Chapter 13
“Then three YouTube videos in, I realized it was probably the damn gasket in the P-trap. Once I got that figured out, it was a surprisingly easy fix. Of course, at that point, I was soaking wet and lying in a lukewarm puddle, looking like I’d peed myself.”
Zander’s shoulder brushed Penny’s again as they walked side by side on the narrow path.
All around them, clusters of lights twinkled in the dark trees as a gentle breeze played music with the chimes hanging from unreachable branches.
Penny was a practical person, but this place—full of magic and whimsy—was something she allowed herself every year.
Since she was a girl, she’d walk through this forest and let herself believe the lights really were fairies, their lives as complex and balanced as the bees in her hives.
She’d thought Zander might laugh at the place, or that walking down the trails together would be awkward.
But he’d stepped out of the truck and looked at the whole place with wonder, and now Penny’s cheeks hurt from laughing at the stories he was telling her about fixing up his grandfather’s old farmhouse.
Whether it was scraping paint off windowsills or replacing sink parts, Zander described each task as a battle of wills.
Like he even had something to prove to the walls.
“But soon I’ll be able to set up Winter’s room, so he can stay over with me sometimes, if he’s willing.
” Zander’s shoulders slumped a little. “I’m not his favorite person lately, but I don’t think he’d mind getting some space from everybody at Mal’s parents’ house.
Quinn said he’s squirming his way through every family dinner. ”
“Do you guys split time with him, back in Boston?”
“Yep. I have Fridays through Tuesdays, though we’ll sometimes all do things together on the weekend.” Twinkly fairy lights sparkled in his eyes. “You can ask, you know.”
“Ask what?”
“About Mallory and me. And Quinn. People usually have questions.”
Around them, couples and families strolled along the path, eyes wide as they looked from tree to tree. This was a popular spot on a summer night, but with trees looming over them in the darkness and Zander’s arm brushing hers, it felt like they were alone.
“You don’t owe anyone answers about your life,” she told him. “I mean, I do have questions.” It would be ridiculous to pretend she didn’t. Their situation was unique. “But that doesn’t mean I need to ask them.”
Zander laughed warmly. “How about this? You ask your questions, then spread whatever I say through the proper gossip channels. That way I don’t have to answer them all again from someone else.”
“I thought you hated the gossip mill here.”
His smile was wry. “Just because you hate something doesn’t mean it’s not real.” The trail turned right, snaking between trees. “First thing to let the good people of Sullivan’s Glen know is that Mallory and I haven’t slept together in a very long time.”
“Zander!” Penny’s face warmed. “I don’t need to know that.”
“If you don’t, somebody does. I know people wonder.”
Penny cleared her throat, trying to push back the tightness that came with thinking about Zander sleeping with anyone. “Noted.”
He slowed, looking into the trees just past Penny’s shoulder. “And if anyone asks.” Zander tipped back onto his heels. Penny was at the perfect height to watch the bob of his throat as he swallowed. “I’m not seeing anyone back in Boston.”
“Okay.” Penny swayed toward him, eyes still on the thick tendons of his throat and the crisp collar of his shirt. “Good to know.”
When she dragged her eyes up, Zander was watching her with a raised brow. “Anything else you’re curious about?”
“Um.” She stepped back, sucking in air as she started walking again.
This wasn’t a date. Yes, they were strolling through a magical forest, and she’d put on mascara and a little lipstick, and Zander was in a collared shirt and a brown leather belt that looked soft enough to pet.
But he was also someone who hated the place she called home, and would be leaving again soon enough. And she’d agreed to let him give her help with the festival—and couldn’t risk blowing up that working relationship by giving in to the urge to press her mouth to his neck.
Even though the urge was stronger each time he spoke, or laughed, or smiled at her with that mischievous look in his eye, like he knew just what she was thinking.
She walked on and returned her thoughts to the conversation. “So Quinn and Mallory are together, but Quinn was your friend first?”
“She was. We met through work and hit it off. We’d been friends for a while before she met Mal. I swear it was like Cupid was in the room when they finally met. I couldn’t have stopped them from dating even if I’d tried.”
“And was that weird for you? Like, even though I’m way over my ex, it would be hard seeing him with someone else, especially someone I know.”
They’d managed to leave much of the crowd behind, and the forest was filled with sounds of early night, what Mimi called cricket music.
“With your ex—” Zander started, leaving her to fill in his name.
“Henry.”
“With Henry, I’m going to guess that when you two broke up, you stopped talking altogether.”
“Yeah. He, uh, left town.” It wasn’t the first time he’d left, but it was, finally, the last.
“The last time you saw him, or very close to that last time, you were still together. And you’ve never had a chance to be anything else together since then. If you saw him, everything that happened between you two would feel fresh.”
Penny imagined it: Henry right here in the forest, his skinny frame and curly hair that frizzed when he brushed it, his black frame glasses and green eyes.
If she saw him now, would it be like meeting him all over again, when he’d smiled at her from across the room at the apiary conference in Rochester?
Or would it be like the last time, his eyes wet and shining as he stood at the edge of her bed?
“Yeah,” she squeezed out. “It would feel fresh.”
“But with Mal”—Zander ran a hand through his hair—“we had to keep knowing each other. Winter was our top priority, and when we realized it was time for us to separate, we both committed to making parenting work. It was awkward as fuck for a while, and we both did a lot of processing on our own time. But getting to know her that way helped me love her differently, as a friend and an important member of my family. My only family, really.”
Fast footsteps thundered toward them, and Zander stepped into Penny, brushing the back of his hand with hers as a child ran past. “Then, by the time she started dating again, I was ready.”
“And she started dating your friend.”
“Now that did suck for a while,” Zander said with a short laugh. “I was happy for them both, but sharing Quinn was hard at first. She and I have done some real trauma bonding over our shitty families, and she’s my ride or die. I was worried about losing that.”
“Did you?”
“No.” He stopped and turned to Penny. Behind him, fairies danced in the trees.
“Quinn was awesome about making sure we still spent time together on our own, and once she and Mal got serious, I had to ask myself: Would I choose anyone else to add into our parenting circle? And the answer was no.” He shrugged, his eyes still on her. “So here we are.”
As silence settled around them, Zander’s gaze roamed Penny’s face, slowing at her mouth.
She barely got out a whisper. “Here we are.”
Behind her, deeper in the forest, a barred owl began a series of loud, trilling hoots. Zander’s eyes widened as he searched the trees. “What the fuck?”
“Oh, city boy.” Penny laughed. “Never heard an owl before?”
“Not like that, Christ. It sounds like my downstairs neighbor when he watches Patriots games.” Something sparked in his eyes. “Let’s go find it.”
He swung a long leg easily over the rope strung up to designate the trail’s edge.
“Zander!” She grabbed for him, curling her fingers around his thick forearm. “We can’t. It’s not allowed.”
His dark eyes dropped to where Penny touched him, then looked back to her in challenge. “Come on, Becker. Live a little. You’re out here with the town bad boy, remember?”
“I thought you were reformed.”
One corner of his mouth tipped up. “Some things never change. Still chasing the thrill.” He slipped out of her grip and grabbed her hand as he watched her. “Please?”
The soft brush of Zander’s thumb over her knuckles undid any of her remaining hesitancy. “Fine,” she sighed, stepping over the rope. “I swear, if we get in trouble—”
But he was already tugging her through the trees. The owl remained silent, but Zander walked on.
He stopped beside a looming pine, finally dropping her hand. “I guess it left.” His gaze focused behind her. “Wow.”
She spun to look back, where the clusters of lights dotted the landscape. From back here, they looked like—
“Constellations,” Penny whispered.
“Beautiful.”
“I think I’ve come here every year of my life. But I’ve never seen it like this.”
Incredible that something in Sullivan’s Glen could feel brand-new.
Zander’s palm pressed into her lower back, the tips of his fingers their own constellation heating her skin through her thin T-shirt. It was a small touch, an innocent touch, except for how it wasn’t.
Like how his fingers traveled up her spine, drawing her breath tight. Or how he toyed with the hem of her shirt, like he was waiting to touch her bare skin just above.
“Excuse me!” a cracking voice called through the trees. “Excuse me, is someone out there? We can’t allow guests off the path.”
Penny stepped out of Zander’s touch to spin on him with a glare.
“Hello!” the voice called again.
“I told you!” she whispered. “I told you we shouldn’t—”
Zander’s finger pressed flat against her lips. The touch stilled her whole body.
“Shhh, Becker. Don’t give us away.” He nodded to the side. “Just follow me, I promise I won’t let you get in trouble.”