Chapter 11
MILES
I didn’t notice I wasn’t in my own bed in the cabin until I stumbled to where the bathroom usually was and ran directly into the wall.
Which, coincidentally, did not do my headache any favors.
I’d been mostly good last night, alternating water with drinks, but people kept offering them to me and they were so nice, it felt rude to refuse, and then…
I squinted at the bare wall in front of me.
Booker. I remembered him… lifting me?
Wow.
No one had ever lifted me clear off my feet before. Not since I’d been a toddler, anyway.
Apparently he’d carried me all the way…
Well, this had to be his bedroom, didn’t it? I’d glanced in when he let me use the shower, but I hadn’t really registered anything about it.
The bed had been comfy, at least.
I jumped as my phone started vibrating in my pocket and fumbled to get it out and stop the alarm before it could wake Booker. Wherever he was. He had to be somewhere, right?
I got my answer when I wandered out into the living area.
On the sagging couch, under a plaid blanket that might have been as old as I was, the shape of his body rose and fell with the rhythm of his breathing.
If I’d been asked, I would’ve expected him to snore, but as I watched him in stunned silence he never made a sound except for the faint creak of the cushions as he shifted his weight.
He’d slept on the couch. His own couch. And tucked me into his bed.
I crept to the bathroom to avoid waking him. By the time I was done cleaning up as best I could, Booker was sitting up on the couch, yawning and stretching his arms over his head.
“Hey,” I said.
I hadn’t meant to make him jump nearly out of his skin, but I couldn’t help laughing when he did.
“Yeah, yeah, sneaking up on an old man,” he said, a smile giving away that he wasn’t really upset. “Hilarious.”
“You’re hardly an old man,” I said, flopping down on the couch beside him now that there was space. I closed my eyes again, enjoying the body heat he’d left behind.
I was so exhausted my bones were googling last minute vacation deals.
“How’re you feeling?” Booker asked, soft and low and gentle.
“You mean how hungover am I? Not particularly,” I said. Now that I had my bearings, that was the truth. I’d made it out more or less unscathed, minus the passing out downstairs and waking in unfamiliar surroundings. “Tiny headache. Could eat my own weight in waffles. Comfy here.”
Booker chuckled. “You’re full of surprises.”
“I’m full of guilt,” I admitted. “You… I… look, I realize I just said you’re not an old man, but I’m too old to sleep on a couch, so I assume you are too.”
“I’ll live,” Booker said, shifting. Several cracks suggested he was downplaying the situation. I let him have it, since I got the feeling he was a man who didn’t like to be fussed over. “You fell asleep in a crowded bar.”
“I did, didn’t I?” I paused to cover a yawn. “Someone tucked a jacket around me.”
Someone ought to fuss over Booker sometimes. Everything I’d seen of him or heard about him told me he took care of everyone. Who was taking care of him?
“Ward, I think,” Booker responded. “He likes you.”
“I like him,” I said, blinking my eyes open so I could look at Booker. He was gently rumpled in the morning, hair just a little out of place, face softer than usual. “I… felt like people liked me, last night. It was like before. Before… y’know.”
“Stuff,” Booker finished for me. I was grateful he didn’t seem to be planning to make me talk about it again.
“Stuff,” I agreed.
A few heartbeats of silence passed, but they weren’t uncomfortable at all. I was never uncomfortable with Booker, for whatever reason. He must’ve had that effect on a lot of people.
“Thank you,” I spoke up again once I’d gathered the strength. “For taking care of me last night. You could’ve just shooed me out of the bar and sent me marching home.”
“You would’ve slept in the gutter. You were exhausted. And then I’d get in trouble with the town planners for it.”
I snorted. “Seth said I should hope I never have to deal with them.”
Booker laughed. “You know, I’ve never actually had to. This place was a bar when I bought it, so it was just business as usual when I took over.”
“What did you do before?” I asked. I hadn’t really thought of Booker having a before. He might’ve been born behind the bar here. I wouldn’t even have been all that surprised. It suited him.
“You’ll laugh,” he said.
I shrugged. “I might. Try me.”
“I used to be a lawyer,” Booker said.
I stared at him. Then blinked. Then stared some more.
I tried to picture him in a suit, but my imagination wasn’t quite up to the task. Booker looked like he’d been wearing a flannel shirt and jeans for the past almost-forty years.
“Wow,” I said, unable to hide my surprise. “There are so many other professions I would’ve guessed first.”
“Like?” Booker raised an eyebrow.
“I dunno.” I gestured helplessly. “I would’ve guessed kindergarten teacher or veterinarian before lawyer. You’re so sweet.”
Booker chuckled. “I didn’t say I was a good lawyer,” he said. “It’s kind of a family profession. My dad teaches law, Mark started out in law, too, my mom was a DA until she retired. That’s a—”
“District attorney, I know,” I said, still in shock. “Wow.”
“Well, at least you’re not laughing,” Booker said. I might not have been laughing, but he was smiling so broadly it made his grey eyes sparkle.
“Do people normally laugh?”
Booker shrugged. “People normally don’t ask. Seth knows, and so does Andre. It’s probably come up with a few other people. But no one’s ever asked me outright before.”
“Research librarian,” I said, even as my heart sank at the thought that no one had cared to find out. “I like to know things.”
“I’d say I was an open book but that’d sail too close to being a pun for comfort,” Booker said, lips twitching. “You want breakfast before I take you home?”
“I thought we were going fishing?” I asked, frowning. I’d done so much research on local trout fishing. I’d been meaning to show up prepared.
I could never admit it to Evie, but I was even looking forward to it. What was the point of making such a huge life change if not to try new things?
“You…” Booker trailed off, blinking at me. “I… thought… I mean, you’re exhausted, and you really don’t have to. I was more or less kidding when I asked.”
“Oh.”
I might have liked to hide my disappointment, but I couldn’t. Who else was going to take me fishing?
“Did you want to?” Booker asked after a heartbeat, as though he couldn’t believe he was saying the words.
“Well… yeah,” I admitted. “I mean, it’s fine if it’s too much trouble. I just thought, umm. Could be a fun new experience? If you don’t hate the idea of having to teach me from absolutely zero knowledge?”
Booker’s smile—the one that lit up the whole room like the sun—came back with full force.
Did people try to make him smile often? They should have.
He had the most incredible smile. Not because his teeth were particularly straight or gleaming or his mouth was perfect or anything, but because it was so obvious he meant it when he smiled. That you’d earned it.
I liked earning it.
I liked Booker.
“I’d be honored,” he said. “Did you, uh. Wanna go home and change first, though?”
I shrugged, looking down at my third-favorite pair of wool pants. “My entire wardrobe looks more or less like this,” I said. “What you see is as outdoorsy as it gets.”
“And you still wanna go?” Booker raised a skeptical brow.
“I’ve been on one hike in my whole life and I sprained my ankle and my baby sister and her best friend had to carry me out,” I said. “But I already know you can lift me. And I know you’ll take care of me.”
“Always,” Booker promised.
I shrugged, standing up and gesturing toward the door. “Then let’s go catch some fish.”