29. Rose
rose
Have you ever been so happy it’s like you’re living inside an iridescent soap bubble?
It’s beautiful and colorful, but so delicate it could burst any minute, leaving you in a free-fall?
That’s me on my way to Reed’s family cabin.
He’s got one hand on my leg while he drives, looking over every so often and smiling as if just seeing me at his side makes him happy.
It’s too good to be true.
I’ve never been this far in a relationship.
Time-wise, sure, I’ve gone far beyond this.
We only just admitted we don’t want to pretend to date last night.
But I’ve never had this much affection for someone, rewriting my cells so every one radiates with love for Reed.
Sorry, mitochondria, you have a new job now.
And I’ve never had someone care for me back this much, either.
I’m terrified I’m going to lose it.
I lace my fingers with Reed’s, trying to shove those worries aside. It’s obvious he’s excited about this trip, and I don’t want my baked-in insecurities to spoil that. The change in him is impossible to miss and fascinating to watch.
He was his usual self at work today. Maybe he went out of his way to touch me when we passed each other and snuck a few kisses in the back room, but he stayed in gargoyle mode most of the day.
But the deeper we drive into the woods, the more he loosens up, the rigidity he displayed at work relaxing into flesh.
He points out turnoffs to campgrounds or lakes he likes to visit and tells me stories about his trips to each one.
He’s got one elbow on the doorframe, chatting away as if this isn’t a totally novel side of him. He hums.
I’m tempted to pull out my camera and record him like I’m capturing footage of a cryptid. The elusive Bigfoot caught humming what sounds suspiciously like that upbeat song from Zootopia.
“That’s where my brothers and I would go when we were in high school.” He points at a big wooden campground sign as we pass. “It’s where Graham got so spooked, he gave up camping entirely. It was just a coyote, but—”
He catches me watching him, probably with giant hearts popping out of my eyes. “What?”
I squeeze his hand. “You’re cute.”
He seems satisfied with that, lifting my hand to kiss it. Let me correct myself: cute and romantic.
“This is it.” He slows to turn onto an unremarkable access road with a few mailboxes set off from the highway. It’s paved, but I suspect it’s only a matter of time before we hit gravel.
“How long has your family had the cabin?” Everyone raved about it so much, it was clear they all have special memories around it.
“My parents bought it when we were little. We never did luxury vacations or week-long roadtrips, but we’d come out here every weekend we could and just get away for a while.”
“Kind of reminds me of your cabin.”
His mouth tips down. “I haven’t made my place as comfortable as this.”
“You still could.”
He tilts his head to the side. “Maybe I could.”
After a couple of miles, he turns onto another road.
I knew it. Gravel. But it’s well maintained, with thick pine trees and sprawling bushes growing right up to the edge of the drive.
A log A-frame cabin comes into view, nestled among the trees.
Adirondack chairs and a porch swing sit out front—along with Nathan, who’s lounging in one of the chairs with his feet up on the porch rail.
He waves as we park next to the other cars.
Reed sighs. “Fair warning, he’s going to be insufferable.”
I lift his hand and kiss him back. “I can take it.”
Except I might not be able to take it. I climb out of the Bronco, and cold air smacks me like a fist. Reed told me to be prepared for cold temperatures, but I thought he meant summer cold. Not “time to go apple picking and bake pumpkin pies” cold.
Wrapping my arms around myself, I circle to where he’s got the back of the Bronco open, pulling out our bags.
“I don’t think my thin hoodie’s going to cut it up here.” My T-shirt and shorts were fine in Sunshine, but I wish I’d brought multiple layers of fleece.
He unzips his backpack and pulls out a dark green sweatshirt. I just make out Mount Hood on the front before he passes it to me. “This should help.”
I slide my arms into it and tug it over my head. It’s still warm from the car ride, but I’m going to imagine it’s his body warmth staving off the chill. Also, it smells incredible. I don’t even care that I’m huffing deodorant. I’m obsessed with it.
“What about you?” He’s not wearing any more layers than I was.
He leans down, pressing a quick kiss to my mouth. “I brought extra.”
That warms me up as well as the sweatshirt does.
We grab our things and head up to the house, where Nathan’s smirking at us. It’s a bit how I imagine people must have looked when they watched our viral video.
Reed opens the front door for me, shooting his brother a glare. “Not a word.”
Nathan raises a hand to his heart, but as soon as Reed turns away, he gives me a thumbs up. He’s adorable. I’ll take the encouragement.
Inside, exposed logs make up the cabin’s walls until they meet in the middle of the vaulted ceiling.
Sun shines in through a big window in the upper level, deceptively bright for its lack of warmth up here.
The front of the house has a small kitchen where most of Reed’s family has gathered, and a big dining table.
Three cozy-looking couches take up most of the rest of the space around the wood-burning stove in one corner.
It’s homey and unpretentious, exactly what I would have imagined for them after seeing their house.
Upstairs, there’s a loft with a railing where Jovie’s grinning down at us. “You made it!”
Her shriek alerts everyone in the kitchen to turn around and greet us. Sara, Russ, and Lucy offer me welcome hugs, quickly followed by a loving attack from Jovie.
“You’re right on time,” Sara tells us. “We’re just about ready to get dinner on.”
“Right.” Reed pulls something out of a reusable tote he brought. “Shredded cheese, as requested.”
“We can’t have baked potatoes without cheese,” Jovie says sagely. She links one arm around my waist, leaning into my side.
I eat up the closeness she’s offering. “I completely agree.”
Russ steps beside us, letting Reed take his place in the kitchen. “We keep things pretty simple up here.”
“That sounds perfect to me.”
“We get to sleep in bunk beds.” Jovie tilts her head up to look at me. “I’ll sleep in the top, and you can take the bottom.”
Lucy shakes her head. “How quickly you forget me, nugget.”
“We always share a bunk bed. I don’t want Rose to be all by herself her first time here.”
Having this little girl looking out for my comfort is honestly the sweetest thing in the world.
“Did Reed tell you the sleeping arrangements?” Lucy asks.
“He did.” Their parents have a bedroom downstairs, and there’s another with two sets of bunk beds where Lucy and Jovie usually sleep. Up in the loft are more bunk beds for the guys. “I’m ready for the bunk bed situation.”
“Good. Just in case you were worried it would be an ‘only one bed’ situation.”
Reed’s gaze snaps up to mine from where he’s helping set up dinner. My stomach flips at how intensely he’s watching me. I’m not sure he knows what the trope is, but it’s clear he’s intrigued by the context.
“I wasn’t worried,” I tell her.
Sitting around the big table with Reed’s family is like one of those montages they play in holiday movies.
Clips of the responsible oldest brother telling his daughter an obnoxious dad joke.
The quiet brother coming out of his shell.
The parents gently encouraging their granddaughter to get a little less food on her face when she eats.
The flirtatious brother making everyone laugh.
The sassy sister lamenting the lack of a bookstore in town.
The broody brother surprising everyone with a smile.
And me, the outsider they welcomed in like one of their own. I love it. I kind of hate it, too. Why did it take someone else’s family to make me feel this comfortable in my own skin? Why was that not the default at my own table growing up?
Reed rubs his hand across my back in soothing circles, tipping his head closer to mine. “Everything okay?”
I’m in a cabin in the woods eating a positively fantastic baked potato, surrounded by the kindest people I’ve ever met. Obviously, I’m on the verge of tears.
I lean in to whisper in his ear. “Your family’s wonderful.”
Just like that night with Jovie, wonderful here means “I might be having an existential crisis because I love everyone at this table.” Especially you.
He gazes at me, his warm brown eyes finding all the words I didn’t say. His hand slides up to cup my shoulder, snugging me to him. “You’re wonderful, too,” he whispers back.
The tiny, bright light of hope inside me wants him to mean it the same way that I do.
The moment’s too tempting. I move in for a quick kiss. Naturally, Jovie starts giggling.
We go back to eating, but Reed keeps his arm around me, holding me close. Grounding me. My very own emotional support grump.
“We’ve been good about not asking questions.” Lucy aims a doubtful expression at Jovie. “But we’re all dying to know what finally brought you guys together.”
“I want to know everything!” Jovie shrieks like a cheerful little pressure cooker. “What do you like about each other? Are you soulmates? How did you know you loved Rose, Uncle Reed?”
The cabin fills with muted laughter and a few cleared throats.
“Didn’t you get enough answers at game night?” Reed asks.
Jovie puts on a solemn expression. “Uncle Graham says asking questions is a sign of a scientific mind.”
“I didn’t mean questions about other people’s personal lives,” the uncle in question says.
“Tabloids are where our nation’s greatest scientists do their best work.” Nathan matches Jovie’s play-seriousness, making Graham grumble.
“Forgive our curiosity, Rose.” Sara fixes a gentle expression on me. “We’ve done our best to hold it in, but as you can see, it’s got the better of some of us.”
“Reed’s, ah, never brought a woman to family dinner before.” Russ does a better job of hiding his glee than Jovie, but not by much. “This is a first out here to the cabin, too. We’re all excited by the special occasion.”
Lucy snickers, but her smile’s genuine. That’s the thing: they’re teasing him, but it’s supportive, too. They seem truly happy for us. I can’t be offended by their questions when it so obviously comes from a place of love.
Also, I really want to know the answer to the questions.
“I’ll tell you,” Reed says, “but only because I need the heart emojis to stop filling up my phone.”
“I’ll stop!” Jovie’s bouncing in her seat, pinging with excitement.
Reed shifts, tucking me closer to him. “Rose is warm and kind, with an open heart.” He drags out his words like he’s trying to stall a dentist visit, but he still answers.
And maybe most importantly, he doesn’t clarify that he’s not in love with me.
Keep that light of hope alive. “She connects with people in ways I can’t imagine trying, going out of her way to make sure everyone around her feels welcome and valued.
She can make me laugh on my worst day. She sees my gruff face and somehow wants to get closer. ”
He’s got his whole family sighing. Yes, even Graham.
He clears his throat, hefting one giant shoulder. “She’s the best person I know.”
Is this what swooning feels like? My body’s gone all floaty, and if it weren’t for Reed’s arm across my shoulder, I’d lift up out of my chair and fly away into the clouds.
I stare at him, reminding myself we’ve got a very rapt audience, and it would be completely inappropriate to throw myself into his arms.
But oh, how I want to.
“Rose,” Sara says gently. “This might be a little much. But I’d love to hear what drew you to Reed.”
She’s so sweet. I can tell it’s her motherly affection for her son that’s making her ask and not simple intrusiveness. She wants to hear all the good things I see in him because she sees them, too. But I’d probably answer the question even if she was just snooping.
Jovie and I have a lot in common, honestly.
“Well…” I’ve never quite put those thoughts into actual words and never thought I’d do it for the first time in front of his family.
But if he’s willing, I am, too. “At first, it was that he respected me at work. He treats me like I’m capable, and he trusts my judgment. I’ve never really had that before.”
Reed’s quiet respect and trust shows he values me not just as an employee, but as a person.
Without even knowing he was doing it, he created space for me to stand on my own.
He made changes to Perk Me Up based on my advice and credited me for their success.
It’s an exhilarating feeling, to be honest. And probably why I keep finding more projects to tackle, so I can capture it again.
“And then…it was little things. When I talk, he really listens. He drops everything when someone he cares about needs him. He can be gruff sometimes, but he’s always gentle with me.
” Pretty sure my voice has gone too soft and mushy to maintain any sort of coolness here, so I might as well go for the gold.
“And he looks incredible in his Perk Me Up apron.”
The table erupts in laughter again, but I mean it with my whole chest. This man is hot.
He leans in to nuzzle his nose at my temple. “Thank you,” he whispers.
Yes, we have an audience. But they’d probably love it if I gave him another kiss. Really, it’d be rude not to give the people what they want.
I brush my lips to his, and when I draw away, he’s smiling. And that’s it. I know. I’m no longer falling, falling endlessly—I’ve landed on solid ground. Right here in his arms. I am desperately, irrevocably in love with this man.
“That’s it,” Nathan says, slapping his palm on the table. “I’m buying flannel shirts.”