males most agreeable after—”
“For the love of God, please stop,” she begged, and Flora sighed.
“Spoilsport.”
The walk from the community center to the Moonlight Tavern took ten minutes on a good day. Today, Sara made it in five, her feet carrying her faster than her brain could keep up with.
What am I doing?
Ben had walked away from music for a reason. He’d told her about the endless parade of meaningless encounters that had left him feeling hollow and used. He’d built a new life here in Fairhaven Falls—a quieter life, a more controlled life. Who was she to suggest he tear down those walls?