“The Wishing Tree?” Bailey’s eyes grow wide. “What’s that?”
I crouch to his level, matching his enthusiasm. “Well, it’s this beautiful big tree in the city park. People write their wishes on special decorations and hang them on the branches. They say the wishes come true throughout the year.”
“Really?” Bailey gasps, then turns to Ben. “Daddy, can we go see it? Please?”
Ben laughs, ruffling Bailey’s hair. “Of course we can, buddy. What would you wish for?”
Bailey beckons his dad to bend down, then cups his hands around Ben’s ear, whispering something that makes Ben smile softly.
“Oh, sweetie,” Ben says, straightening. “I think Sienna might be a bit young for a bike right now.”
One of the men from the group approaches us. He has jet-black hair tied into a bun and dark-blue eyes. He’s also shorter than the twins, who have light-brown hair and features so similar I have to look twice to tell them apart.
“Bailey’s been trying to convince us all since Christmas,” he explains. “He and his cousin, my son Tyler, got bikes, and now he wants his baby sister to join their bike gang. Never mind that she’s just six months old. I’m Indy, by the way.”
“That’s adorable,” I say, watching as Bailey skips back to the other group. “Maybe you could wish for something else?” I call after him. “Like…ice cream?”
“Don’t give him ideas.” Ben groans good-naturedly. “We should probably get going though. If we don’t feed these kids soon, we’ll have a riot on our hands. Besides, I want to call my best friend to check in on Sienna. We decided she was too little to make the trip during the winter, so she stayed back home.”
“Oh, right! Well, if you’re looking for somewhere to grab coffee while you’re in town, I own Special Blend opposite the north side of the park. We’re actually officially opening tomorrow. I’d love to treat you all to some of our special blends and pastries.”
Indy’s eyes light up. “A coffee shop? We’ll definitely stop by. I own a coffee shop back home, so we’re always excited to try new places.”
I feel a warmth spread through my chest. Something about their energy and Bailey’s sweet innocence gets to me. Life’s too short to second-guess every kind gesture. Before I leave, I grab that loaf of artisanal bread Nate likes, along with some fresh fruit and a block of his favorite cheese. It’s not about defining our relationship. It’s about being kind to someone I care about. Besides, the way his eyes light up when he’s happy is worth any moment of uncertainty.
Back home, with flour dusting my countertops and the warm, comforting scent of baking scones filling my kitchen, my thoughts drift back to Nate. The way he kissed me in the bookstore corner, how his hands felt on my skin, the tenderness in his eyes when he looked at me. But also the uncertainty gnawing at my gut. What are we to each other? What does he want from this?
I need someone to talk to, someone who knows me better than anyone else. Marcus has been my best friend since forever. He’s gotten me through life drama, boy drama, and my mom’s illness. If anyone can help me make sense of this situation with Nate, it’s him.
I pull out my phone and call Marcus.
“Well, well, well,” Marcus drawls when he picks up. “If it isn’t my favorite desert flower transplanted to the frozen north. To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“Can’t I just call to say hi?” I ask, wedging the phone between my ear and shoulder as I knead dough for the second batch of scones.
“You could, but that’s not why you’re calling. Spill it. How’s the Vermont hunk treating you?”
I pause in my kneading, flour-covered hands hovering over the dough. “That’s… complicated.”
“Complicated how? Are you dating? Just hooking up? Planning a spring wedding?”
“I don’t know what we’re doing,” I admit, resuming my kneading with perhaps more force than necessary. “We’re definitely sleeping together, but…”
“But what?” Marcus prompts when I trail off.
“But we haven’t defined anything. It started during a snowstorm. We weathered the snowstorm together, had sex, and it just…hasn’t stopped. And there’s something else.”
“Also? There’s an also? I love an also. Tell me everything.”
I take a deep breath. “Remember that guy I hooked up with on New Year’s Eve? At the masquerade party?”
“The mysterious stranger who rocked your world?”
“Yeah, well…” I start dividing the dough into portions. “That was Nate.”
There’s a moment of stunned silence on the other end of the line. “I’m sorry, what? How do you know?”
“He has this beauty mark on his hip. I noticed it the first time we…you know. And then I remembered seeing it that night.”
