For a moment, he just stares down at me with appreciation in his gaze, and it’s full of love that should terrify me. I’ve only known this man for a few weeks, but he means so much more to me.
“I like you, Birdie.”
“I am in severe like with you, Arlo Larson.”
“I want to kiss you.” He leans down to do just that, but he brushes the softest kiss against my forehead. “Even though you are a complete klutz.”
“Yes, but it will be a fun story.”
“Oh, it will be imprinted in my mind for a while, just like you tripping onto the stone, then again into the mud pit.” He pauses in mock thought. “Maybe we should get you checked out by the doc when we get back.”
“My eyes are fine,” I reply, feeling a little nauseous.
“Let’s get you set up on the couch.” As he rises, he lifts me with him, holding me as though I’m the most delicate piece of glass. We walk over to the couch, and then once more, we sit, but this time, it’s together. He leans me against his chest, wrapping his arms around me and holding me close.
“Want to watch a movie?” I ask.
“Nope, you can’t if you have a concussion, don’t want to strain your eyes.” His chest rumbles with laughter.
“Oh, that’s just plain mean.” Especially because when we arrived, I had imagined this night going a hundred different ways.
“I set an alarm on my phone for every two hours,” he murmurs into my hair.
My heart aches. Never in all my life have I ever had someone take such incredible care of me. Nor have I ever had someone treat me as though I’m something amazing. Aside from Eric and, well, he wasn’t even a lover, but a friend. One I cherish and miss with all my heart. But Silent Springs and Arlo continue to mend my wounds.
“Why is the town called Silent Springs?” I yawn. Knowing that isn’t a good sign, I hurry to add, “I already know why, but keep talking to me.”
“There’s a spring up in the mountain, close to the Canadian border.”
“Is it a hot spring?”
“Yep.” He chuckles. “Do you want to go on a hike? That can be our first exploration.”
I yawn again. “Yeah.”
“Hey, none of that.” He yawns as well.
“You aren’t psychotic,” I murmur, feeling exhausted, and I don’t think it has anything to do with the concussion.
“I read that as well,” he answers, recalling the theory that if you catch a yawn, you aren’t psychotic.
Feeling safe, I snuggle into his arms.
“Keep talking, but if you fall asleep, I’ve got you.” He brushes his lips against my forehead again. “I’ll watch you as you sleep, Birdie.”
For the next two hours, we talk about everything under the sun—what our lives were like as kids, our favorite movies, color, and more. I fall in love with Arlo Larson.
All because I got a concussion by landing on a Matchbox car. One I’ll keep forever.
CHAPTER 25
Never in mylife have I spent the evening with a guy and done nothing more than lie in his arms. Granted, I ruined the moment by getting a concussion, and Arlo’s alarm clock blared every two hours, startling both of us awake. After the third or fourth time, we crawled upstairs and passed out in bed. For the next alarm, we changed into jammies, and then by the next one, the sun was rising, so we sat up in bed and ordered breakfast from a local diner.
That was the extent of our jaunt to southern New Hampshire after Thanksgiving. Though I wanted to exploit the Black Friday sales, I couldn’t find it in me to crawl out of the cocoon we’d made in that little cottage.
We talked, napped, ate, then repeated the process completely. Though I had to call Lark and break the news that her mom is a true klutz. Honestly, we could make a game of how often I fall.
When the dizziness didn’t go away, we ran to the local emergency department, where they concluded what I already knew.
