Gus
From my living room, I surveyed the woods, taking in the view of my land with fresh eyes. My house wasn’t big, but it was beautiful. I’d built it myself, using timber I’d harvested from the acreage I’d bought when I was twenty-six.
Back then, I’d been so excited to be a landowner, and it had felt so incredible to own this little slice of the wilderness.
The house had taken years. First, I’d lived in a trailer on the property, thinking it’d take a year to build the house. But boy, was I wrong.
Building a house was like building just about anything of importance in this life—it took way longer than anticipated. It tested a person and challenged them to grow in ways they never could have imagined.
It took seven years, but eventually, I moved into my dream house. Every detail was precisely the way I’d designed it.
I didn’t want a log cabin. It was too on the nose for a professional lumberjack.
Instead, I went timber style—post and beam construction, with stone accents.
I made sure every piece of granite was mined here in Maine too.
The first floor was anchored by a large floor-to-ceiling fireplace, and I’d spent a small fortune on glass.
There were windows everywhere—what good was it having thirty acres of forest if I couldn’t see the trees?
For a time, I thought I’d raise a family here. Build a treehouse out back for the kids and host Sunday cookouts and family flag football games.
But the opportunity never arose. Or, more accurately, I never took any of the opportunities that presented themselves.
I’d always told myself it was because I was so devoted to my work and the company.
However, it was becoming clearer by the day that my aversion to finding a woman I could settle down with had more to do with my ex-wife than I was willing to admit.
And she was coming here. To my house.
What would she see?
A recluse who’d built a fortress in the woods? A lonely man clinging to an identity that no longer fit him?
I wanted Chloe to like my house. It was an extension of who I was. Part of me wanted to show her that I’d been just fine. That I’d recovered from losing her and that I’d done well. And at the moment, I didn’t have much to show for myself except my house.
The FBI meeting had gone well today, and truth be told, we’d made a good team. Afterward, the dinner invitation came out of my mouth before I could think better of it, and I’d gotten the shock of my life when she’d accepted.
I hadn’t wanted to spend extra hours reviewing every single detail with the legal team, but I’d done it for the company, and, if I was being honest, for her.
She’d bailed us out. She’d taken it all on.
And she didn’t deserve to be dragged down by my dad.
The shit with him was over. Done with. Of course, there would always be crime.
This was rural Maine, and shit went down all the time, but this company had new leadership and a fresh start. Chloe deserved that.
She arrived exactly on time, holding two bottles of wine.
“Double fisting?” I asked as she climbed the porch steps.
She shrugged. “I figured I’d need a whole bottle to myself to survive dinner with my ex-husband. Don’t worry, Karl will come pick me up. I won’t drive like this.”
I nodded, already feeling out of sorts. This was a terrible idea. Why had I even suggested it? I’d given into a moment of weakness, and now I’d be paying for it all night.
Terrible idea or not, Chloe looked beautiful. She was wearing a slouchy black dress and simple sandals, with her hair swept into a ponytail. The look so different from what I was used to seeing in the office. Almost as if she’d worked hard to make it look like she hadn’t made any effort.
My brain had been flooded with nothing but thoughts of her since our day together in the woods. The forest had the magical ability to cut through bullshit and pretense.
I’d seen the real Chloe then. The smart, determined, fierce woman I’d fallen in love with so long ago.
My Dragonfly. She was still in there, beneath the designer clothes and the closed-off ice queen facade.
And it was fucking with me. Because I didn’t like her anymore. I resented her.
Our youthful mistake was ancient history, yet emotions were resurfacing far too frequently and far too potently. I wasn’t sure how to manage them, especially in light of the woman currently standing in my kitchen.
She was stubborn. And superior. She’d purchased my fucking company and was going to change every detail of the one thing I’d devoted my life to.
I opened one of the bottles and poured us each a glass.
When I held hers out to her, she took it and raised it to me silently. All the air escaped me when she hit me with a soft, warm smile as she brought the glass to her lips. There were no pithy, fun toasts fitting for this situation, so silence was probably the best option.
“Have a seat,” I said, flipping a dishtowel over my shoulder. “I’m almost finished.”
She headed over to the couch and sat on one end, near Clem. My dog watched her cautiously but didn’t cower when Chloe gently stroked her ears.
“She is certainly… unique for a pit bull.”
I looked up from my chopping. “Shelter said she likely has some spaniel in her too.”
“You’re beautiful and one of a kind,” she cooed to Clem, who then did the most shocking thing I’d witnessed since my dad’s arrest. The dog jumped onto the couch and put her head in Chloe’s lap.
“You’ve got to be shitting me.” I was so blown away by the move, I almost cut myself.
Chloe sipped her wine, happily petting my dog. “What?”
“She’s afraid of everyone. Never wants to cuddle.”
“Even you?”
“Especially me. We’ve reached an understanding, but there are no spontaneous displays of doggie affection in this house.”
Ugh. Traitor. I loved that dog with my whole heart, and she was now cozying up to the woman who had already broken me once and might just go for a repeat.
“Tell me how you found her.”
With a nod, I turned to the fridge. “I found her at the shelter. I took one look at her face and fell in love.” Ducking low, I pulled the cheeses from the dairy drawer.
“It took weeks for her to trust me,” I said as I straightened and returned to the counter.
“I’d show up every few days and sit outside the gate, reading a book.
If she wandered over, I’d offer her a treat.
Slowly, she got used to me. Eventually, she got comfortable enough to let me take her home. ”
“That is so sweet,” Chloe said, her dark eyes filled with a warmth I hadn’t seen in a long, long time. “You are such a glutton for punishment.”
Some things hadn’t changed since my youth. “We’re only a few months in, but we’re working on it. She likes going for walks in the woods, and she loves coming to work. I figure if I keep at it, she’ll eventually be my best friend.”
Chloe tucked her legs up under her, looking far too good in my house. Just the thought was making me itchy.
“I always wanted a dog.” She sighed.
I looked up and locked eyes with her. “I know.”
For a long moment, we stayed like that, regarding one another. Sorrow hung in the air between us. A sadness about what could have been. About the people we used to be and how far we’d wandered away from those beautiful, idealistic young souls.
Chest tightening, I took a massive gulp of wine. I wasn’t a big drinker, but tonight was looking like an exception. My brain flashed with one confusing thought after another, and I desperately wanted to enjoy myself and turn off all the noise.
I had been an idiot. I acknowledged that. But I’d loved her so purely and so completely. Could I ever do that again? I wasn’t so sure. Life had left me too jaded to even try.
She wandered up to the island and refilled our glasses, this time filling them almost to the rim. She was clearly as nervous as I was.
She was bringing her glass to her lips again when her eyes widened.
“You didn’t,” she breathed, eyeing the board I’d assembled.
“I did.”
She clapped and bounced on her toes, dropping the bitchy facade. “You made me girl dinner.”
“I don’t know what that is, but I know you’d rather eat cheese and crackers than a real meal, so I figured this would be a safe choice.”
I’d made the charcuterie board myself. The ones at the store were tiny, and when Adele had asked me for one, I’d made a few extra.
“Gus, there has to be five pounds of cheese here.”
“And meat,” I added. “Veggies, fruit, crackers, bread, nuts, chicken skewers, homemade hummus.”
“Stop. Did you slice that cucumber into a flower?”
I lifted my chin, gesturing for her to head to the back of the house.
The back porch was easily the best part of this place. One half was fully screened to keep the mosquitoes out, with a small table and outdoor love seat. The overhead fan kept it cool and the soft lighting was just enough to make it possible to see the mountains in the distance at night.
She brought the wine, smart girl, and we sat. The more cheese and wine we consumed, the easier the conversation flowed.
Her smile grew as the night progressed too. “I can’t believe you made your own hummus.”
“Tastes better this way.” I shrugged.
She threw a carrot stick at me. “If I’d known how annoying you’d end up being, I’d have made it a condition of the sale that you moved to Siberia.”
“As if there is any place on earth chillier than the room you inhabit,” I countered, popping a slice of cucumber into my mouth.
She narrowed her eyes. “I’m gonna let that slide because I’m really enjoying this Gouda.” She studied a slice, then gently slid it into her mouth and licked her lips.
“Since the cheese is clearly softening you up, want to tell me why you came back?”
Though we’d been eating and drinking for hours, the time had passed quickly. She was snappy and funny, and no matter how many times she insulted me, I wanted more.
With her lips pressed together, she regarded me for a moment. “Several reasons. But partially for my family. My sister Celine. She’s had a rough year.”