Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
IRIS
I ris crawled to her normal side in the shorter-than-normal bed of the VW bus an hour later. Sam still slept without a shirt, which she was starting to look forward to each night, seeing the dips and grooves of his muscles.
She couldn’t stop marveling at the boy she’d known who had turned into the man in front of her. It felt like when the optometrist added the lenses until you could finally see the picture clearly. He’d come into focus with two images blurring in and out of each other: the distant past and the present of who he was now.
“Tell me something that’s happened to you since college,” she said.
“You want my resume?”
She knew his resume, but she’d never tell him that. She’d poked around his portfolio as she’d drowned her sorrows in tequila sodas and pecan cluster ice cream, feeling like an absolute failure as she edited yet another issue of the Finger Lake Scallywag .
She tapped her fingers, thinking. “Something a girlfriend would know. In case we get tested.”
He threw back the covers and crawled in next to her. She now looked forward to the intimacy of sleeping next to him. It’d been a long two years since she’d been with anybody. She’d had a couple of one-night stands (no thank you) but no one she wanted to sleep over.
“Since senior year in college, I…” He thought for a minute. “Got a pierced ear,” he said with a grimace.
“No,” she gasped. Shocked, she sat up to look at his earlobes.
A small scar marked his lower left lobe. “Just this one, and I hated it. Did it on a dare from a journalist friend when we were on assignment in Paris.”
“Oh, that sounds not even a little fabulous and glamorous,” she said, mocking him with a pouting face.
“It is not glamorous when it gets infected and you don’t know the word for antibiotic in French.”
“So you became a bad boy for two weeks. What else?” She leaned on her elbow a few inches from his face. He’d had to curve his body around the mattress since it wasn’t quite long enough for him.
“My favorite type of food is ramen, but only when it’s cold outside. When it’s hot, sushi, obviously.”
Her jaw dropped. “You famously made a whole thing about not ever eating raw fish.”
“Well, I was wrong then. And young and stupid,” he said, laughing at being called out.
She sat up straight in bed. “Stop the presses. I should roll down the window and yell, ‘Sam Larsson admitted he was wrong and I was right about one fucking thing,’” she said as she poked his side.
“A broken clock is right twice a day,” he said as he laughed. He grabbed her hand to stop her from poking him again and held it against his chest. Their eyes connected and they stilled.
There was that moment again.
That pause of maybe…more. This something else that had been growing in the air between them.
Flutters somersaulted around her midsection and danced lower at his heated look. Warmth flowed from her hand still against his chest.She wanted to flex her hand to feel it but clenched her core instead.
“What about you? What’s changed with you?” he asked, finally dropping her hand.
“That’s the worst part,” she sighed, moving to lie down. “There’s hardly anything to tell.”
“Come on,” he said, nudging her. “You can’t possibly still be into Twilight .”
“I stand by that movie,” she said reflexively, pointing a warning finger at him.
“What would a boyfriend know?”
She sighed, hating to tell the story. To get into it and relive her failure.
“That I was relieved when Bart called off our engagement because I hadn’t been brave enough to do it. That I feel like a gigantic failure because I—of all people—followed a boy instead of my own career. That I’m twenty-nine and waiting for my life to start. That maybe it started a few days ago.” She gasped for air as it had all rushed out.
Realizing with a crashing wave of anxiety that, yep—she’d overshared. She’d said too much, and given him all the ammunition. She looked over with one eye open, waiting for a smart comeback.
Instead, he stared at her, a small smile on his face. “Then I’m glad I’ll witness how your extraordinary life will finally start.”
A lump caught in her throat and she looked away, blinking through unexpected, sudden emotion. Her sister was crazy successful. Her parents didn’t understand her dreams. Friends were kind but constantly reassured her she was ‘crazy and already killing it.’ It had been a long time since she’d felt seen.
And for better or worse, Sam saw her.
The bed smelled like a campfire from where the smoke had blown on them, and dim string lights swayed in the now gentle rain outside. This was the most perfect way to fall asleep, she decided. A kind man next to her, listening to the sound of rain in a warm bed on a chilly night, covered in heavy quilts.
“Thanks,” she whispered.
“Night,” Sam said in the dark.
“Night.”
* * *
SAM
Sam awoke the next morning to an empty spot beside him. Sunlight streamed in through the windows of the VW bus.
Around 2 a.m. the night before, he’d woken up with his arm around Iris with her tucked into his side. She’d looked so innocent as she slept. He was used to the Iris that was his verbal fencing partner, but last night he finally saw a glimpse of the soft underbelly she hid so well.
As she slept, her hair had fanned out beside his face, smelling like plums and vanilla. He’d allowed himself a moment to enjoy just holding her, soaking in that scent, before he moved his arm. She’d always had gorgeous, thick, wavy chestnut hair. It felt surprisingly soft against his face as she cuddled into him. He didn’t mind it spread out over his pillow.
He didn’t mind it at all, in fact.
He sat back and took in the bus. As far as romantic rooms went, he had to admit, this was near the top of what they’d experienced thus far. The first two inns were gorgeous but stately and grand, overwhelming. Here, all you had was each other, and it turned out, sometimes that was all you needed.
A strange chant outside shook him out of his daydreaming. He peered out the window; an orderly line of people waited to chop wood, happily chanting and clapping their hands.
Something didn’t feel right. His gut was never wrong, and he’d trusted it to save his life more than once out in the field in dangerous conditions.
This was a sleepy, camp vibe of an inn, but something felt off . The people were too happy. They all wore the same expression and similar clothes, aside from a couple of guests like him and Iris.
They were scheduled to stay there for one more night to get a feel for everything that Happy Glamping had to offer. During the car ride the day before, Iris had babbled on about all the activities she wanted to try—pumpkin harvesting, a naturally occurring hot spring, and a guided tour through the hills on a nature walk.He hated to ruin her adventure, but safety first—always.
He tossed back the covers, still feeling the dread in his stomach that was never wrong. Tossing clothes in his bag, he packed his camera equipment and even took the liberty of packing Iris’s things. Thankfully, she’d kept all her clothes in her bag, so all he had to grab was her toiletries and toss it in with his.
Once he found Iris, he’d convince her that they needed to cut this short. He still wasn’t exactly sure why, but the creepy founder, the weird words they’d been using, it didn’t add up to ‘inn’ to him.
A few minutes later, his hiking boots met the floorboards of the first activities building as his eyes searched for Iris. She wasn’t in the crafts building or out doing autumn yoga. She wasn’t in the ominous wood chopping line (thank god), and so finally, he entered the main building.
The whitewashed walls of the kitchen were worn but fashionable, as though they’d been weathered on purpose. Sam searched until his eyes finally landed on the face he’d never expected to feel relieved to see.
Iris had an apron on, rolling dough using an old wooden rolling pin. A streak of flour was dashed across her nose. Her curly hair had been pulled into a high ponytail, and she laughed as Tags showed her how to use the rolling pin. He had his arms around each side of her, talking beside her ear.
She laughed, looking over her shoulder at him as they chatted. Everyone else in the kitchen was happily working and chatting away as if nothing was amiss.
Sam’s blood boiled at the lecherous look in Tags’s eyes as he rolled the pin for Iris with his arms around her. It’s fine. I’ll be calm.
“Good morning,” he barked. Okay, maybe not that calm.
Iris snapped her head up to see him.
“Oh, hi! Good morning,” she said, happier than he’d seen her the last few days. “I’m making Tags’s famous cinnamon rolls.” She looked positively delighted.
“I see,” he said, his eyes never leaving Tags.
Why are his arms wrapped around my Iris?
Damnit. He wiped his hand down his face in frustration at himself. Just Iris.
“Hey, man. Good morning,” Tags said, squeezing Iris’s shoulders. “This one is a lost cause when it comes to properly rolling out cinnamon rolls.”
Sam stared at him, gritting his teeth.
“Oh,” Iris said, breaking away and wiping her hands on a towel, moving out of Tags’s orbit. “I was going to bring you a latte, but I got distracted. I’m sorry. It’s probably cold.”
She held out an earthenware mug with foamed milk and cinnamon.
“It’s really good,” she said, a happy light in her eyes. “Tags is going to lead the nature walk through the leaves. I figured we could go if you’re up for it. Would make great photos.”
“Hey, man, it’s going to be amazing . We take the gondola up through the trees, soaring over everything, and then we have a leisurely five-mile walk back down to camp. It’s part philosophical salon, part commune with nature.”
People walked through the kitchen with the same loopy smile on their face.How did Iris not see all the weird signs around here?
“Would you excuse us?” he said to Tags.
“Sure. See you in fifteen minutes at the base of the gondola lift entrance,” Tags called.
Sam grabbed Iris by the elbow and pulled her to the door. “We need to go.”
She scowled up at him.“Absolutely not. I’m so close to getting time with him for an exclusive interview.”
“Look around.” He gestured outside. “Something doesn’t feel right.”
“All I see are heaping piles of vegan baked goods that smell like nutmeg and people connecting with each other. You’re probably just anxious. Maybe take a nap”—she untied her apron—“and I’ll go on the gondola ride.”
As she started to walk away, he grabbed her hand. He’d haul her over his shoulder if necessary. “Absolutely not.”
“Excuse me? You are not my”—she lowered her voice to a hissed whisper—“real boyfriend. I am an adult woman and I can do what I want.” Her foot stomped to emphasize her point.
“Iris, people were lined up for some sort of wood-chopping ceremony this morning, and don’t you think it’s weird how they all sort of adore Tags? I mean, the guy was given $10 million by his parents and sold a company for $8 million, and they think he’s some sort of genius?”
Okay, so he’d gone down a research rabbit hole when he couldn’t sleep last night. “He’s not who you think he is. He’s not some prophetic genius who knows how to make the world a better place. His real name is William. He chose Tags. Come on, let’s go anywhere else.Please.”
“I think you’re just jealous.” She threw the apron over her arm with smug satisfaction. “Because he was flirting with me.”
A fire stoked in his belly. “Oh, like you were jealous of Jess?”
“Of course I was jealous of her. She practically shoved me off of her tiny staircase so she could have you herself.”
Happiness bloomed in his chest at the idea of her being jealous. Ha .
“Fine, and maybe I was a little jealous,” he admitted, “that his hands were all over you. You don’t even know him. I’m gonna down this coffee and we’re getting the fuck out of here.”
He sipped the latte as he tugged Iris’s hand to bring her through the kitchen toward their car. He stopped in his tracks and looked in his cup. “Wait, what is this? Is this oat milk?”
Ember called from across the room with a happy smile. “It’s ferret milk made from our own free range ferrets on site. We’re vegans otherwise.”
Sam spit his coffee back into the cup. “Ferrets?” he yelled, wiping his mouth. Iris looked as shocked as he was.
“They’re so cute,” another woman said beside Ember.
“We gotta go.” Sam slammed the mug down on the table, not caring who heard it anymore.
“Oh, you can’t leave early,” Ember said as she stepped in front of him, serene expression still in place but eyes burning. “We’d love to extend your stay. You’d be a great fit in this intense-living community.”
Tags came over behind Ember.“Yeah, we were talking about it last night. We love the vibe you have.”
“Extend our stay?” Iris said with her head cocked to the side. “I don’t know if that’s in our budget,” she added with a nervous laugh.
“Oh, no,” Ember said. “You wouldn’t pay as long as you signed a promise to the land and joined our collective. You’d stay for as long as we like.”
…As long as they like?
Iris took a step toward the door with panicked eyes. “Oh no, we can’t do that. We have a…”
Sam threw his arm around Iris as they backed away slowly. “…a baby. Yep, we have a baby at home.”
“We love kids here. They have their own school. You can stay here while they’re brought to you.”Tags smiled at them with his stupid floppy hair hanging over his eyes.
A man with long, waist-length hair popped into the kitchen.“Last call for the eleven o’clock commune.”
“Oh, that’s us. We’ll see you at the lift, okay guys?” Tag said, tapping each of them on the shoulder as they left.
“Oh my god.” Iris turned to Sam slowly. Her shocked face went pale. “Sam, this is a cult.”
He interlaced their fingers and tugged her outside to their car.“If you’d listen to me one time?—”
Iris pulled away and jogged toward the VW van.“I have to get my stuff,” she hissed.
Sam grabbed her around the waist and hauled her to him to speed up their walk to the car in the opposite direction.“Already in the car. Let’s go.”
They hustled through the gravel, walking quickly so they didn’t draw attention.
A group of people waved to them heading in the opposite direction. “See you at the lift.”
“Sure thing,” Sam said with a laugh. “Gotta get our reusable water bottles.”
“Way to be intense with your ecological impact,” the stranger called with a thumbs-up as they walked away.
“Oh my god. Oh my god. This is a cult,” Iris said as her breath came in short, shallow breaths.
“Just play it cool,” he said, walking slowly and waving to another couple walking toward the lift.
Only two hundred feet until we get to safety.
“Don’t leave yet, come meet the ferrets.” A tall woman in an apron stood in front of an enclosure with a long animal in her arms. She waved its little paw around with a wide smile.
“Sam,” Iris said, her voice wobbly. “She’s waving a ferret at us.”
“Don’t look at the ferret. Look at the SUV,” he said, fully realizing the ludicrousness of the words coming out of his mouth.
They unlocked the SUV, and Sam let out a sigh of relief when the car started. Tags hadn’t pulled a nuns in The Sound of Music situation and cut the lines of the car.
Sam tore down the gravel driveway, trying to avoid pedestrians as they popped out. He slowed down to take a sharp curve back toward the main road as people stopped and waved to them with wide smiles.
“They have crazy eyes, Sam,” Iris said, shrinking back in the seat.
Sam pressed on the gas as they peeled out of the gravel driveway.
Once they were back on paved road, safely out of the campgrounds of the inn, Sam realized his fingers were still intertwined with Iris’s in a death grip.
He watched out of his rear view mirror to make sure this wasn’t going to turn into some sort of Texas Chainsaw Massacre situation where they couldn’t get out. Once they were on the highway going south, they breathed a sigh of relief.
He wasn’t going to move his hand. Hopefully, Iris won’t either.
As the reality of what they’d just escaped settled in, the image of a ferret being waved at them crossed Sam’s mind, and he bit back a laugh.
“What are you laughing at?” Iris said.
A bubble of laughter burst out. “I just–”
“It’s the ferret, isn’t it?” she said, cracking a smile. “Did you see”—she started laughing as he wheezed—“her little paw?” She wheezed silently with him. “She was screaming, ‘Take me with you!’” she said in a high-pitched voice.
Tears of laughter streamed down Sam’s face.
“We were almost in a ferret cult,” he said. “I don’t think they’re gonna make the cut of the top romantic hidden gems in Vermont.”
“Oh, but the VW bus was so cute,” Iris said, wiping her eyes from laughter and unfortunately letting go of his hand. “And the cinnamon rolls, oh my gosh. They were delicious.”
“No cults, Bertone. Think of the American public.”
“At least it wasn’t a sex cult.” Iris shuddered. “Can you imagine Tags’s spindly body making sex moves on me? Bleh.”
Sam said nothing, despite wanting to point out that that was exactly what Tags had been doing earlier in the day.
He handed her his phone to punch an address into the GPS. “Let’s go to the next one early. Maybe we’ll stay there an extra night if they have a room available.”
“Maybe they’ll even have two beds,” Iris said with hope.
“Maybe.” He looked over at her with a smile. Hopefully not. He’d already gotten too used to being next to her. “Remind me of the town it’s in?”
Her smile was hopeful as she finally relaxed in her seat. “Benning Falls.”