Chapter 6 #2
Elliott was deep in his element, a frilly floral apron around his waist. Adam scraped back his hair to tie it up for him, while Ben offered hydration in the form of a beer—with a straw in it. Lifting her knuckles to her mouth to stifle a smile, Fern watched him work.
“Butter!” Elliott called, and Adam slapped a half stick in his open palm.
Catching sight of his current sous chef, he huffed, “What are you doing in here? Get back on the grill, dude. Bring in the vegetables, and flip the chicken after the steaks, got it?”
“Yes, sir!” Able saluted Elliott’s back, tapping his solidly coiffed dark hair, sending it swaying in one singular wave. Offering Fern and Liv a wink, he turned to head onto the deck.
Ben continued to assist Elliott, and Noa appeared with drinks—two beers in one hand and a chocolate milk in the other.
A wave of overwhelming emotion sloshed around in Fern’s chest. The hominess of this whole place surprised her, as did the reception she was being given by these people who hardly knew her and owed her none of their time.
“Livvy—” Capturing her best friend’s hand, Fern swung around to face her, fighting the tears welling in her eyes. “Thank you so much for this, for helping me find my new job, the opportunity, the welcome. Thank you.”
“Awh, lovey, come here.” Liv wrapped her in a huge hug, and Noa joined in, splashing beer on all of them in the process.
It was a fantastic feeling—not the beer—leaving behind the city, a bunch of casual acquaintances, and a job she hated to land in a new place with new friends and a job she loved.
To be fair, she hadn’t started at the salon yet, but Fern felt confident life was better here in general—even with a confusing man standing a few feet away making magic happen at the stove.
“To Fern’s new beginning?” Noa asked.
“To your new beginning,” Olivia said with a grin.
“To my new beginning, let it be better than the last few.” Fern joined in on the toast, and when their glasses clinked, she thought she caught Elliott smiling at a frying pan.
“So, haircuts,” Noa began after they’d sat at the marble-capped island to keep an eye on the cooks.
Fern gave her a moment to continue but realized that was the whole of it. “Yes, that’s what I do?”
“Sorry, I got distracted by the white part of your hair. Could you do that with mine? Even if you can’t, I want an appointment. I’m in desperate need. You need a haircut too, Fitz.”
Liv snorted, and Elliott’s shoulders rounded as he looked back at them.
“Soon,” he said.
Watch, he would probably go on one of Ros’s half-days…
on purpose. Fern fought an eye roll, certain she was right.
He was so fucking weird; clearly attracted to her but unwilling to consider a relationship.
Which, for the record, she hadn’t brought up, hadn’t even thought about because they’d just met.
But he had to go and put the kibosh on whatever was between them because he was a bizarre and broody man. Freaking artists.
Maybe she should be glad she wasn’t one.
Liv leaned into Fern’s shoulder as she reached across the counter for a napkin. “Are you all right?” she whispered.
“Yeah, why?” Fern asked at full volume.
“You’re just quieter than usual.”
“Oh. I’m hungry, distracted by dinner. And yes, Noa, let’s get you in for a cut, and we can do a color consult at the same time. I’ll do a bleach-test and let you know what you’ll be in for if you want to go for it.”
“What should I do with my hair? I’m down for anything as long as I can still put it up for work. I’ve accidentally trimmed it way too many times while cutting stems for arrangements.”
“Spin, let me look at your face.” Noa turned with a grin, her dark, almond-shaped eyes sharpening with her wide smile. “You’re seriously hot. You’d look beautiful bald, with a pixie, bangs, or a shag. Whatever you want, you can pull it off.”
Preening, Noa lifted a hand beneath her chin and batted her lashes.
At the stove, Elliott huffed, rolling his neck before plating freshly sauteed green beans and moving on to whatever dish was next.
Adam returned from the grill, and once the meats, vegetables, two pies, and three warm loaves of bread were out on the island, everyone set to filling their plates, filling the table, and filling the room with conversation.
Fern hoped, stupidly, that Elliott would take a seat near her.
But he did the “chef thing” and hung near the dishes until they were each seated and eating, then he picked at a few items on the island.
“Ate while I cooked,” he rumbled when Olivia encouraged him to join the group.
On her left, Able scoffed and grabbed another steak. “How do you like town so far? Have you had a chance to check out the bar or the inn?”
“It’s the cutest place, and so far so good, but it’s only been a day. I’ve been to Reads she just had to promise not to hang it over the entrance to the shop.
From Liv and Ben, she got a new, perfect pillow with a hand-embroidered design of the main waterfall, made by someone in town.
She opened Elliott’s present last, her own take-home loaf of bread, as promised.
There was also a hand-thrown serving platter, a large salad bowl, and a tiny little dish on four stubby legs.
The dish would make a great ashtray or a candy bowl—one or the other, but definitely not both.
Each piece was glazed a different color.
They’d look perfect in her apartment, mismatched but meant to be a set, like her pillows, her towels, her dining chairs. .. everything she owned.
On her search to thank Elliott, she found him in the far corner of the room with his shoulders hunched, looking down at his phone.
“Thank you all so much,” she shouted, announcing her gratitude broadly instead. “I feel like it’s my freaking birthday. This is amazing!”
“Anything for you, my newest bestie.” Noa toasted her, “To Fern! Welcome to Beckett Falls!”
The group returned the sentiment, and one voice mumbled, lower than the rest. With a sigh, she finished her wine and accepted a refill from Ben, who was walking around with a bottle.
Even though Adam was talking to her about a second waterfall near his house, Fern’s gaze kept drifting to Elliott.
He’d let his hair down again and kept dragging his hands through it.
She’d wanted to do that when he’d kissed her but hadn’t had the chance.
Ben reached Elliott with the wine and was waved off before the two men had a brief, hushed conversation. Then Elliott disappeared onto the back patio and didn’t return.
The rest of the evening passed quickly, probably because Fern didn’t have anyone to sneak glances at from across the room.
“Liv, I’m going to have to come grab this stuff tomorrow,” she said, studying the footed bowl from Elliott, glossy and smooth, in all shades of blue.
“Why? We can help you carry it out to your car.”
“Oh, I walked.”
“Fern!”
“I’ll give you a ride,” Able offered, “I’m driving Noa, too.”
“Don’t you know there’s wild animals out here, Fern?” Olivia asked as Ben joined her on the cushy brown sofa and pulled her into his side.
“Only me?! Noa walked—and Elliott.”
“Fitz and Noa don’t count, they’re locals,” Ben offered.
“Ah, the wild animals check for proof of residence? Should I carry two bills and my ID?” Fern asked sarcastically.
With a punch of laughter, Adam reiterated, “I’ll give you a ride home, and I’ll even bring your new shit upstairs.”
That wouldn’t be so bad. It had been a long day… maybe not the longest Saturday ever, but at least top three.
“Thank you,” she replied with a smile, though she couldn’t help but wish it was Elliott offering to help.