Chapter 3
Hawthorne
Sweet lucky stars, it’s my lucky fuckin’ day.
Picture this: there I am, buzzing around my favorite patch of wildflowers and doing the best damn pollinating you’ve ever gosh darn seen, when the most beautiful apparition appears before my very insect eyes.
I thought I was prepared to see Aster in the flesh again after so long, only getting by on the creepy but well-meant photos that Arbor took and shared with us, but when that beautiful goddess of a woman waltzed out the back door and stood on my very own grass, it was more than a shock.
The guys warned me to be careful with her, that she might spook easily and that we needed to ease her into all this, but I happen to think differently. Personally, I think we need to go full steam ahead and fucking make it happen.
I don’t know what exactly Arbor told her to get her to come and tour her new house, probably went with the guise of needing her to help us sell it; I have very few doubts he’s going to take that ruse way too far, but if it gets us the girl, that’s fine.
She had to be wondering why the house looks like a stalker went and looked at her inspo boards and built a house from it, but we have studied each and every addition she pinned so in depth that I’m pretty sure we know Aster better than Aster knows Aster.
Is it still considered stalking if we’re destined to be together?
It took me a bit to calm down and shift from all the excitement, but when I get inside, it’s to find a very sad, very forlorn Arbor sitting on a bar stool at the beautiful white quartz waterfall countertop with a glass of iced tea. Sweetened with honey, of course.
“Where’d she go?”
“Oh Hawthorne, I messed it all up but good. I thought she’d love it! She was so upset…”
I put myself in her shoes and go to the front door, towing my love buddy with me. “Walk me through exactly what happened. I want to hear word for word what you said, and what she did, where she went, what her face did, and how you reacted.”
Luckily, Arbor’s got an excellent memory, and what he couldn’t quite remember he guessed well enough, until we put together our best estimate of why she was upset.
I stand with my hands on my hips, surveying everything again until I’m confident in my assessment.
“Clearly, she was upset that we went with the eggshell finish on the dining room wall when we painted it aubergine, not satin. You know she wanted satin. This is a disaster! We need to repaint it right away.”
I’m ready to go hop in the truck and drive to the hardware store when I spot some very interesting artifacts. “What do we have here?”
Arbor looks perplexed. “Huh. She must have been more upset than we thought? You sure it wasn’t because the light bulb we put in the lamp in the living room was more blue light leaning than yellow?
Of course she’d prefer yellow, bees are yellow and she must have a natural inclination to love anything that might remind her of us, subconsciously or not. ”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I tell him as I stop in front of the entryway mirror to tidy up my hair.
“It couldn’t have been the lamp; although, it could have been the fact that you went with beige throw pillows on the couch instead of the olive ones that Dev wanted.
We’re fucking awful at this. We’ll fix it though, don’t worry.
I’m going to run these things over to her, you just go chill in the hive, okay?
When Dev is done with whatever he’s working on, go ahead and fill him in too. Maybe he’ll have better insight.”
I’m so excited to see our girl that doesn’t know she’s ours yet that my hands tingle the entire way to see her. I’m practically vibrating in my seat, anxious to see how she reacts to me when it’s been so many years since she saw me while conscious; it could literally go any direction.
When I pull up to the real estate office Aster’s taking over, and my heart drops to see her looking so dejected, curled in on herself as she sits against the side of the building, no doubt trying to hide.
She wipes her eyes when she catches me, and if my eyes are not mistaken, her entire bosom heaves at the sight. Oh, she totally wants me.
I pull the truck parallel to the curb to block any nosy passersby from seeing her so vulnerable and roll down my window. “Hey there, stranger. Forget something?”
I hop out and pass her her effects and wait for her to be so happy to have them returned that she, I don’t know, proposes to me or something? That seems like a very reasonable outcome.
“Hawthorne— oh my gods, how are you? Shit, you look good. What are you doing here?”
She looks like she really wants a hug, so I just go for it. She’s stiff in my arms for a moment, but when I start sniffing her neck like an absolute dedicated non-creeper, she pats me on the back endearingly.
“Mmm, you always smell so good. I came to return your things to you, of course! I was out back when you were at the house.” I stare at her, refusing to blink, waiting for her to catch the hint and tell me what I want to know.
No dice.
“Oh. Um…okay?”
“You hated the entire thing, didn’t you?
You don’t think it’ll sell. You don’t think it will sell at all, do you?
Fuck. We made it super ugly. I guess we can reno it again, but um, maybe some pointers?
You seem to know what…people want. You should…
you should just tell us what you’d put in it if you were going to move into it.
” Fuck, I’m so damn smart. “Yes! Yes. What would you fix if… you were going to live there?”
She looks at me with a wobbly lip for a few seconds, then just starts bawling.
“Ugly? You think I think it’s ugly? No! I’m sad because I realized that it’s so godsdamned perfect that the thought of selling it to somebody else and letting them have it hurts my soul!
I’m sorry. I’m trying very hard to remain professional, but that doesn’t seem to be working out very well for me, does it?
“I’m sure I’m making a lovely impression; after so many years, I really hoped I’d have the upper hand when we ran into each other again, but here I am with cry-swollen eyes and a runny nose. Crazy on full display.”
I’m actually stunned into silence. That might be a first. Everyone tells me I talk too much.
Also, can we just briefly touch on the fact that she’s so fucking gorgeous?
I’ll save the poetry for later, don’t worry.
You may or may not be subjected to it at a later point in my love story.
Rest assured, that’s definitely what this is.
Reminding myself what I’m supposed to be reacting to here, I take a deep breath. Right. She ran off…because she loved the house too much? Women are so very confusing at times. “Oh.” I can so work with that. “That’s…hey, I can totally keep that between us. Okay? No worries.”
Her eyes start to twinkle a little bit, the outer ring of brown glistening in the sun.
“I just— there’s so much going on right now and I didn’t exactly know what I’d be walking into coming back here, you know?
I promise you I’m good at what I do. I think there might be a slight learning curve moving from the city to here, but I’m on it.
“You really won’t mention what I said to Arbor?
I don’t want him to think that I’m like, trying to take his product away from him.
You guys must have worked so hard to make that house look like that, you really did a hell of a job.
And I promise, when we do start showing it, I won’t even let it leak through, not even a little bit, how many people I’d maim and/or kill to own a house like that. ”
Is this an inappropriate time to pop a boner? I feel my slit part as my blood rushes south, starting the process. It’s not a fully-fledged boner like other species might get, but my pants are tight and stretchy and I’m not wearing undies, so the nub just sticks straight out of my pelvis.
Yes. Bad boner.
“Oh my god. How did that give you a boner?” She steps back, eyes wide, covering her mouth with her hand. I can't tell if she's excited about it or disgusted. Are those actually different emotions though?
Damnit, she noticed my bad boner.
“What were you doing in that truck? Actually, you know what? I don't want to know. You just take that thing and, well... never mind what I think you should do.”
In all of my years of dealing with this beautiful woman, it's mostly been through the lens of her brother.
I was never able to give her the attention that I craved, mainly because she was younger and it felt wrong.
Also, her brother Anderson would have kicked our asses.
We kind of liked having him as a friend, so we bided our time.
“You have thoughts about what you’d do to me?” Okay, she has me hooked. I really want to hear what she'll say. I’m…just a little dizzy. Luckily, her misplaced negative reaction helps my bee dick disappear back into my body.
She instantly turns away from me, covering her entire face now.
“You’re a professional. You are a professional bitch.
You're not going to entertain these thoughts.
You're not! You're going to take your things from the nice man, you're going to unlock that door, and then you're going to walk inside that office and figure out what the hell is going on with your life. When you’re in the back and away from other people, you're going to give yourself a high-five for giving such a hot man a boner without even touching him.”
She's giving herself a pep talk. I love that.
I dangle the keys over her shoulder. “You need something there, darling?” So what if my face is right next to hers? Lots of people talk to people they’re over-the-top obsessed with without them knowing like that.
She blindly reaches for them, grabbing and shaking as she tries to find the right one that opens the door.
Godsdamn what I wouldn’t give to be those keys in her hand right now.
I'm really tempted to follow her into the building, but that might lead to a setback; it seems like she has some really important plans for herself.
I have some wins in my pocket though. She wasn't crying because she hated the house. She was crying because she loved it so much that she didn't want somebody else to have it. I can work with that.
Operation steal Aster is totally on.
Oh, would you look at that? I walked inside. Guess I’m stuck now. “Wow. This place is kind of a mess, isn’t it? You want a little help putting it back to rights?”
I shove a granola bar in my mouth to stabilize my blood sugar before gravitating towards a broken chair and looking at the pieces, whipping a screwdriver out of my cute utility belt so I can reassemble it.
When that’s fixed, I straighten a picture on the wall and look for other shit that needs a manly touch.
“Um, thank you?”
I nod at her, a goofy grin on my face. “We’ll be by at six p.m. sharp for our dinner date. No need to dress up, we’re just going to Nana’s Noodles. We’ll save the fancy date for later in our relationship, can’t bring out all the bells and whistles immediately, you know?”
I start heading back to my truck, happy as a clam, jumping in the air to do an impressive heel tap. Damn, I’m in a good mood.
“Hawthorne! What the hell?”
“Yes, oh future mother of my children?” I bat my eyes for good measure.
“What the hell is wrong with your face? And did you just call me the future mother of your children? Am I missing something?”
“You gave this here penis the tingles, he feels a sense of ownership over you now. Don’t worry, he’s easy.”
She’s gaping at me. Why is she gaping at me? “I’m losing my fucking mind. That’s what’s happening, isn’t it? Why are you acting like this?”
Now I’m the confused one. “Like what? Like we’re in love and in a committed relationship? Aster, are you okay, Darlin’? Did you hit your head?”
She sinks down into the chair I just fixed, which immediately falls apart again. Oh no it doesn’t. Nobody gets to touch my girl’s ass and then cause her pain.
I assist her off the floor and then take that piece of shit out back to teach it a lesson.
I’m banging it against the edge of the dumpster the strip of businesses share when she walks out, mouth agape again, making me feel like she needs something to stopper it. Oops, that was a bit much, wasn’t it? My bad.
“Hawthorne!”
I throw the chair in and flip it off for good measure, then dust off my hands before getting back to my woman. “Yes?”
She shakes her head and grabs me by the shirt, pulling me back inside. Gods, I love an aggressive woman.
“Sit. Explain.”
“Not sure there’s much explaining to do, really.”
“I disagree,” she seethes. “I’ve been— no, that doesn’t matter. Why are you acting like you and me are a thing?”
I feel my eyebrows get all scrunchy. “Aren’t we?”
She shakes her head, eyes huge.
“Huh. I could have sworn… eh. No matter. We’ll still pick you up at six o’clock sharp. The place makes a killer plate of baklava.”
Man, I can’t wait to get back and tell the guys the good news that we didn’t fuck up the house. They’re going to be so happy we don’t have to re-do everything.