Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Stormi
I march through the sliding doors of the lodge, focused on the staircase to the second floor. I need to pack my suitcase before the shuttle arrives. I also need to talk to my sister, and then hope that Dash has talked some sense into himself in time.
Ugh, men!
“Stormi?” Erin calls out my name from the center of the lobby. She’s sitting on one of the love seats positioned around a cedar coffee table, looking more refreshed than I expected. I’m surprised not to see a single suitcase nearby.
“You look…better.”
“I am better.” She pats the seat beside hers. “Sit.”
“Okay, who are you and what have you done with my sister?”
“I know it’s…unexpected. But, really, I’m okay. More than okay actually.”
It’s then I notice the glow.
“Chad didn’t show up—”
“No, Chad is no longer in the picture,” she says reassuringly. “I promise you that.”
“Then what’s going on?”
“I took your advice.”
“Huh?”
She opens her palm, revealing the rose quartz I left on her nightstand on our first night here. “I decided, for once in my life, just to go with the flow. To trust that everything will work out even if I can’t see how.”
“Okay, now I know you’re not my sister. But if there’s ransom, I can’t afford it.”
Erin laughs, and I’m relieved at how genuine the sound is. She really is okay. I don’t know how that’s possible in the short time we’ve been here, but maybe there’s something magical in the mountain air after all.
That would explain me falling in love with Dash so quickly.
“I have a confession,” she says.
“Oh?”
“I’m not going home today.”
“You’re extending your stay?”
“Yeah. Indefinitely.”
“Why—”
“I promise I’ll tell you everything, but first you have to tell me what’s going on with you. Winnie told me you were stranded at a fire watch tower the past couple of nights. With a man named Dash?”
I look over my shoulder, but for the first time since we arrived at the lodge, Winnie is not behind the front desk.
Convenient timing, Winnie.
“What happened, Stormi?” Her question is ten percent concern, ninety percent curiosity.
For the first time in my life, I feel comfortable telling my sister the truth without any fear of her reaction. “I fell in love.”
“You did?” Her expression glows with happiness.
“Yeah, I did. But there’s something else you really should know,” I say before I lose my nerve. “I quit my job.”
“When?”
“A couple days before we left. I hated that job. I know you all think I’m crazy when I tell you I can sense energies and vibes, but I can.
And when I’m around bad energy for too long, it makes me sick to my stomach.
All those lawyers were not good people. They didn’t care who they were helping.
They only cared about the money. Which meant most of their clients made me sick to be around, too. ”
“I never understood why you wanted to be a paralegal,” Erin says.
“You’re kidding, right?”
“No, I’m not. It was never…you.”
“I didn’t want anyone to worry about me. I know I’m whimsical and flaky sometimes—”
“You’re not flaky. Whimsical? Yes. But definitely not flaky.”
“Then why didn’t you want me to be your maid of honor?” I ask, more confused than hurt.
“Because you would have hated it.”
“Oh,” I say, taking that answer in. It doesn’t take long to realize she’s right. Odd that I never once considered that. “I thought it was because you didn’t trust me not to screw it up—”
“I am not our parents,” she says, taking my hand.
“Dad made his choice when he married that awful woman who shall not be named. Gwen is all the proof you need of that mistake.” She mutters that last part under her breath.
I want to ask whatever became of our stepsister when she showed up in Cancun to discover none of us were there.
But Erin doesn’t give me the chance. “The only reason you being a paralegal ever made sense to me was that you wanted to make Dad proud.”
“Not a lie,” I mumble.
“But now, it’s time to do what you want to do.”
“What if I don’t know exactly what that is?”
Erin shrugs, her gaze lifting over top of my head for a moment. “Then move to Cinnamon Creek with me and figure it out as you go. Isn’t that kind of your operating motto?”
“I guess, but—”
“What will make you happy, Stormi?” It’s not Erin’s voice this time. It’s Dash.
Erin squeezes my hand before dropping it. “I’ll let you two talk.”
I scoot over, making room for Dash on the loveseat. I know we’re going to be okay, but I don’t mind making him work for it a little, either.
“What will make you happy Stormi?” he asks again. “Do you want to spend summers at the fire tower with me? Do you want to open your own crystal shop here in town? Or maybe a clothing store that sells only yellow clothes?”
I let out a laugh at that. “You know, that could be fun.”
“I want you to stay, but I also know asking that of you is purely selfish on my part. I want you to stay because you know you’ll be happy here.
I know I can’t make you happy. That’s something you have to do for yourself.
But I’m here to support that happiness. To amplify it—and I think I’ve proven one or two of the many ways I can do that. ”
A quiver low in my belly agrees.
“I have to warn you,” I tell him. “I’m basically broke with no backup plan.”
“I can’t imagine a thing like money would hold you hostage from happiness,” he says. “Not you, Miss Sunshine.”
“True.”
“You can stay with me if you want,” he offers, cupping my cheek. His thumb strokes my temple, and I’m taken back to all the love making over the past twenty-four hours. I could get used to that on a regular basis. “In fact, I hope you will stay with me. Blaze would be so miserable without you.”
“Just Blaze?”
“I’m done living in isolation, baby girl.” Dash moves closer, dropping his other hand to my thigh.
I’m tempted to crawl into his lap, right here in the lobby.
“I want to start building something with someone else,” he continues. “And in case I haven’t made it clear by now, that someone is you. I love you, Stormi. I know it’s fast. But I’ve never been more certain about anything in my life. You’re it for me.”
“And Blaze?”
“That dog fell for you three seconds after meeting you.” He lifts my chin until our gazes lock. “I fell in two seconds.”
“Okay,” I say, feeling tears prick the corners of my eyes. But for the first time since I arrived in Cinnamon Creek, they’re happy tears. “I’ll live with you. On one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“We both sleep in the bed.”
He draws my lips to his, kissing me so thoroughly I feel it in my toes. Nothing has ever felt more right in my entire life.
When his lips break apart from mine, he asks, “What if there’s not much sleeping?”
“Even better.”