I didn’t intend to drag him to me, and I didn’t intend to make him face me.
But as the mint of his breath wafts over my skin, my eyes drop to his lips and I struggle to focus on what I asked him.
He’s so close. Close enough to kiss.
“Liar, liar, pants on fire,” I tease, though the words come out strained. Birds chirp overhead, and in the distance, an owl hoots.
“Can’t leave it alone, can you?” But there’s no more heat to his words. Well, not that kind of heat. Now his tone is filled with something else, something I haven’t allowed myself to feel in far too long. With shaking fingers, he brushes a rogue curl from my face. “I don’t know, Birdie. That’s why I don’t have an answer for you. I feel this pull toward you when I look at you, as though fate bundled you up and threw you in my path.”
“In the middle of the road?” I sigh the words, my voice straining and my stomach full of fluttering creatures with wings.
“I was so angry at you for being so foolish, even before I got out of the truck.” His brows wrinkle, forming deep lines in his forehead. “Then there you were, this beautiful freckled angel holding a skunk.”
I lick my lips, a shiver working its way down my spine. “The moose.”
He inches closer. “I wasn’t anticipating for you to fall into my life, Birdie.”
“Yet here we are.” It’s the stupidest line I’ve ever uttered, but Arlo doesn’t bat an eyelash.
“Come on.” He steps back, breaking the spell and still not giving me a complete answer. He grabs my hand, leading me through the woods and toward a structure I can just make out through the thinning trees.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Yep.” He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t appear as though I shouldn’t ask him anything. In fact, he gives my hand a reassuring squeeze.
“You and Bridget?” I don’t want to lose his interest, so I rush forward. “It’s just that she still loves you, and I don’t want to get in between you two.”
Arlo pauses, causing me to slam into his back and bounce off. Luckily, he grabs me before I can fall backwards.
Really, how many times am I going to fall in front of this man? I might be falling for him, but I really don’t need to be literal about it.
“Did she say that?”
“Well, not in so many words, but I could tell. She still loves you, Arlo, and I’m not the type of girl to get in between something like that.” Not that I should get involved at all, because I have no plans on staying.
I step out of his arms, instantly missing his warmth, but I don’t backtrack on what I said.
His sigh echoes through the forest. “Come on, let’s talk.”
I dislike the sound of that, but I follow him through the trees and a little chapel comes into view. Okay, not little, but breathtaking.
Here, sitting in the middle of nowhere, is a masterpiece of fantasy’s own creation. I pause on a stepping-stone and cover my mouth with my hand as I try to process the beauty before me.
The A-frame building reaches into the sky, with stained glass windows on the front. Though it’s as simple as that, ivy creeps upthe sides, giving it an ethereal feeling, while leaves flutter to the ground in varying shades of reds and oranges.
Though beautiful, it’s slowly deteriorating, but even time’s cruelty doesn’t hinder the magic that wafts off the building.
“Come on.” Once more, Arlo grabs my hand, tugging me toward the chapel as he pauses before the stained glass doors with keys in his hand. The basket rocks as he sets it on the ground. “I love Bloom.”
My stomach plummets, but I nod, waiting for him to carry on as fire ants march up my throat.
“I love her as my first friend, then my first love. As my first kiss, my first everything. We grew up together, and there’s something to say about a friendship like that. It stands the test of time.” I’m not sure where he’s going with this, so I listen and wait as he gathers his thoughts. “I never asked her to marry me though, because even though we dated for a long time, I didn’t love her the way she deserved.”
“She loves you.”
“I know.” He heaves out a breath, and I know he’s about to divulge something that weighs heavily on his shoulders. I squeeze his hand in comfort just as he squeezed mine. “I can’t have kids, Birdie.”
My mouth drops open at that bomb, and I’m unsure just what to say to that. “I’m sorry.” Those few words will never amount to the weight in his soul at the confession. His interaction with Lark makes so much more sense now, and my heart shatters for him because I can see it in his eyes—hewantskids.
