4. Will
4
WILL
"How'd you find this place?" Jude asks as we all stand outside the bigger-than-expected "Timber Falls Cozy Corner" furniture shop.
I'm not sure 'shop' is an accurate description. The place is huge , almost big enough for the four of us to walk in and lose each other. Not what you'd expect in a small town in the middle of the Alaskan mountains. It should be called a Mega Mart. A furniture-palooza even.
"C'mon. Let's go see if we can find what we're lookin' for," Case says, pushing the door open and ushering us through.
We go our separate ways once inside, the sheer amount of decor themes and different woods, designs, and colors are enough to overwhelm anyone . That's before I realize that the shop doesn't just have a big frontage, it's just as deep as it is long, and filled to the brim with everything and anything you could ever need or want for your home.
"Where the hell do we start?" I mutter to myself.
"I could help you with that," a warm melodic voice says out of nowhere.
I turn toward the sound, my eyes locking on a cute blonde with hair swept over her shoulder in a long side plait, a soft welcoming smile mesmerizing me at first sight. Whoa .
After standing for far too long without speaking, her grin widens until it's beaming so bright it's almost blinding. "I'm sorry just to pounce on you, but I've been waitin' to meet y'all and it seems like today is my lucky day." I stare at her while she speaks before realizing she's stopped.
You can't blame me though. She's beautiful, breathtakingly so. Her eyes are a cerulean blue, the color of the Alaskan sky on a clear summer's day. Her lashes are long and dark, drawing me in and contrasting against her fair skin that's covered with a small smattering of freckles over her nose and kissing her cheeks. Those are now tinged pink as my gaze drops to full pink pouty lips with pops of glitter on them that shimmer in the shop lights.
"Um…"
"Damn. I'm so sorry. Kind of zoned out there," I say with a shake of my head.
She scrunches her nose. "Huh? You're apologizin' to me?"
"Well, here you are bein' nice and friendly and doin' your job, and all I'm doin' is standin' there and starin'."
"Oh, that." She waves her hand in the air. "Don't you worry, I did kind of jump-scare you."
"Wait… did you just say you've been waitin' to meet us? I'm not sure I know you,"
This time she giggles and the sound is almost better than her voice. "That's because you don't, so how 'bout we remedy that? Hi. I'm Birdie, and I'm guessin' you're one of the Cooper brothers from the ranch up the mountain ridge. Am I right?"
My brows scrunch. "I am. I mean—we are. Will Cooper, nice to meet you," I reply.
"Good to finally put a face to the name. Dad and I were friends with your grandfather–with Ridley. I'm so sorry for your loss." She gently places her palm on my forearm, and I swear I can feel the heat of her skin through the fabric. "He was a great man—a little quirky and a lot stubborn, but he was inherently good deep down inside, and at the end of the day, that's what's important, you know?"
This woman loves to talk, and when usually that would annoy me, with her it's like I can't get enough.
"Thank you. It had been a long time since I'd seen him, and even longer since I'd been up to the ranch. But you're right, he was one of a kind, that's for sure."
"For sure," she says with a nod. "So, y'all are furniture shoppin'?"
My lips twitch. "I assume that's why someone would come to the Timber Falls Cozy Corner furniture store."
Her eyes alight with amusement. "You'd be right there. It's why I came here."
"And now you've offerin' to help me."
"Sure am," she says, grinning again. "So, what are you lookin' for?"
I tear my eyes away from the widow's peak on her hairline, my eyes trailing over the curve and stopping at the point. "Is your name really Birdie?" I blurt out.
Birdie leans in and drops her voice to a whisper. "It is , but it gets even worse. My Dad calls me 'Little Bird'. Ma used to say I chirped instead of cried when I was born." She shrugs. "Guess the name stuck."
"It's certainly unique. I'm not sure I've ever met a Birdie before," I say, fighting to ignore my racing heart. It started just moments before she first spoke to me and hasn't stopped. It can't be nerves. I just wish I knew what it was so I could fix it.
"Well, it's nice to meet you, officially anyway. Ridley used to talk about all of you all the time. He seemed very proud of what you were doin' and always said he wished y'all would come home eventually," she says.
"He said that? About comin' home?"
"Sure did. When he came back from Nebraska, he seemed different though. More introverted, I guess. When his health started to take a turn, Dad and I would visit every week just to check in and make sure he was doin' OK."
My eyes widen. This woman and her father really did know Gramps. He would've equally loved and hated their check-ins because he was fiercely independent—and by all accounts—more so leading up to his passing. "Thanks for doin' that. I'm glad y'all were there for him. He certainly didn't let us know that there was anythin' wrong."
"Why doesn't that surprise me? He was a private man, but if you were in his small circle, he was a hell of a man to have as a friend," she says with a fond expression.
My chest tightens and I recognize the need to get this conversation back on track. "OK. Back to furniture shoppin'. As you can imagine or know from visitin' him, the ranch house needs a bit of–"
"A bit?" she giggles. "Will, let's get real here. It needs a lot… of everythin' ."
"Yeah." I can't help but grin. I never smile this much, no wonder my cheeks are hurting. "It needs some TLC, some new furniture at the very least."
Her eyes light up, turning them an even brighter shade of blue. They're addictive, and some part of me wishes I could look into them forever. Wait, what? This woman is a stranger. I only just met her. Calm down, Will .
"I'd love to help you with that, as long as I'm not oversteppin' or anythin'. I can be a little… pushy sometimes, forward, eager, all the above?" She blushes and I find myself staring again. She's distracting but in a good way.
How is it that I meet a woman who's like a siren calling me without knowing anything much about her—having just met her—when dating should be the very last thing on my mind? Yet right when I least expect it, I cross paths with Birdie who's charming, cute, rambly… unavoidable…
"Will? Is everythin' OK? Am I too much? I've been told that before."
Now that registers in my brain, snapping me right back into the now. "Someone said you were too much? To your face? Seriously?"
She shrugs and for the first time I see a little bashfulness peeking through the seemingly unshakeable confidence. If I thought I was reeled in before, that's nothing after her showing me that tiny sliver of her soft spot.
"No woman should ever be told she's too much. Whoever told you that deserves to find someone more on their level. Someone obviously less ."
Her big bright blue eyes widen as she stares at me in wonder, her pink lips parting on a silent gasp.
I take a deep breath. "Sorry if I misspoke. I just hate when other people talk down to others just because they're insecure within themselves. You know?"
"I just– wow . You really just said that?" she whispers, her tone filled with awe.
"Yeah, sorry." I rub the back of my neck and stare over her shoulder, spotting my three brothers standing together on the opposite side of the store watching me–us–and grinning like loons.
"Don't be. Straight talkers like straight talkers. My mom always told me to be unapologetically myself and as I've grown older, I've found that's the exact sort of person I tend to gravitate to."
"Or approach at a furniture shop." I smirk, watching as she grins.
"Apparently so."
"Your mom sounds like a smart woman."
"She was," Birdie replies. "She passed a while ago. It's just me and Dad now. And believe me, lookin' after him is more than enough to keep me busy."
"Is this your shop too?" I ask, looking around the place and ignoring whatever my brothers are doing—which right now seems to be gossiping amongst themselves and making kissy faces at me when Birdie's back is turned.
"Nope. Just happened to be here this mornin' and followed a hunch I had about who y'all were." She angles her head and pins me in place with those blue weapons of hers. "Did you still want some help though?"
"Sure, I've got a list…" I pat my jean pockets for the list, kicking myself when I realize Cayson has it, the man himself arching a brow as he waves said piece of paper in the air. Then I realize what she just said. "Wait, did you just say you don't work here?"
She giggles and looks a little bit guilty. "Nope, I don't. But that doesn't mean I don't like decoratin'. I'm goin' through a cookin' experimentation phase right now, but two months ago, I was learnin' about interior decoratin'. I hope you don't think that means I can't help though…"
"OK… can't say I've ever had a stranger go out of her way to help me do somethin' when they're not bein' paid to do it. But if you really want to…"
I don't know what it is about this woman but I'm already sad that she's goin' to have to leave soon. How weird is that? I don't even know much about her.
"I've got some time before I have anywhere else to be," she says with a shrug. "The least I can do is point you in the right direction. Then you can go see Joan at the counter for any specific requests you've got. I know y'all have come from big cities, so she might have to order stuff in if you're wantin' fancy stuff."
I laugh and her brows bunch as she scans my face looking adorably confused. "Sorry, thankfully none of us are fancy because otherwise we probably wouldn't survive livin' together up at the ranch house." I stop for a moment. That's a lie. Cayson , the twin standin' by the bookcase tryin' to look inconspicuous and like he's not watchin' me fumble things with you, he's probably the fanciest one out of the lot of us. Even brought his expensive coffee machine from San Francisco with him to take up the mountain. Right now, it's probably the most expensive thing in the place."
Birdie laughs and sneaks a peek over at where my brothers are trying—and failing—to look like they're not watching us. Yet again. She snorts as her shoulders start shaking with her laughter. "Well, every place needs a touch of fancy now and then, and there ain't nothin' wrong with a good cup of coffee."
Despite the chaos of moving and the weight of Gramps's passing and wanting to make him proud, Birdie feels like the first breath of fresh air I've had in months… maybe a lifetime. Weird considering I've just met this woman.
"OK, so no list. How 'bout we just walk around and see if anythin' catches your eye? Sometimes that can be the best way to get a feel for what you want or don't want. You know what I mean?"
I let my gaze roam over her oval face. "Like a vibe?"
Her whole face lights up. "Yes! Exactly like that. So, how 'bout it, Will Cooper? Wanna see if we can pick up on a vibe for your bachelor pad up on Cooper's Ridge?"
A chuckle escapes me. Her cheerful disposition is contagious—even for me. I even wonder if she managed to get Gramps to crack a smile. Wait…
"What makes you think the ranch is a bachelor pad?"
"Is it not?"
"I've only been here for a few weeks and my brothers just a few days?" I shoot back. "Not sure enough time has passed for it to qualify as a bachelor pad just yet. "
Birdie makes a show of rubbing her chin and staring up at the ceiling. "Good point well made, Will Cooper. Maybe which can say it's a bachelor pad in waitin'."
I nod, unable to wrap my head around just how surreal this morning has been. And that's just since we walked into the store.
Birdie leads the way as we walk around the store. While we do that, she offers up suggestions and points out different 'vibes and aesthetics. It all looks like different colored furniture to me, but what do I know? But surprisingly, her plan works, and soon enough, I have a clear picture forming in my head of just what kind of pieces we need.
"There's always the DIY option too, you know," she adds. "There's somethin' special about breathin' new life into old things, don't you think? Like what y'all might do with Cooper Ranch?"
"If a booby trap doesn't get us first, sure," I reply with a wry grin, earning a knowing smirk in return. "I guess it's lucky I happen to know a bit about construction and the like. Will make the renovations and updates a lot easier."
Birdie's eyes widen. "You do ? Well, that is handy."
"Recyclin' and reusin' Gramps's stuff would be a nice way of keepin' a part of the old man with us too," I say, realizing that I might be oversharing with a total stranger. "Sorry. I just realized that we've just met yet here I am thinkin' out loud about my dead grandfather."
"Hey. It's OK, Will," she says. "Ridley was a good man. Anyone that knew and who he let get close to him, would like the idea of keepin' somethin' of his. And the man I knew would love the fact you're willin' to reduce your carbon footprint and reuse his old stuff, transformin' it into somethin' new and givin' it new life." She tests her plan on my forearm where I've pulled my shirt up.
I forget what I was going to say because the moment her skin met mine, there was an instant buzzing sensation underneath her hand. Much like the feeling you get when you shock yourself with static electricity.
Her breath catches–or maybe it's mine–and for a moment, I swear she can feel it too. Then, all too quickly, she jerks her hand back to rub it against her leg, trying to be inconspicuous.
"Anyway, I won't keep you any longer. I've got somewhere to be," she rushes out. "It was nice to meet you though, Will."
I don't know why I do it, but as she steps back, I hold my hand out to shake hers. Almost as if I need to see if I can feel that buzz she gave me all over again.
Unfortunately, she looks at my hand before slowly lifting her eyes back up to my face before biting her lip and jerking her head. "Bye," she mutters quickly before walking backward away from me.
"Wait–" I say just as she bumps into the side of a sofa and tumbles over onto it. Before I can move to help her up, she's jumping back to her feet, her cheeks turning beet red as she does it. Then she shoots me a huge smile, totally trying to play it off like she didn't just trip over her own feet. Little does she know, it might just be the highlight of my day.
"Bye Joan," she calls out. "You too, Cooper brothers." She waves again before making a beeline for the front door.
"Wait! Where can I find you? You know, if I have any more furniture questions?" I ask just before she steps outside.
She takes a deep breath and looks over her shoulder, her eyes locking with mine as she shoots me a slow-growing, all-knowing smile. "It's a small town, Will Cooper. I'm sure we'll find each other."
Then as quick as she was there, she's gone, and I'm left standing there trying to wrap my brain around the whole interaction.
Who was that woman? And why do I already feel like she's someone important… or, at the very least, someone I was always meant to meet?