Chapter 16
Something shifted in the forest as we laughed out in the cold, dark night. A wall shattered between the five of us as we played light as a feather, stiff as a board. Paris, of course, demanded to go first.
None of it worked. Paris barely moved, actually none of us moved, and we ended up building a fire in the middle of the ruins of an old chapel that Autumn’s family built hundreds of years ago, long before the one that remains was constructed.
We laughed until we cried.
We drank until the bottles ran dry.
A bond formed under that moon that observed five women in varying stages of life, living in the moment and connecting in a way that I could only ever have dreamed about.
We finally trudged back toward the house, the fire long dead, in the moments before dawn spilled across the sky. Our elbows were linked as our laughter cut across the quiet of the night. Tiptoeing inside with the old house creaking, we each stumbled to our own rooms, falling fast asleep.
The scent of sizzling bacon and the fulfilling aroma of eggs and cheese wakes me hours later. The sun spills warmth across my bedspread, while Cooper nuzzles beside me.
Contentment warms my souls as laughter spills through the vents. I roll over toward the window, my eyes catching on the trees outside, the wind causing them to flutter to the ground.
Next week is Thanksgiving, and Robin will be here in a matter of days.
I’m both elated to see him and filled with trepidation. Arlo wasn’t wrong. Magic swirls in the air here, enrapturing those who wander in and showing them all the things they never thought were possible. This town, in the short weeks that we’ve been here, has weaseled itself into my heart.
Last night solidified it. Sure, I could have seen myself falling for Arlo, I still do, but the kinship that developed burns through me, leaving a trail of want so desperate that I fear more than anything else in this moment it just may not be real.
After Eric, I swore I’d never befriend another again. I’d never fall in love with that friendship. Yet here I am doing just that, and I love it here.
I know I’m going to tell Robin we are going to stay, and I just don’t know how I feel about it.
I used to tell Lark that each deviation of life was nothing more than an adventure.
Each loss, each pain filled moment, and each and every single minute of joy led to a path we walked and cherished, an experience to explore.
Is Silent Springs my new adventure?
I want it to be more than anything else in this world.
A knock on my door echoes through the room a moment before Lark walks in, dressed for school and holding a plate of toast she sets on the side of the bed.
She crawls in beside me, her red hair fanning across the pillow, her eyes full of mischief. Brown eyes, so like mine, shine back at me, probably the only thing I gave her as I grew her in my belly.
“There’s aspirin on the plate with a small cup of orange juice.”
“What?” I gasp. “No coffee?”
“Arlo said no coffee until you’ve had the aspirin and orange juice.” Her eyes glint with amusement.
“Did he now?” That tricky man.
“Did you have fun?” she asks, almost hesitantly.
Grabbing her hands, I twine her fingers in mine. “I did.”
“You look happy.”
“I had a lot of fun last night, Lark.” I try to explain everything I’m not sure I can put into words, like how much those women helped me heal from Eric. I bonded with them, even though I pegged them as nothing more than mean girls—a fallacy I’m glad I was proved wrong.
A knock echoes on the door before Arlo calls out, “Hey.”
“Love you, have a great day off.” Lark kisses my nose before bouncing away.
“Love you too, kid,” I whisper back, but she’s halfway down the steps, shouting to Kenzie. Head pounding, I sit up, grab the orange juice and aspirin, and down it like a college frat boy. “You’re mean,” I tell Arlo, who leans against the doorframe.
“Food first, coffee second.” He’s like a Greco-Roman statue, refusing not to move nor budge regarding food. “If I don’t encourage you, then you’ll eat junk and feel even worse.”
“But the coffee,” I whine around a bite of toast, though there is no heat in my words. Not as the smooth honey butter hits my taste buds just right, and I moan around a mouthful.
“Honey butter.”
All I can do is hum and moan until I’m licking my fingers clean, though a film of sticky residue remains. “This is so perfect.” And something so small and innocuous that I missed. Once again, this perfect man flies in to save the day with something I not only love, but I love with a fiery passion.
“Bloom has beehives,” he grumbles from the doorway, his cheeks flaming a bit.
Before last night, I might have had some feelings about this, but after spending hours with Bloom and getting to know her, all I feel is warmth that he went out of his way to get honey from his ex, and not just any honey, but fresh freaking honey that he whipped with butter.
“Thank you,” I say with a sticky tongue for more reasons than just one.
Also, I didn’t know Bloom had hives. That’s a dangerous venture, and a new level of respect rises inside me for the petite princess.
“You’re welcome.” Coughing into his hand, he points at Cooper. “I wanted to make up for my reaction to the skunk.”
“Cooper.” I chuckle. “Go ahead and say his name. He won’t spray you.”
“You sure about that?” He doesn’t look convinced, but he reaches behind him and grabs pieces of wood with a screen.
“What are you doing?” I fling off the blankets, leaving me in my unicorn pajamas that Arlo pointedly avoids looking at.
“Making it up to…” His face twists up into a wrinkled mess. “Cooper.”
“That hard?”
“I can’t believe you have a pet skunk.”
“Many people have a pet skunk.” I scratch behind Cooper’s ears. “He’s like a cat.”
“I prefer what my sister called him.”
“You mean a scented bunny?” I hold my hands to his ears so he won’t hear me repeat that blasphemy.
“Yep, that’s the one.” His feet thud over the carpet as he marches toward the window that he pries open with a crowbar, no less.
I settle back on the bed, content to watch him, and wait for my aspirin to kick in before I go hunting for coffee.
“What are you doing there?” Even Cooper looks at him with a cocked head, his little tail vibrating in interest. I know that will look like a threat to Arlo, so I pat the bed, drawing him closer.
“I told you, I’m making it up to him,” he rumbles as he wedges a two by two in the window. “This window needs to be replaced.”
“Looks like it.”
“It’s so old, all these windows need to be replaced.” He rummages in his tool belt, and I admit, I sigh a little at the sight.
It’s like my personal commercial ad for the working man.
Now just to let the audience know, this is just my preference for a man.
I know they come in all shapes and sizes, but Arlo?
Yeah, the universe designed him specifically for me, with that red flannel armor and those jeans full of holes.
Oh, I know they were perfect when he bought them, holeless and pristine, but I prefer them this way, giving me brief glimpses of those thighs under the material.
“Do you want me to dance?” he questions, drawing me to the present and away from his thighs.
“Will it cost me extra?”
For a moment, all he can do is stare at me in wonder, his beard brushing his chest as he works his jaw. He shakes his head, and his man bun flops around, releasing a lock of hair from its tight confines. “You never say what I think you are going to say.”
“Good.”
He grunts in answer, going back to his wood piles and screens.
“Are you going to tell me what you are doing yet, or should I just watch you while you work?” I’m game for either scenario. In fact, I wonder if I can call Saffron for room service.
“Catio,” he answers as he begins to build.
“A catio?” I hide my smile behind a sticky hand.
“Yeah. I looked it up, and apparently, cats love it. You build this little ledge for cats so they can sit outside in the nice weather.” He waves his hands around while talking, trailing his eyes over the wood as blueprints dance in his head.
“Hey, Arlo?” I’m going to ruin this. Should I tell him? Let it go?
“What?” He pauses, his hands on his hips as he stares at me with those baby blue eyes.
“It’s almost winter,” I tell him softly, trying to ease the blow.
“Yeah, and?” He waves a hand at the open window, where a chilly breeze blows in. “It’s a beautiful fall day.”
I lick my lips, trying really hard to hold in my laughter. “It’s going to be cold for Cooper.”
“Wait.” He looks at my little beast, who stares right back at him. “Does he hibernate?” His cheeks wrinkle in horror.
“Not necessarily, but he will become more idle.” I pet my little guy. “He’s an indoor skunk.”
“My mother took him on a walk just this morning.”
“Yes, well, he likes to walk.”
“So he won’t like the catio?”
“He’s a skunk.”
“That isn’t an answer,” he grumbles at me. “I’m still going to make him a catio. We’ll let Cooper decide.”
“Know what?” I concede. “You are right. You can build it, but on one condition.”
“What? How is there a condition in this? I’m doing this for Cooper to make up for screeching at him.”
“Fix the window so I can open and close it easily without a crowbar.”
“Oh.” Sheepish, he looks from the window to me and back again. “Yeah, that makes sense.”
“I’ll leave you to it.” Finally, I crawl out of the warm cocoon I built for myself, already missing its comfort, and pace over to the bedroom door.
That’s where I pause, rapping my knuckles on the hardwood.
“Hey, Birdie?”
“Yeah?” I glance over my shoulder at Arlo, who’s kneeling on the floor building a catio for my pet skunk, even though he hates the little guy.
“Thanks.”
“Why are you thanking me?” I spin around now that he has my full attention.